It’s Going to Be a Different Kind of Mother’s Day
“It’s going to be a different kind of Mother’s Day this year.” God laid these words on Jolene Philo’s heart with the birth of her medically fragile son and again this year as she cares for her mother. In this beautiful article, Jolene draws parallels between caring for her son and now for an elderly parent. Jolene explores the shared experiences of spoon-feeding, medical procedures, and finding strength in the face of uncertainty. With each word that Jolene shares, you will see God’s faithfulness and the undeniable beauty found in the first and last days of life.
It’s going to be a different kind of Mother’s Day for you this year.
God whispered those words to me as I waddled into the doctor’s office in early May of 1982. Never mind that my husband and I wouldn’t see our first child until May 23. My husband and I had felt our baby’s kicks for months. God’s whisper assured me that I was already a mother.
What I didn’t realize when God spoke to me was that He was preparing me for what only He knew was coming. Our baby would be born with a serious birth condition. It would make every Mother’s Day for several more years very different from what I expected.
Some would be spent in the hospital with our medically fragile baby.
Some would be spent debating whether or not we should rush him to the hospital.
Some would be spent rejoicing that our miracle baby had become a healthy adult.
All would be spent realizing that had our boy been born in a different day and age, we would have had him with us for only a few days.
As the second Sunday in May approaches this year, I hear God whispering to me once again.
It’s going to be a different kind of Mother’s Day for you this year, Jolene.
This time, God’s not referring to our son. He’s doing well. This time God is talking about my mother.
She is 94 and believes she is 103.
She is in hospice care.
She has lost over twenty pounds in the last four months.
She is, I know, soon to leave this world.
This is going to be a different kind of Mother’s Day, the last in a string of 66 years celebrating with her on this earth. As the day approaches, I can’t quit thinking about the similarities being with her in her long term care facility and being with my infant son during his many hospital stays. Things like…
Spooning Cheerios and only Cheerios into their mouths at breakfast.
Finding ways to keep them from falling out of bed.
Opening window shades each morning to let the light in.
Shopping for clothes to fit their constantly changing bodies.
Talking to doctors about medication changes.
Reading picture books that lead to delighted smiles.
Stroking their cheeks when they cry out in pain.
Holding their hands while they get injections.
Getting a care professional to clean them up when needed.
Pushing a call button for trips to the bathroom.
Sitting beside their beds and wishing I could do more.
Beyond all those similarities, these are the things that stand out to me.
The absolute privilege of caring for my vulnerable loved ones.
The absolute assurance of being right where I should be.
The absolute presence of God with us.
The absolute holiness of the first and last days of a life.
The absolute certainty that while Mother’s Day 1982 and 2023 were and are different from others I’ve known, God crafted them for my son and mother’s best good, to His great glory.
Written by Jolene Philo
Jolene Philo is the author of several books for the caregiving community. She speaks at parenting and special needs conferences around the country. She's also the creator and host of the Different Dream website. Sharing Love Abundantly With Special Needs Families: The 5 Love Languages® for Parents Raising Children with Disabilities, which she co-authored with Dr. Gary Chapman, was released in August of 2019 and is available at local bookstores, their bookstore website, and Amazon. See Jane Sing!, the second book in the West River cozy mystery series, which features characters affected by disability, was released in November of 2022.
The Days Are Long, but the Years Are Short
When our son turned four I told my mother, “The years since he was born feel like a lifetime. Maybe it’s because we haven’t gotten a complete night of sleep since he was born.”
Written by Jolene Philo
“The days are long, but the years are short.”
I repeat this phrase while I sit on the couch listening to my 7-year-old grandson read for a half hour every evening.
Each time he turns a page, he says something like, “Wow, Grammy! What do you think that is?” or “I wonder what will happen next?” He ignores the words on the page and launches into several winding, imaginative explanations.
My grandson really, really likes to talk. And use his imagination. As for the reading part? Not so much.
Which is why I eventually have to suggest, “Read the page and find out.”
He follows my suggestion––he can read more fluently than he believes––and finds out. Then he turns the page and begins the same process all over again.
To contain my impatience, I whisper to myself, “The days are long, but the years are short.”
One evening as we read, my mind wandered back to when our son was young and medically fragile. When complications arose––maybe he had a fever, refused to eat because of an oral aversion, or vomited his food because of an esophageal blockage––our days were very, very long.
Should we wait to see if he got better? Or worse?
Could we wait until morning to go to the doctor? Or call him right now?
Should we race to the emergency room in our car? Or should we call the ambulance?
Not only were the days long, but also the nights.
When our son turned four I told my mother, “The years since he was born feel like a lifetime. Maybe it’s because we haven’t gotten a complete night of sleep since he was born.”
Mom smiled and said, “The days are long, but the years are short.”
My grandson turns a page and explains, “Look at that shark! What’s it’s name?”
His words draw me into the present. I smooth down his honey-colored rooster tail and inhale his little boy smell. He leans into me, and together we sound out a challenging word. He looks up at me and smiles in triumph.
“I’m getting the hang of this, Grammy!”
He is getting the hang of reading, and I am getting the hang of the fickleness of time.
I think of my son, whose early years required several corrective esophageal surgeries before he got the hang of eating and swallowing. He’s a middle-aged man now, healthy and independent.
Where did those years go?
I look down at my grandson and smile,
grateful for this precious half-hour together,
grateful for this reluctant reader’s victory over a pesky word,
grateful his dyslexia that brings us together each night,
grateful for the joy of being part of his life,
grateful for the wisdom gained through the special needs of my son and my grandson.
The days are long and the years are short, and in the eyes of God, both have eternal value.
Written by Jolene Philo
Jolene Philo is the author of several books for the caregiving community. She speaks at parenting and special needs conferences around the country. She's also the creator and host of the Different Dream website. Sharing Love Abundantly With Special Needs Families: The 5 Love Languages® for Parents Raising Children with Disabilities, which she co-authored with Dr. Gary Chapman, was released in August of 2019 and is available at local bookstores, their bookstore website, and Amazon. See Jane Sing!, the second book in the West River cozy mystery series, which features characters affected by disability, was released in November of 2022.