When my Mom broke her Femur

I don't communicate with my mom on a very frequent basis. It just kind of happened that way. Obviously growing up I talked to her, but my life got active as a teenager, with school and a job, and a youth group. At some point I stopped really checking in with her and then I moved across the country. I couldn't afford to call home, they rarely called me and letters almost never happened, oh and the internet didn't exist. It was always good to see my Mom when I did see her but in the time in between there was no precedent to actually talk or communicate regularly. As an adult I trusted that I was on her mind but more importantly in her heart. (This level of trust was not as high as a teenager but it did exist.) We caught up when we saw each other. Since moving back to Baltimore it luckily is about once a month for a family event.

Then in the last few years, the catching up included stories about injuries, or major life events in extended families lives. Sometimes those stories weren't shared at all and I heard about them from other family members. I began to worry a little that I would miss important information. This didn't change how we communicated though. I didn't hear from my mom on my birthday this year, which I didn't even realize at the time.

At the beginning of November my Uncle's mother died and I visited his house as they sat Shiva. When I was there my Mom's sister mentioned that Mom didn't look good when she saw her the day before and commented that she had fallen recently (on my birthday). This was the first I was hearing about the fall and I made a mental note that I should call her. I didn't. On Sunday afternoon, the 15th, I got a call from Magaly that she was at shock trauma with Mom. I don't really panic; I got as much info as I could and then started contacting the rest of the family. Mom is an amazing patient and was on top of her care while in pain with a broken femur.  We guess she had a small fracture from the fall and it became a stress fracture when she was getting out of the car on the way home from Mass, a week and a half later. My dad, myself and siblings all visited at the hospital and continued to keep tabs on Mom both in person and through messages. It was a long week of prioritizing things and coordinating with family. Our girls prayed for her every day and were very understanding of my missing classroom visits for American Education Week. Megan really wanted to visit and internalized her worry into an upset stomach, but other wise the girls handled it well.

I went down in the evening a day after surgery and Mom was in a lot of pain. She was dozing and clutched my hand. I stroked her head and she opened her eyes and asked if I was leaving. On my previous visits she shooed all of us (except Dad) back to our families, so I thought she was going to do this again. I told her no I was going to stay with her for awhile. She whispered she was so glad I was there. I stood and stroked her hair and told her she was more important than she knew.

They moved Mom to a nursing rehab center after almost a week at Shock Trauma and our whole family visited on Sunday. Mom will be in rehabilitation for a few weeks, (just guessing right now) and we will continue to visit and coordinate. I feel confident that she and I both know that we are thought of by the other but more importantly I think we are both confident in our love for the other. Maybe we will be able to translate that into a little more concrete regular communication.