Eggs and a Mother's love

It's funny how the smallest, most insignificant things can trigger a memory. This morning, I had one of those moments as I was standing in my kitchen and cracking an egg. I don't know why, exactly, but poached eggs have always been a comfort food for me. When I was a child, my mom would make them for me on days when we had a few extra minutes to get ready and have breakfast in the mornings. They are kind of labor-intensive, and to this day, my mom makes the *best* poached eggs in the world! She always served two eggs, with cooked whites and runny yolks, and two pieces of toast, buttered and torn into little pieces.

Several years ago, I was working out of town in Salisbury, Maryland, when I was injured in a very bad car accident. This morning, I was reminded of the fact that when my mom came out to Maryland to take care of me and pick me up and bring me home, she made me some poached eggs. They were wonderful. What I really was remembering this morning, though, was the emotion tied to that time. I was in bad shape. I had only recently gotten divorced from my ex-husband, I no longer owned a home, I was injured and alone far, far from home. I had hydroplaned in a bad thunderstorm, and crashed my car into a telephone pole on the way to work one Monday morning. I was life flighted from the scene of the accident in a rural part of Maryland back to the hospital in Salisbury. I was bruised and beaten up, I had a concussion, tons of stitches, and a broken shoulder. To this day, I'm not sure why the hospital sent me home all alone...I couldn't take care of myself at all. I even needed help getting to the bathroom. But thankfully, God protected me in that crash, as I could have been injured much more badly than I was. When I went back to my car a few days later to gather my personal belongings, I was shocked that anyone could be in a car that mangled and survive.

What I remembered this morning, however, was the overwhelming sense of relief and well-being that I felt when my Mom arrived the following afternoon. I was so afraid...but once I saw her walking through the door to my apartment, I knew that everything was finally going to be OK. Mom was wonderful. She cooked for me. She helped me to bathe and wash the blood out of my hair. She helped me dress and go to the bathroom. She helped me to tie up loose ends at work (including writing patient notes for me as I dictated, since my right arm was out of commission), and then she packed up all of my belongings into a rental car and drove me and my big dog, Sheba back home to Kansas City.

I never really learned to poach an egg, but this morning, I was struck by the fact that I now have the awesome privilege of being someone's MOM. There are now two people in the world who will feel that same sense of well-being whenever I am with them. How awesome is that? With God's help, I pray that I am able to be half the mom to my own kids as my mom was to me. I had a wonderful example, and I am forever grateful.