A little background for you. My mother is a diabetic. She's had problems with her sugar for 11 years but controlled it with mostly diet and medication in the form of pills. She started getting sick this past Spring and it worried the whole family. Finally, my Dad and I put our foot down and we told her she was going to the doctor accompanied by me. Mr. Doctor ran a whole battery of tests. Alas, he put her on insulin shots. It insulted her. It depressed her. It pissed her off. Now my Mom is a woman of faith. Strong faith. I wish to be as strong in faith as she is just one day if that is any indication. She even ranted and raved about how HE could do this when he knew how much she loved food. We let her vent and said nothing.
She's doing better as time goes by. She is learning how to eat and how to administer her shots. I've even given her some in her arm and even though I don't let her see, I cringe everytime I do it. But it keeps her alive and alive is how I want her to be. My dad and I are constantly watching her to make sure she's not overdoing the carbs and sweets. I truly think she doesn't like us when we gently cough and shake our heads no when she's over doing it with a piece of cake or pie.
Fast forward to today. I call her as the girls and I are leaving counselling. To tell her we are done and going to grab a bite to eat. She inquires as to where we are dining. I tell her we decided we wanted Mexican. She pauses and asks if I will pick up an order of chips and salsa. She then rushes to tell me how good she's been and that she only wants a few. I'm no prison warden. I agree. When I order my meal...a steak burrito....I receive two and end up taking one home since I truly couldn't eat both without throwing up. I bring it into her house when I get home. I thought maybe my dad would like it for supper. She opens the box and just smells it. She gets a fork and cuts off the very end, making sure to get a piece of steak. Folks, I saw what a crack addict looks like. I seriously did. The pure bliss that came across her face was amazing. She quickly closes the lid and starts to fix my dad's plate. Almost anxious-like about it. I sit on the other side of the bar and just watch. She finally looks at me and says...very quickly.....I'm passing on the chips. Don't tell your dad you got this. I want it. I want it bad. I tell her to go for it. ~shrugs~ The woman was in a near frenzy. I figured if she was denied the pleasure of that steak burrito....we'd have to commit her. And I'm not joking.
Rewind a year or so ago. We're at the beach eating at this sinfully huge seafood buffet place. Hey, everyone is allowed at least once a year. And my family ALWAYS meets that quota. We enjoy the bestest meal ever ....crab leg skeletons litter the table like a war zone. Time for the dessert buffet bar. Here goes Mom. She comes back with one little piece of something and this incredibly smug smile on her face. We all glance around thinking she might have just eaten off of the bar to keep us off her back. She is seriously addicted to sweets. She looks around and announces..."I know what heaven looks like." Huh? What do you mean Mom? and she continued with...she knew what heaven looked like because she finally figured it out. Do tell us, Mom. Her theory. When you die and if you've followed the plan right and you go to heaven, there is no pain or suffering. Well, she's suffered this time on Earth being denied one of the biggest things that make her happy....sweets. When she walked over to that dessert buffet bar, she knew without a doubt that when she died and went to heaven.....God is gonna have a dessert buffet waiting on her and He's gonna hand her a fork and tell her to dig in. She looks around the table and informs everyone there that when they finally get to heaven....get directions to that buffet cuz that's where she's gonna be. Rock on Mom.