Mom

I lost my mom Thursday, 6/6.  I never expected it to hurt this much.  I thought I was prepared.  There were many times I felt she was so fragile and so unable to live that I almost wished she would let go.  But it hurts so much… and so much hurts.  Never felt like this before.

And two things stand out to me… I am feeling (and sort of acting) like I am the only person who ever lost their mom.  Secondly, all I want to do is talk about her… all the wonderful things she did, all the wonderful things she was.  Don’t get me wrong, I know I whined and complained about her throughout my life for this or that reason.  And, you know, I hated traveling down to Florida every month.  The thing is, as I posted on Facebook not too long ago, I moan and complain about traveling to Florida and I am so sick of it… I hate it… but once I get in that shuttle that takes me over to Mom’s place, I start getting so excited that I will soon see her.  It doesn’t matter how old you are, it still is exciting to see your mom.

I am perfectly aware of some of her shortcomings, and she may have had even more shortcomings than I actually am aware of, but I am also painfully aware of how wonderful she was.  Everyone who knew her loved her.  People used to tell me I was lucky to have her as a mom.  When I was a school kid I used to think, "Phtt, yeah right… you just don’t know her.."  I was such a brat.  The older I got, however, the more I realized they were right. 

I think my resentment and issues I had with my mom changed back in the mid-eighties when my dad was dying of Alzheimer’s Disease (contracted when he was only in his late fifties).  After so long caring for him herself while working full time, she finally made the decision to put him in a nursing home.  He was situated in a nice place just blocks from her and she went to visit him daily after a full day’s work as teacher.

Whenever she went to see him she always had that bright smile he loved.  She would hug him and act as if this was the high point of her day.  Whenever I came home to visit  her I, of course, would go to visit Dad with her.  One visit she gave him that big hello and a warm hug and when she pulled out of the hug there was a string of spittle going from his mouth to her chest.  Never dropping her smile or looking disgusted, she just shined on him with such love and cheer.  I’ll never forget that moment.  I know that I would have been grossed out, devastated by the fact that my dignified father, an educated man with a doctorate degree, was now a drooling semi-vegetable.  Not Mom, she beamed down on him and whatever of him that was left was made happier by her presence.

That moment was the moment that I realized my mom was a very special woman and began to try to incorporate more of her into my every day actions. 

I have been missing her for a long time.  She didn’t have dementia, but it has been a long time since we could have a real heart-to-heart.  She faded slowly.  But it is satisfying to me to know that I was able to hug her and beam down on her…. maybe not as well as she did for Dad, but I was there.  She communicated, she appreciated, she cared.  I miss her… even what was left of her I miss.  I even had trouble leaving the viewing of her remains.  Somehow I processed that at least I could touch her skin and knew that once I walked out, I would never touch her again.