Tag Archives: Mother

I’m Back, but I’m Sad

Posted on by learning to live like water

I’m back.  One blog.  But today, I am dedicating the blog to my mom, who we lost last night.

Mom had a massive stroke in October 2014 that left her unable to speak, read, or write.  Since then, for 16 months, she has had only her memories and her thoughts.  Even though she could understand,she couldn’t communicate.  I know she is at peace now, with my dad.  I am so glad I went to they psychic a couple months ago, because my dad’s spirit was there, and he asked me to write her a letter, a long letter, relaying stories of us growing up and letting her know how much we appreciate her and loved her.  I did that, at his request and I’m ever so grateful for that direction, so that I know nothing was left unsaid with her.  The psychic also said that my dad was with her in the convalescent home she was in and would stay there with her, which gave me a lot of comfort.

My mother and father were the people who taught me the value of unconditional love.  We never talked about it, we just lived it.  My sisters and I grew up knowing that we had value just because we existed, and that knowledge, when I was able to actually form it into a thought, was what I knew would save my son.  At the end of the day, with both of my parents, I never went to bed wondering if they loved me.  I took it for granted, as all children should be able to.  I know now, in a very personal way, what happens to people who don’t have that luxury.  It has always been our rock to stand on our whole lives.

My mother’s own mother, my grandmother, died when my mom was 4.  She lived with her large extended family growing up, as her father looked for work as an iron worker during the Great Depression.  We had a family reunion for her 80th birthday.  The whole family came, kids, grandkids, great-grandkids….She told us, “you can’t imagine how happy this makes me to see this, to have this big loving family, after growing up without one.”

The lessons I learned from her I am still uncovering.  Grace, even under the worst pressure.  Survival.  Thriving.  Moving past things and going forward.  Forgiving.  Compassion. Countless more I can’t even put to words at the moment.

She was the glue that held us together, and I know that her love will live on in my sisters and me, and will continue to be the glue that holds us together going forward. Blessed, so blessed to have had her as my mother.

 

A Little Closer to Not Working

Posted on by learning to live like water

I just talked to my mother. She’s 94, living in a memory care facility in Florida. She is not happy there, even though hospice workers tell us that it’s one of the best in the area. She wants to be with her family, which is what we would all hope if we make it to 94. But she had a major stroke last fall, and cannot speak, read, or write and is partially paralyzed on her right side. Sad, she was an English teacher, and an avid reader. We used to talk for ages about the books we were reading. Mom needs care 24/7. I wish it weren’t so, because no matter how good the facility, at least down there, the aide to patient ratio is about 20 to 1, and the aides just can’t spend time with her, and time is all she craves. I get so sad thinking about it, imagine never being able to ask a question, voice an opinion, take part in any activities. I asked her if there were things for her to do tonight, and she said, “Oh yes….” which was a good sign. She can usually answer yes and no questions, which is what I try to ask her, and then she babbles unintelligibly until you ask another question.

Her voice was weak tonight, very soft, and quiet. It’s never been like that before. It makes me so sad. I so wish I already lived in Florida. She would be happy at this place if we could come visit her every day. My little sis is going to see her next week. I’m happy about that.

My vacation is whittling down to the last couple of days. Tomorrow I have a party for which I had to make an appetizer and dessert. I made “Pecan Cloud” cookies, which are really just baked meringue with pecans in them. They are so good!!! For an appetizer, I got some proscuitto, fresh peaches, arugula and blue cheese. You layer the peaches with the arugula and blue cheese and wrap the proscuitto around it. They are really good.

Then another friend texted me about doing something on Sunday, it’s going to be 90. We made tentative plans to do something, we will decide at the party tomorrow. Because the rest of our crowd will be there. Probably be about 60 people, it will be fun. Sunday will probably be the beach, or maybe my friend’s boat.

I have had such a nice vacation. Trip to the Adirondacks, Newport, a party, the beach, great weather. Good friends, saw S one evening, and had a couple days at home, to do stuff around here and relax, Reading, writing. It’s all good.

Except Mom. I wish she was happy.

And except, I want to retire more than ever. To spend my days as I feel like, and to be closer to my mother.

My Greatest Gift

Posted on by learning to live like water

I booked tickets to go to Florida for a few days.  Sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?  Out of the deep freeze to sunny Florida for a few days of warmth. And while it is….it isn’t a pleasure trip.

My mom had a stroke last fall, massive, at the age of 93.  And she lived through it, but cannot talk, read or write, which is hard enough.  She needs full time care, which my older sister is lovingly giving her.  But we all know Mom is ready to go.  She eats little, sleeps a lot.  She is still her pleasant happy self, as happy as she can be in the state she is in.  I am happy that she is surrounded by people who love her.

Yesterday my sis texted me that she thought I should plan to head down there in a couple of weeks, so I can say goodbye, and see her again before she goes on that mysterious journey.  I am going, of course.

I have known for some time that anytime I see her could be the last.  I don’t feel like anything has been left unsaid with her, but of course, to get one more hug from her, to hear her say “I love you” one more time will be wonderful.  (She can say “I love you” because she doesn’t have to think about it.)  She is a wonderful mother, as loving and kind as you can imagine.

She is also a remarkable woman.  Her own mother died when she was 4, in 1925.  While her father traveled from town to town looking for work, she lived with a variety of aunts and uncles.  She always said she missed her mother, but she never felt alone because she was part of such a large extended family.  They were kind to her and her sister.

My mother went on to work her way through college, got a degree in economics, and met and married my father, to whom she was married for 45 years, until he died when he was 68.

While she and my father gave me and my sisters many gifts…of the intangible kind….the greatest gift they gave us was the gift of unconditional love.  Both of them loved us without condition.  Neither my sisters or I ever went to bed wonderingst if our parents loved us.  Love ruled our house.  We took it for granted, which is how it should be.  No child should ever question whether his parents love him.  Every child should be loved by their family just because they exist.

This is how a child learns that they have intrinsic value, just because they are.  It is their rock to stand on, it empowers them for life.  It allows them to set boundaries on how they are treated.  If someone treats them badly, they don’t believe they deserve it.  They know it’s wrong.  They also learn that every life has value.

I have known, intimately, a couple of people who grew up without this.  Their road is so much harder.  They can find it, they can eventually come to the conclusion that they DO have value, but the journey there is harder, longer, generally more fraught with pitfalls and potholes.

As I go on this journey to Florida, I will try somehow to let my mother know that I know.  That I also love her unconditionally because she exists.  And that I am so, ever so grateful, that she was my mother in this lifetime.  Of all the blessings I have been given, and they are many, this is one of my greatest.

Go in peace Mom, whenever you are ready.  I know you will never be far from me.  We’ll meet up again, in that place where there is no time and space.

I love you.