First, before going too far, I want to wish everyone a very happy Mother’s Day. Being recognized once a year is not nearly enough. Being a mom is a 24/7, 365 days a year job.
Speaking from the standpoint of someone who grew up an only child, I may be a little biased. My mom was the most important person in the world to me. She was my everything, my best friend, my cheerleader and my comforter. I swear she could make anything in life better. Was she perfect? No. I didn’t expect her to be.
We would go on trips and even as I went through college, she would sing Girl Scout songs in the car the entire way. That alternated with the Beatles, so overall it was a good exposure to music appreciation. At least that’s what I always thought and still do.
She was an amazing cook when I was younger. As I got older I discovered that either my taste-buds weren’t fully developed, OR she was losing her knack for making everything taste good. She was the only person that I had ever seen put baking soda in spaghetti sauce. P.S. I would NOT recommend doing that. It tastes absolutely disgusting but makes for good stories years down the road.
As a teacher in a one-room school when I started Kindergarten, she was my teacher through second grade. Some days it felt like I had to be the luckiest kid on the face of the earth and others it seemed like maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Mom and teacher could be a little much to handle sometimes. But I wouldn’t have traded that experience for anything.
Our house burned down when I was five. My sixth sense saved us as we went to visit friends, literally minutes before our house was engulfed in flames and collapsed. It was then that I learned what really mattered in life. It wasn’t the material possessions. We were both alive and that was all that was important. It was one of the worst experiences of my life, yet she managed to help me get through it, while I helped her.
She had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis when I was in High School. My invincible mother suddenly was losing her magic touch. Changing more into a caregiver and less into the one being cared for was a difficult transition. Moms aren’t supposed to get sick. They are supposed to have super human powers or at least we grow up thinking that.
In 2010, once again I helped her. She had a surgery that ultimately ended up with her on life support, clinging by a thread. For two weeks, I did everything in my power to will her back. The first night in ICU, I watched the defibrillator used on her. Being a nurse is one thing but being a daughter who knows exactly what is going on is heart-wrenching. Separating out the nurse and the daughter roles were the only way I knew how to focus.
Ultimately, we lost the battle. She was finally free, and, in that sense, we won. No longer dealing with a disease that ultimately would have beaten her at some point, the invisible ropes tying her with so many symptoms were gone.
Although the hardest time in my life was the final few moments, knowing that she had already gone. It was just a shell that remained. My superhero disguised as a mom was no longer here.
What I’ve discovered in the past seven and a half years continues to get me through each time that I want her here with me. Our mothers live in our hearts long after they have passed. We are a part of them and always will be. There are signs everywhere that give me every reason to know that she never left my side. Why? Because believing in something is better than having no hope.
We always need our moms, no matter how old we are. Happy Mother’s Day to the best mom that ever walked this earth..
If Roses grow in Heaven
Lord, please pick a bunch for me.
Place them in my Mother’s arms
and tell her they’re from me.
Tell her that I love her and miss her,
and when she turns to smile,
place a kiss upon her cheek
and hold her for a while.
Because remembering her is easy,
I do it every day,
but there’s an ache within my heart
that will never go away.
– Unknown Author