The Good

Twelve years ago today, I left two snotty-nosed, sick babies and drove 90+ miles to see my sick mom.  She had been struggling with the flu (so we thought), and her friend, Angie told me I needed to "not worry", but to come up as soon as I could.  What she didn't tell me is that my mom was pretty much in respiratory and cardiac arrest, and the paramedics were in her apartment, working on her to keep her alive.  I probably drove fast enough, as it was. 

I never saw her conscious again.  I did see her after a few hours, ventilated and responsive nothing except for sternal rubs for pain, but it wasn't the same.  I spoke to her.  Called my husband and her mom and her siblings.  Suddenly, I remember the only true lonliness I've felt as an only child:  Do I sit with her, or do I call folks to tell of her grave condition? I did a little of both, in my faded leggings, soft lavender chenille tunic sweater and clogs.  Hair up in the perma-mom-clip.  Boobs swollen with un-consumed milk. 

I also went to the chapel, and for one of the first times in my life, really prayed for God's will to be done.  When I returned to the ICU, I simply showed my mom a picture of our family, and told her we were all here for her, but that if the race was too long.  too hard.  too much.  That Jesus was waiting, and that it was okay for her to go join my brother, Jason.  I had had her in my life for 29 years and 50 weeks.  As he had died as a babe--perhaps it was his turn to have his momma.  I knew she needed rest.  Given the complicated way she lived her life, and the troubled, yet fierce love between us, perhaps God was caring for us both.  He gave her the rest and care she could not give herself on this planet, and he gave me the relief of freeing me from constant worry, angst, and feelings of unworthiness where she was concerned. 

God had his hand on us both as she died.  I was about to go up to the OB wing and pump my dtr's dinner. I was planning to do so really fast, and then get back down to her. An angel (nurse) came up to me and asked if she could have an aide go get the pump for me, so that I didn't have to leave my mom's side.  I gratefully accepted.  About 5 minutes later, just like on TV, I saw a flat line on both monitors in her room.  The medical staff gently came in and talked about further measures to keep her alive. I (knowing her wishes) declined.

Very peaceful. 

I walked into the waiting room, which was full of her friends and my husband, who had made the 90 mile drive up to town by then, and who wept for me.  We all trailed into her room to say a final good-bye.  She would've been mortified without her teeth in, especially since she was only 54, but no one seemed to care.  The staff handed me her possessions, about 25 or 6 rings, and a bracelet and a necklace. 

And that was it. 

Twelve years later, I'm so grateful that she's where she is, and that I will see her again--with no angst or grief.  I'm grateful that her death proved to be a catalyst in my own spiritual seeking of the Lord.  What an amazing final gift to a beloved daughter.  One I hope I'm blessed enough to give to my children. 

Today...I miss her and remember the good.  There was a lot of good.

...the hugs and silly songs she made up
...the way, at 90+ pounds and my height, that she'd always insist I sit on her lap--even in college
...the way she lurved herself a good tan and a pretty manicure
...the way she'd (poor as she was) give you the shirt off her back
...her empathy
...her beautful green eyes
...her unconditional love for me
...her love of the movie Out of Africa
...the fact that she was dyslexic, but darn-it-all if she didn't belong to a book club
...her work ethic
...her fierce love and pride in her grandbabies.  I'm pretty sure God allows pride in grandbabies. ;)
...her love of pretty things, and creativity on a dime
...the way we made each other laugh

 I'll never wear a bikini like that.  But I'm not bitter. :)

 Evidently, she was instructing me/correcting me, and my crossed armed stance wouldn't have it.  Ahem...stubborn?

 Matchy-matchy, circa 1973

 High School Graduation

Proud momma.