Too soon old, too late smart

Today is mother’s day.  We all have mother’s right?  I did.  She died 2 years ago and now its mother’s day so now I no longer have a mother….that makes me really sad!  No one to send flowers to, no one to phone up, no one for whom to make breakfast in bed on mother’s day.  Of course that also means that there is no one to ask me when I am going to grow up, why don’t I cut my hair and no one to call me at 7 AM before I am awake.  Or why am I crabby when I wake up cuz after all for Pete’s sake she nor my dad were like that!!   I lost count as to how many times I heard that one!!  Funny that as infuriating as that was, here I sit lamenting that I don’t hear it anymore.

When I was 14 and could no longer stand to be around my mother and her madness I ran away from home.  I went far and stayed away long AND I always called home to my mother to let her know that I was okay.  I have absolutely no recollection of why I did that, I can only summize that I thought it would be cruel to not let her know that I was okay.  That I hadn’t been raped, murdered or her worst fear, died from an over dose.

Having a mother is such a strange, wonderful and frustrating thing.  I would have NEVER chosen that woman as a friend if I had met her in some context or another and yet I loved her in a way I couldn’t and won’t love anyone else in this lifetime.  I have not known anyone else like her either. 

Then there is that inevitable day when we wake up and look in the mirror and realize that we are out mothers.  Like when I hear myself saying things such as, “too soon old, too late smart” or “youth is wasted on the young” and I realize its true, I am some version of my mother.  I like to think only the best parts though of course.  I do like who I am though…so Thank you Mom and here is to all of our mother’s….I miss you.  Or as you would have said….OH NUTS!!!

The Angel in my LIfe

Losing a sibling is such an odd thing.  We expect to see our parents die.  We dread the very thought of our children even possibly not out living us.  I have discovered that we don’t give much thought to the loss of our brothers and sisters.  When my brother died I was more grief stricken than I could have imagined.  It was almost as if it was me in that casket.  We were the same biology and it could have just as easily been me.

My brother was my best friend in life.  My greatest cheerleader.  Whatever adventure, silliness or crazy thing I was doing at the time he would simply ask me if I was having fun.  I experienced more love and acceptance from him than anyone else in my life up until his passing 4 years ago.  We spoke nearly everyday and told each other we loved each other frequently.  Upon Kenny’s sudden passing I was the lucky one because we had kept our relationship clean and had left nothing unspoken so I had NO regrets.  Can you even imagine that?  NO what ifs, NO if onlys, just the pure grief of losing one of the dearest people I have ever known.

Kenny was a real character in his lifetime.  Growing up as his younger sister I was always known as Kenny’s sister, a title I loved.  When I moved to California, he followed me with his wife and new baby to be close to me and start a new life in a new exciting place that was close to Disneyland.  When I left my life and moved 90 miles away some 20 years later and he began to visit me there I would take him around and introduce him to my new friends and he became known as my brother.  Until one day when we were at a party celebrating the Summer Solstice and Kenny in his lovely way went around and talked to everyone and was truly interested in them.  by the end of that party I again was known as kenny’s sister.  We laughed about that and I loved it because it once again showed me the character of this man I was lucky enough to call my brother.

 

 

Going for IT! Whatever IT is.

I am just like so many of you.  I am a sister, mother, grandmother, friend and possibly the most challenging of all, a daughter of a daughter.  The only daughter to boot.  I had 2 brothers and you know the saying…a son is a son till he takes a wife, a daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life.  For years I tried to get my mom’s approval to what seemed like to no avail.  I tried to be a good daughter as a child, then came those turbulent teenage years which certainly didn’t help my cause a bit.  Then I tried to be a friend as an adult and at least maybe equal woman status later on as none of the other things have succeeded.  It seemed that the best I could hope for and came to accept was that once a week obligatory phone call.  Then I realized my mother was turning 80 and that I owed her more and actually owed myself more as well.

We lived 2800 miles from each other and I decided that I would to go and visit a minimum of once a year and call her more often.  Although her butt crack of dawn early morning calls were still totally unacceptable to me which for some reason she could not understand nor respect.  After a few visits I made one of the best decisions yet I would stay at my cousin’s house nearby.  Not being together 24/7 was VERY wise.  Of course Mom didn’t think it was that wise and resented it greatly.  None the less, it kept my sanity while I was there.  We started to talk much more frequently than just once a week and definitely talked a lot during figure skating season, one of those things for which we shared a passion.  What did you think of that Emily?  Wasn’t Johnny’s costume something.  I wish Sasha would be more consistent.  I’ll miss Michelle Kwan won’t you?  Things improved between us a bit. 

I was now divorced and on my own really for the first time in my life.  Mom was a very generous woman and helped me out financially.  Thank you Mom, you saved me from those rice and beans days.  Like any self respecting mother of that generation the most important thing to her was that I find a husband not at all understanding the concept of, “I’d rather be alone than with the wrong man”.

Then it happened, the call that would change my life forever!  Mom called to tell me she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer at the age of 83.  I called my boss and told her I had to go and didn’t know when I would be back and they could hold my job or not, it didn’t matter to me I only knew I had to go to my mom.  One thing I have learned in this life is that I have to go for IT … whatever IT is and not have regrets later.

Mom had surgery and came through it like a champ.  After 2 weeks of recouping and weighing her options Mom decided to not have any treatment.  There is another story here which I will save for the future.  She entered the home hospice program and our real journey began.

Mom received the most incredible loving care from a team of nurses, aides, social workers, music therapists, reiki practitioners and other care givers all being managed by me.  Yes the very same only daughter that couldn’t do anything right for her mom up until this point had become the daughter who would be responsible for her mother’s life.

I sat through sessions with her social worker where she talked about me as though I wasn’t there and that was okay with me because this was her journey, her story and her end of life process.  I arranged for music therapy as often as possible because this was her favorite thing.  When she needed more pillows to make her more comfortable I ran out and got pillows immediately.  When her appetite waned I filled her fridge with just about anything she could possible desire in any giving moment.  Her every wish or whim was my pleasure to provide for her.

This journey was filled with just about any emotion you can imagine and mostly it was filled with forgiveness.  More than anything this journey provided us the opportunity to see each other, to truly see each other for the very first time without illusions, agendas or pretence. In mom’s final week of her life when she became bed ridden and unable to speak, I wiped her brow, held her hand, told her I loved her often and even sang to her in my off key voice while I sat vigil with her.

Mom died 3 months to the day after her surgery.  Taking care of her is quite possibly the most gratifying thing I have ever done to date.  We received healing and the acceptance of each that neither of us ever thought possible.  The lessons have changed my life AND given me a new career.  I now volunteer for hospice.

Thank you Mom, I love you.

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