Happy Birthday Mom!!

Before this day ends, I wanted to take a moment to reflect on the day. Today my mom would have been 72 years old. It amazes me that this is the 8th birthday that this woman has not been able to celebrate her life with us. Today I think of how grateful I am to still be blessed with the gifts she bestowed upon us. What comes to mind is something she said to me over 20 years ago when I was going through a particularly trying time. She said “you will get through this, and you will be stronger because of it”. I think of all the times those words have urged me to to carry on, and how thankful that my mom still manages to provide strength and courage when I need it the most.

I am going to share one last gift I have for my mom. Something I wrote about her earlier in the year. At the time it was the first thing I had sat down and wrote in awhile, and sent me on this path that led me here. Entangled throughout is the ever frustrating “I’m fine” that I have referenced in my recent blogs, is a story about about a stubborn lady’s refusal to give up. That refusal gave us 18 more months with her. During that time my children came into our lives, and she was able to meet my girls. She knew all of her 8 grandchildren and they got more time with her as well. She fought like a champ right up to the end. In the end my mom gave us love, courage, fearlessness, and humor. Happy Birthday Mom and thank you for all you have given us.

I’m Fine

The response to our questioning of your well being always “i’m fine”

Knowing full well that you cannot possibly be fine right now.

As the words linger in the air, “there isn’t anything else we can do”.

Looking to you,concerned that you haven’t heard the doctor.

We all soberly head to the elevator to bring us to our cars.

Both not wanting to hurry because the truth is to much bear,

And wanting to drive away at mach 10 from the reality of that moment.

We strap in as the silence envelops us.

Who was it that took a stab at humor to give us levity in this moment.

Usually our go to because reality tends to suck, and that is how we deal.

Today it lay like a brick at the bottom of a murky pond.

There was no lightness to this day.

We took you home and smothered you with our presence.

Wanting to savor every moment.

Looking for those last few nuggets of wisdom from you.

Wanting this time to last forever, but knowing that was selfish.

We watched your once strong body, not able to support you anymore.

As the light began to dim from your eyes mom.

The reality that you were not long for this world finally registering.

And still the answer to our inquiries, always “i’m fine”.

The last days you lay in bed, but really you had already left us.

I pushed the morphine up as frequently as allowed.

Knowing that you did not want to remain in this state of limbo

Or have family come by and visit your body barely hanging onto life.

I knew it was time, as the rattle grew deeper and breathing grew more shallow.

You opened your eyes for the first time in days, and you knew too.

As we held your hand, brushed the hair from your face, one last kiss.

“It’s ok Mom.” I whispered  “You can go now, we’ll be fine”

KTS

6/9/18