I’ve been crocheting a blanket for my grand-daughter and listening to Christian music, specifically, the CD from Heaven is Real and the Newsboys CD. While listening to the Heaven is Real CD and crocheting that little blanket, my thoughts turned toward my mother. This time twelve years ago, she was in the hospital dying of ovarian cancer.
I never would have imagined missing her so much. Sure, I knew I would miss her. I just never thought it would be like this. You know, to the point where tears fall from your eyes when you least expect it or where a mere look from your sister can remind you so much of that lady who took the best care of you she knew how. A word uttered can remind you of the way she said something or the emphasis she put on that very word.
None of us are given a handbook on how to raise our kids. Nope, we are pansters where that is concerned- we just fly by the seat of our pants and hope we are doing it right. Even though I thought my mother was doing it all wrong when I was a teenager, I found out later, she couldn’t have done a better job if she’d had that handbook. Some of the things she taught us, like loving each other (“blood is thicker than water”), we were taught to love God even more. I remember wondering when I was a little girl how in the world it was that I was supposed to love God more than I loved my mother? That was more love than was fathomable to me.
As an adult, I can see that is how much my mother loved us. More than we could fathom. And she still had more love for God. It is much like my feelings for my own kids. My mother taught me how to love God and for that I will be forever grateful.
I took my mother to the hospital just after Thanksgiving in 2004. She supposed she had a virus and couldn’t keep anything down. I hated spending time at the hospital, having a son who was there a lot, but she had spent her time with me at the doctor, so it was the least I could do for her. She was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer. There was nothing they could do for her and I knew she wouldn’t be here much longer. I stayed with her every chance I could, wanting to spend as much time with the woman who gave and sustained life to and for me. We talked and laughed and said all the things we hadn’t said to each other.
I told her what a great mother she was, even though I didn’t always act as if she was and in fact sometimes acted as if she were my worst enemy and spewed hatred towards her. I never hated my mother. I loved her deeply. The way we love our mothers is with a love so deep, it is just too difficult to understand. She told me I “turned out pretty good, after all.” I cried. I needed to know that even though I provided my mother plenty of disappointment, it was not a complete loss. She loved me anyway. And she was proud of me. That’s all I ever wanted to hear from her. She didn’t disappoint me.
My sister and I were there when she passed away. Truly, she had already gone, but her body kept going, slow to give out. I miss my mom terribly today and I am crying as I write this. If you have not told your mom today that you love her and thanked her for doing her best to bring you up, please do it today. Let her know she is the greatest mom ever and you appreciate all her hard work.
As for me, while it seems like ages until I see my mother again, I know it will be just a blink of an eye. I love you Mother and I miss you.