Wednesday, October 19, 2011
My Mom Patricia
I hate to think of how my mom suffered but I still do. She went from a 5'4" beautiful woman with the best set of legs I have ever seen to 4'11" and in a wheel chair for the most part.
I often wonder if that was God's plan, for me NOT to see my Mom in those last moments. Hard to swallow, but don't we all try to make sense of these kinds of horrible things that happen to us?
I had a layover in Texas and called home to check in. I could tell by my sisters voice that it was bad,but I held on hope that I would make it before she slipped away. My sisters put the phone to her ear and I remember begging her to hold on, telling her I was on my way, that I was so close. Please Mom, just hang on. I am coming. Then in a moment that is indescribable, I heard a voice say "it is ok Mom, you can go, I know you are hurting, and it is ok to let go. I love you and it is ok Mom". Was that me saying those things?It couldn't be because all I wanted was to have another one of "our talks", a chance to hug her again, to have tea with her, walk with her... It was not to be. I did get to see her in July of that year. I went without my babies and spent the weekend just being with my Mom. It wasn't enough. Is it really ever enough? I remember asking her if she was scared. We talked about God, about her life.
I was the oldest, yet so protected because of my self destructive past. I think my entire family tried to shelter me from certain things even though I had been in recovery for many years.
I got to Tucson and as I entered the lobby of the airport I searched my sister's faces for assurance that I was not to late. I was, I missed her, I missed her by less than 45 minutes. I ached. I felt such horrible guilt that I did not get there to hold her hand as she left this world.
I got to the house and everyone was around her in the bedroom as she lay in her bed. She didn't look as peaceful as I had hoped. I kept wondering if she suffered until the very end. Everyone left so I could be alone with the woman who believed in me when no one else did. I laid down next to her and sobbed, and spoke to her and waited for her to answer. The feeling is not like anything I can describe. I had lost my Dad and Grandmother years before, and that was difficult, nothing prepares you for such loss.
I have prayed about this for so long, I seek answers about why I was not meant to be there as my Mom left this place. I believe God knew I could not handle it. That she could not handle it. That I would beg her not to go, to hold on, that I would be selfish. That I would completely be broken. He gave me the courage to tell her over the phone that it was all ok. That I would be ok.
In a few days we will celebrate our Son, Cameron's 12th birthday, the year my mom died he was turning 6. I missed his special day as my sister's and I were planning my Mom's funeral miles away. This year I am here with him and she is too, in Spirit.
Months after she passed I was going through some boxes and I found a birthday card that she had sent to me while I was in Grad school... it was one of those voice recording cards It was her voice singing happy birthday to me. My sisters were singing also but I could hear my Mom's voice loud and clear. God knew I needed to hear her one last time. That voice that nurtured me, encouraged me, pushed me, loved me... still loves me even when I feel unlovable. Thank you Mom, I love you. I miss you.