mom's day

My mother would have been 68 yrs old today. It's her birthday today. It's also the day she died on in 2007.

Mom died on her 63rd birthday. July 8th, 2007.

Until you lose a caring mother it's impossible to know what that feels like.

Over the years I've known quite a few people who have lost their mother too. I feel for them. I can empathize. I also feel a sense of not being alone & a welcome to the club mentality. That last one seems strange to me but its there.

It's Sunday morning. All is quiet. As is usually the case around here during the 7, 8, 9. & sometimes 10 o'clock hours. If they aren't rushing around to get somewhere then no one here is usually up for the morning.

Eh, better for me I think. I like this time alone. It's the middle of the day & the night time that I don't like being alone so much.

But back to Mom. I miss her everyday. It's hard not to think about her. The person that loved & nurtured you more than anyone else ever will. Plus her imprint is on the things I do.

It's a funny statement when you hear someone say, "OMG, I'm turning into my mother."
But the truth is you were ALWAYS going to turn into your mother. You just didnt know it then.

Mom had faults. We all do. And you pick up on those too. You're not a carbon copy but little things stick with you.

Cooking. Mom was a great cook. Taught both my sister & I how. We're both pretty good cooks in our own right now. The kids arent interested in learning but they will be. And then it'll be tough. Maybe a fiasco or 2 along the way. OK by me...not my kids. But I didnt want to learn until I got out on my own either. I'm sure it will even itself out.

Dramas. Mom loved watching dramatic TV. And this was in a time before you had 100 channels to choose from. I can remember being home sick from school. The 'Price is Right' which is still on at the same time of day. Then it went into soap operas. God I hated those. But at night time Mom controlled the TV. I was the remote until TV's came with remote controls. I learned how to adjust rabbit ears too. But it was Dad that showed me the tin foil trick.

Cop shows, Medical shows. All that primetime junk that, honestly, I don't really watch anymore. I like the reality stuff better. If I'm gonna watch a crime drama then I'm gonna watch a real one. No scripts needed. But I was well versed in those shows from an early age. I watched Marcus Welby MD along with a whole host of shows that by just their name alone can take you back to a different place.

Now thats not to say we didnt get to watch stuff we as kids wanted to. We did.

But I also remember when we got a little older that mom & dad would go out more. Drinking mostly. We'd get left behind with a sitter or, later, by ourselves. I gues I was around 10 when that started happening. Sis woulda been 13 then so that sounds bout right.

Anyway, when they left they always had instructions. And let us know what there was to eat, so on, so forth. To this day I cant eat totino's frozen pizza or any type of pot pie. Just cant do it. I think I'm missing out sometimes with the pot pies but not the cheap, little plastic squares of fake pepperoni on cardboard crust. I see the new ads on TV for those now & I'm like no fuckin' way. There's all kinds of stuff I would suffer thru before eating one of those sonsofbitches again. Just bad memories.

Isnt that funny how you can associate bad times with things. Random things that in any other persons world would be totally insignificant but in yours it has made an impression on your psyche that will last the test of time.

Just like the memory of my mother. She will always be there. In some ways she's in my life more now than she was then. She's always with me now.

One of the best things I ever did was to go take care of her as she left the hospital following her cancer surgery. 5wks I spent with her. Cleaning, changing dressings, feeding thru the tube in her stomach. She couoldnt eat anymore so fed thru a tube. It was awful for her. She loved food too. But during the last she didnt get to enjoy any of it.

She couldnt really talk. Very little & it was a struggle. Lotes of notepads & written messages.
One thing I did though didnt need any words. I could still eat. Mom would buy stuff & keep it in the freezer. So I raided the freezer. Got some shrimp out one night. And made Shrimp Arabbiata. I dressed out the plate. It looked like a meal you would get at a 4 star restaurant by the time I was done.

Mom watched every move I made. When I could smell the cooking I got concerned because I didnt want to torment her. I hesitated & stopped. Asked if she was ok with it. She nodded it was fine. And I finished. When I got done I showed off my creation. She smiled an approving smile. And spoke a few words about how it looked so good & how she was proud of me. How I learned & taken things to another level. Which is what any parent wants for there child isnt it?

I ate. It was good. Really good. But bittersweet.

Some time later I had to leave. I hated to but I needed to try to work things out at home. That was falling apart too. Although I had a bit of a blind eye to it. I just knew I needed to get home & take care of my other family. A couple weeks later Dad & I went back to the house to start the moving process. See Dad had to find a new job. He did, in Florida. So we were gonna move the big heavy stuff ourselves & only son got drafted. No big deal. We spent a few days. Loaded truck & trailer beyond capacity & got ready to leave. We had forgotten something. A crystal chandelier. Mom came out the front door at a run. Well, what a run was for her. I jumped out. Grabbed the fixture, gave her a kiss, put it in the cab & we were off.

She was standing on the front porch. As I looked back I could see the pond & landscaping in the background. Took in the view of the house that Dad & I had built by hand, and my mother waving goodbye. A smile put on an un happy face. She was sad but she smiled anyway.

6 weeks later we got a call from the hospital. she was having trouble breathing. The home nurse took her to the emergency room. They said we should come. So at the drop of a hat my father was on a plane from fla. to Atl. where he met up with my sister & I and we all flew to StL.

When we got there she was unconscious. The cancer had come back. It had overtaken her in just those few short weeks. She never woke up again. We were all there til the last breath. Holding hands. Her surrounded by her family. No pain.

I can remember seeing the color of her face change when she died. It just drained away. I do remember that.

But the memory I always get when I just think of Mom is her standing on the front porch waving goodbye. Comforting me that she was OK when I think she knew she wasnt. Protective motherly instincts to the last.

At least thats the way I'm gonna carry it.

So on this Sunday, July 8, 2012 I wish my mother a happy birthday. A day of remeberance. And its nice to know that she is still with me wherever I go. Whatever I go thru. I can always close my eyes & see Mom.

PEACE!!!