Happy Birthday Mom

Today is not going to be a typical blog. You see, today was my Mom's 55th birthday. She died almost 4 years ago. Everyone says that time heals all wounds and that is somewhat true. It has gotten easier. I am able to talk about her without crying. Most days anyway. I was 24 when she died. I was a Mom myself. I still wasn't ready for her to go. I don't think we ever are but I still needed her. I still need her.

My Mom was an amazing woman. She lived life to the fullest. I have so many awesome memories of her! When I was 10 she shattered her ankle while sliding into 3rd base during a family baseball game. She had to have surgery and have a plate and several screws put in. A month later, she took us swimming at the lake. Wrapping her leg in a trash bag was not comfortable so she took it off and swam with us. When we got home, she cut off her cast with a butter knife. Dad was mad. She went to the doctor the next day and he put a hot pink walking cast on her. A few days later, Mom took up jogging on her walking cast. Dad gave up and didn't say anything about that. Mom was a force to be reckoned with.

And boy could she dance! On Saturday afternoons, we would turn up the radio and dance around the kitchen to the golden oldies while home made cookies were baking in the oven. She was a good card player too. We would have marathon board and card games. She never caught on that my little brother and I always cheated. The corner of her mouth would always twitch when she came back in the room and we had a handfull of aces. She never said anything though. She just acted amazed that we won so cleanly and quickly and said, "You guys are rough to play cards with! You would think you would take it easy on your old Mom and let me win a few!"

She had faith that saw her through some difficult times, including motherhood to 4 unruly kids. And then later, 4 ungrateful teenagers. She was a foster Mom too for a few years. Her faith also saw her through her discovery of a brain tumor that had been growing for 5 years. It was an eye doctor who discovered it. The medical doctors kept telling her she was going through "the change". She started to loose vision in one eye and a cat scan was ordered. What they found was a tumor the size of a softball wrapped around her pitutiary gland and squishing the ocular nerve of her right eye.

It was a shock to us all. She told each one of us indivdidually. She acted like it was no big deal. I remember at the time I was working second shift for the post office. She was working third shift. After I got off work, I would sometimes stop in and have her break with her. Mom would just be starting out the evening and not quite awake so for her first break of her shift, she would have her hot green tea in one hand and her Diet Dr Pepper in the other. Oh yeah, and she sipped both out of a straw. She didn't want either liquid to stain her teeth. She would call me on her way home and if I was up we would chit chat. This was an entirely different call.

"Hello?"
"Were you asleep?"
"Yeah but that's okay. How was work, Mom?"
"Oh pretty good. Having that MP3 player you showed me how to work really makes the night go by fast! Be bopping along to Johnny Cash and Mercy Me is my way to spend an evening. I have to be careful not to sing though."
"You shouldn't try to hold it back. Belt those tunes out! People would love it!"
"That would be pretty funny! I have something to tell you, Hannah."
"Okay, what's up?"
"I have a brain tumor."
"What?!"
"Yeah, I know. A shocker huh? I've been trying to tell your Dad I'm not normal for years."
"Mom, why are you joking? Brain tumors are serious! You could die!"
"Honey, I know that. You want to come over for supper?"

Just like that, my worst fear was realized. My Mother was going to die. I knew it. My siblings did too. And my Dad? Forget it! He didn't know how to deal with it. They were married for 32 years, right out of high school. Mom told us all she was going to be fine. I think she knew though. She had talks with each one of us kids that we still remember. Talks about life and love and loss. Talks about how much she loved us. Before she went into surgery, she told us that she knew one way or the other, God was going to heal her. She wouldn't be in pain anymore. And He did.

After surgery, she had a grand mal seizure and took her last breath in my arms. I was helping her out of bed. I held her while she seized and told her how much I loved her. I told her to relax, that it was okay. I can't remember what all I said. I had no idea she was dying. That my words would be last ones she would hear. For the longest time I struggled with that. It was the hardest thing in my whole life. But after a few weeks, I began to think differently. If I had a choice of how I was to die, hugging my daughter while she whispered words of love and encouragment would be right up there with number one.

In a way, it was like I got to pay her back just a fraction for all the pep talks, hugs, whispers of love, encouragement, band-aids for skinned knees, kisses to make them better, and "I'm proud of you"'s. I started to look at it like a positive thing. I sent her off to heaven with words of love.

Surprisingly enough, my then 5 year old daughter helped me most to deal with Mom's death. She asked me where Nana was. She couldn't understand what it meant when someone died. My family made the heart wrenching decision to not let the grandkids, our kids, to see her in the casket. It didn't look like her. Sure, it was her body. But Mom wasn't there anymore. My Mom always had a smile on her face. Even when she slept she was animated. Animateldly snoring for sure! But it was still Mom even then. But that shell in the casket wasn't. They were upset. All 6 of them were insistant on seeing her. I explained it to them like this....
"You know how Nana and Papa had different cars right? When Nana needed to haul the dogs to the vet, she took the truck. When she had to drive to work, she took her car. And when she was feeling very adventurous, she took her motorcycle. Well, Nana's body is like a used car. She isn't in that body anymore. Nana is in heaven. She didn't take that shell with her because God gave her a brand new body."

They seemed somewhat satisfied with that. The next question came from my daughter. "But, I want to tell Nana I love her. I didn't get to tell her before she left her used car." I replied, "Honey, she knows you love her. She loves you too. Even death cannot stop Nana's love. In fact, we get to take her everywhere with us now. She is in our heart. Your heart goes with you. All that love goes with you too."

Mom, I love you. I miss you everyday. I wish I could talk to you and hear your distinct laugh one more time. Have another one of your pep talks. Get another amazing Mama hug. What I wouldn't give to hear you say what you think of all the changes that have happened in the last year. Would you save all that up for me? Would you give it to me when I see you in heaven? We will have a lot of catching up to do, Mom. Save a place for me, will you? And put a good word in for me with the Big Guy.