my mom

What a year!

Definitely full of ups and downs.




Yesterday I felt like I was inundated with thoughts. Thinking week to week, day to day, month to month, what a journey I have been on this last year. I awoke this morning realizing that by recognizing what the last year has brought I am on the journey of healing. What a feeling!




Last April I had invited my Mother to come spend a few weeks with us. She accepted the invitation and we shuttled her up to our home. We had Easter together, teddy-bear picnics, bookshopping, lunch dates, and lots of talking, walking, laughter, even tears.




I had been working with her on writing her history and coming to know her better I began to understand some of the why's, and how coulds, ...and all that reason, or lack of, brought me to a new level of healing.
She began her history with, "I have always thought I would have years to write my history, I feel now that time is short and it needs to be done quickly."

That was February 2010, she passed away March 31, 2011.

she was 65, too young

i not 40, to young to watch

Coming to understand and know her better has changed me. I don't excuse my Mother, she and heaven knows that the mistakes and choices she made affected my life and childhood and have long term, seemingly permanent EFFECT on me.
However, understanding brought true forgiveness, which birthed some real true healing in me, and yes, I began to really appreciate the relationship I was able to finally have with my Mother, for one year of my life.




In May I had surgery. That was a truly difficult time for me. So much emotion....oh, I rather not remember....




My mother came and stayed a couple of months with me. She came to help with the children and the house....etc. I wrote about some of my revelations about what that experience was like....and some of what I wrote was not flattering. It was hard for me to realize that my Mother was unable to be everything I wanted her to be. She was broken, down-hearted, insecure, vulnerable...all the things a daughter does not want to see in her own Mother. She was real.




In opposition, we also had some really amazing moments when she was with me. We talked over lunch daily, watched movies, cried, discovered things about one another that forced our relationship into a new dimension.




I watched her help my daughter plant a flower garden for me....some of those plants are now beginning to push up from the cold dead winter earth, a new start; Spring, re-growth, a promise, renewed.




What she was unable to do was no longer important to me, overshadowed by what we had, what we grew in forgiveness, acceptance and understanding; a different relationship, absolutely and fully renewed...even better than the one I imagined, more than I dreamed.




After she left we were on a new level, and our relationship blossomed from that honesty. In fact, with my desire to accept and love her I was able to enjoy her as my Mother.



This renewed relationship my Mother and I had was hard for others to understand. In fact, the judgement of others was harsh and cruel.

I could forgive but they couldn't forget.

It seemed that some thought they had the choice, or obligation, to hold on to my suffering and pain for me. Further to remind me it was there, in case I needed I later. Even harsh enough to say that if I had my Mother in my life than they couldn't be in my life, how could I want that "woman" in my life after....all.




Truth, my mother abandoned me 23 years ago; fact, I spent every one of those years fighting to have her back in my life, desiring foremost that she would want to be my mother.

My Mother made mistakes,

but I wasn't one of them.

The choices she made had effect on me, hurt me; damaged, broken, shattered me.
Forgiving her healed me.
Some of what I learned about her I never knew.

She always wanted me.

She was proud of me.

I learned to some degree I am like her, vulnerable, insecure, sad...also, loving, tender, cheerful, and giving. I discovered further that not only was she capable of being my Mom, but she could become my friend.




From July to November of last year I called my Mother nearly everyday. We continued to work on her life history via email chats, I asked the hard questions, inquiring minds wanted to know...why, what happened, what did she dream of, what were her fears, her secrets, her joys. ....I absolutely knew my Mother loved me, always, and I learned to love her for who she is and to forgive her for who she wasn't.




Other things happened last year. I lost a family member; a friend, a confident.
Because of some really difficult circumstances this person has chosen still to this day to not be a part of our lives. A new abandonment. This is more complicated than I can put into words, and truly to personal to even ponder writing about. However this pain is huge and festering and feels debilitating at times. I spoke with one person about this trial, my Mother. Few others know, and what they do know of it is not because of me. What they believe they know is truly nothing to what we are going through, it's speculation and one-sided, it's rumor. Because of my love for this piece of our family and my hope that things will heal I will never speak of it in detail to another. It is too fragile.




While struggling with this loss and pain my Mother sent me a weekly note of encouragement in the mail. She never missed a week to cheer me with a greeting.

In my pain my Mother accepted all about me, encouraged me...comforted me. Loved.


Her love expressed in her notes was honest and understanding and tender and insightful.


As I coped, She was MOTHERING me. I basked in it.




I called her everyday when I drove to pick up the kids from school; August to November. I miss those daily phone calls, to talk of the weather, the animals, her calling in church, her friendships, her questions about the children, about me...was I focusing still on the goals I wanted to accomplish. Was I keeping my room clean! [Yes, she did ask me that often. It's a work in progress...] :) ...When was I registering for school, what classes? How was I doing with my calling, with being released, how was date night, the kids activities....light chatter, and comfort for the heavy hearted. My dreams, my desires, my fears, my hopes.


She would ask me insightful questions and offer only encouragement and cheerful council. "Things will work out", she would tell me. "Forgive, pray, and be patient."




Often when I asked her how she was feeling she would tell me she was doing well, only tired. She seemed to not be able to shake a stomach flu, or some virus; She didn't know. From October to November she seemed more and more tired, some of the times when I called she wouldn't answer. I missed her on those days. Little did I know how much I could miss her....




Thanksgiving she was taken by ambulance to the hospital and admitted to ICU. What was it? Five roundtrips to the hospital...diagnosis; pancreatitis, flu, bacterial infection, celiac disease; it was always something. Confusing to say the least. She would get better, return home, and fall sick again quickly.








Christmas Eve, I drove my son up the canyon to ski with his friends. On the way down my mother's roommate called, she was sick again, it seemed worse than ever. I asked her to call an ambulance again. While I was on the phone my teen-son kept trying to call; once, twice, finally I excused myself to call him back. He had probably forgotten his gloves, or money for lunch. I dialed his number back, just as I was exiting the canyon, my 16 yr old son didn't answer; his friend answered. My boy had been terribly hurt. Ski Patrol had him. They would be calling me.









MY WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN. My mom, my son. I pulled over. It was completely unreal. Christmas Eve was not suppose to be .....









I waited, they called. He had overshot a jump, fallen 30 feet and landed on his head. He was wearing his helmet. He had been unconscious. He couldn't move his legs, couldn't remember his name, didn't know how old he was, "maybe 14" he said. Did I give them permission to treat him? Don't drive back up, they would be air vacing him to a hospital near me. Wait, don't drive....let them call me as soon as they knew something....anything.




My life became unreal as we began to work with our "new" son. A traumatic brain injury and weeks and months of appointments and worries, and miracles.




Four months later and he is finally beginning to emerge as himself, my son, the boy I remember, the boy he doesn't remember being. So much changed.









January, my mother again was ambulanced, this time it was different. Everything had changed for me. I had to focus on my sons healing, I couldn't be my Mother's everything. My oldest Sister went to help make decisions for my mom. She needed surgery, maybe finally they knew what to do, what might help. The discovery of her health problems was determined, Gastroparesis. She needed a feeding tube. Her prognosis was that she would never again partake of food or water by mouth. Her life was forever altered.




If she wanted to live, she had to have surgery. She wanted to live.









I still wonder if she made that decision to give us time to say Goodbye.









Five days after Surgery I traveled to where my sister was with my mom. The hospital released her and we drove her five hours, home.




We brought her close to us, to a rehabilitation center, to heal her. That was our plan, but not His. It was to be the beginning of the end.
God, grant me the serenity ...to accept the things I can not change, ...the wisdom to know the difference...








Many Ups and Downs; January, February, March.




One day at a time.




We tried, she was moved from one place to another, some healing, some hope, and a lot of suffering. She was never well. Never strong. Always a tiny smile, an expression of love, and a plea with me to "let her go". It was too much suffering.




My son continued to heal, a long and certainly enduring process.




A few weeks ago he said to me, "Mom, I don't feel different anymore."




He was healing.




A few weeks ago, my Mother asked me again...she had asked me three times to please let her go...this time was different. I sat with her. She pleaded with me. She was suffering so much, so much pain, so much agony. "Please, it's time, let me go".




I told her that I didn't want to see her suffering, it was like she was in a prison, being tortured by her physical condition. No matter what cheer we tried to bring her in visiting her, was only miserable for her. She couldn't enjoy us. She was close to home, closer to another home. It was time.









That weekend was terrible for me. Knowing I would go and ask her care providors to allow her end of life care. Her tube was considered a life support, and we would be removing it. It wouldn't take long, she was weakened by her illness, and so very sick.




Some said she looked like a holocaust victim. I differ, she was a survivor, a fighter, she would have if she could have.




In the end, I didn't have to tell them to begin the end, she didn't leave that to me, I don't have to live with having made the decision to let her go. She told them herself. She protected me from that pain.









I stayed with my Mother til the end. I watched her go, I held her hand and wept, and let her leave me, again.









She didn't want me to suffer, watching her die. She asked me to leave, she pleaded with me to mind her. I did. I packed up my things, I left out the side door of the care facility ...and came right back in the front door. I couldn't leave her alone. I couldn't abandon her.









We were there. My brother and sister were with me when she passed away. We were there to say a final goodbye.









And now I am working through what is left. An emptyness that can not be described or imagined. One that is filled only by the love of a Mother. A love I fought to have in my life, a love I forgave to have, for one year of my life...and then let slip through my fingers.

Fragile.

That is how I feel.

And yet,

oddly...

not abandoned.

This year has brought me tremendous growth and trial,




they are not one without the other.

With everything that has happened to you,

you can either feel sorry for yourself

or treat what has happened as a gift.

Everything is either an opportunity to grow or an obstacle to keep you from growing.

You get to choose.

- Dr. Wayne Dyer