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Mom's
Euology
How
many of us have seen her smile or heard her laugh?
How many of us have been invited to her home?
How many of us did she make feel loved?
How many have eaten something she made from scratch?
Or have been the recipient of her welcomed advice?
Or have been fortunate enough to have one of her homemade pieces
of clothing?
This is the way she showed her love…
We’re
all here because we know and love Mom, so rather than starting
at the beginning, I’m going to start near the end by sharing
with you conversation Mom and I had in the wee hours late Tuesday
night shortly before she passed. We were reminiscing about when
the grandchildren were babies, and how wonderful it is to be
a mother. I told her how happy and grateful I was that she and
Dad had made it down to Florida when Russ and I had Jackie,
because I was so ill and I not only wanted her there, but I
really needed her. |
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They
couldn’t get there for Jackie’s birth because it
was an emergency C section, but when Mom and Dad got to the
hospital later that morning, I was so “out of it”
and I couldn’t even open my eyes. She had brought a blanket
with her in her tote bag, and she wrapped it around my shoulders
and neck because I was shivering, and I remember saying through
the fog “Oh, it smells just like Mommy.” The fragrance
of Arpege filled my senses, and I knew everything would be OK
because she was there.
We
talked about how Mom had slept with Jackie that first night
in the hospital—how she had taken her out of her infant
bed and cuddled with her on the pull out in the hospital room.
The third day when Russ and I brought her home, we were all
so exhausted – Jackie cried so much and we just couldn’t
get her to go to sleep, and I was still having trouble from
my surgery. Mom had told me she was going to sleep on the couch
with Jackie, and I was dead set against it. Russ and I had spent
so much time reading baby books, and at the time, there was
a lot of concern about SIDS being caused by babies not sleeping
on firm surfaces, and our overstuffed couch was as soft as a
pillow.
She
told me not to worry so much—that I would drive myself
crazy as a Mom if I became a worrier, and that I should always
do what my heart says is the right thing to do. That following
week, we all took turns on “night duty” with Jackie
– allowing me to better recover from my surgery. But Mom
told me something this week I didn’t know… that
every night she was “on duty” she took Jackie from
her bassinet and slept with her on the couch. She said she made
sure Jackie was on her back and that her tiny little nose was
sticking straight up in the air, and that everything was just
fine. I said “I didn’t know that you did that”
and we both smiled, and she said, “I know you didn’t
know. I’m making a confession….”
This
one story sums up so much about Mom, but three areas in particular.
First,
is that she was a mother and caregiver by instinct. It was a
natural part of her. Between helping to raise her brothers,
to being a Mom to Kathy and me, to all the children she cared
for with her daycare, to being a second Mom to Kathy’s
three children, I knew that she knew what she was talking about.
I trusted her advice. You also knew she loved you and cared
about you. You knew she would do whatever she could for you
and that with her help, everything would be all right. She had
a way of making you feel like you were the center of her universe,
even though you knew she was able to make so many people feel
that way. She showed her heart with her love, and her actions…her
hugs and kisses…her baking, her painting, the hand-made
clothes…her loving advice.
Second is that she always did what she thought was best. I love
that advice about doing what your heart says is right. She would
say that often through the years, especially after we had Jackie.
She said that everything you need to know about raising a child
is in at least one of two places -- Doctor Spock’s book
and/or in your heart … and in the end, to always do what
you heart says. I can’t tell you how many times I fell
back on those words. If I felt frustration or anxiety, I would
stop trying to analyze it so much and would instead take a step
back and get a feel for what my heart said to do, and that’s
what I did. And so far, my heart has always been right.
The third thing is that she was such a wonderful person that
the confession she made in her final hours was that she had
cuddled with and loved my baby. When we were pulling together
pictures for the board today, I found pictures of her sleeping
with me this same way… on the couch, with my tiny little
nose sticking straight up in the air.
While
I’m different than my mother in so many ways, I am also
like her in just as many, and regardless of what the future
holds for me, I hope to live the rest of my days following her
loving example.
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