Mom...So much more than a word to me.
July 19, 2013
At times, if I close my eyes I feel as if she is still with me. I can feel her tender arms around me. I can feel my head on her chest as we lay together on the couch laughing and telling stories. I can hear her voice...
It was an early September morning in 2001. The priest arrived to read my Mom her the last rights, the hospice nurse was consoling us, we were in the front room saying our good byes at her bedside. But she didn't die that day, she came out of it. It was a miracle. In the days that followed she had a burst of energy, she was eating like she had never eaten before, was talking like she wasn't ill. It was so wonderful.
If I am honest with myself, I think I knew, but I really wanted to believe it could happen.
It was a typical September morning, and I was standing at the bus stop with my kids. When the bus doors open the driver asked if I had heard the news. A plane had hit one of the towers in New York. "Tragic" she said. By the time I had driven over to my Mom's the other tower was hit. September 11, 2001 a day our Nation will never forget. A day that my heart broke; for our Nation, for those lost and for the realization of what was to come in my own life.
I immediately called my husband. He was on the golf course with my Dad trying to take his mind off of everything. I wanted to know if he had heard.
My husband Steven was originally from New York, we met in Missouri when I was in high school while he lived here briefly. Then shortly after getting out of school, I moved to New York. we were later married and our first two children were born there. He was a New York Iron Worker for almost 10 years, his father a former New York City fireman and iron worker.
When my Mom started getting really ill, we moved back to Missouri. But of course we had many friends and family still in New York.
I couldn't believe what was unfolding before our eyes. It was horrific.
I was crying for all those lives, but at the same time I was also crying for my Mom. As I sat across form her my heart sank. Her face was just blank that day. My Mom was the most caring, loving and emotional woman I knew. Yet as we watched that horrific day unfold on the television, there was nothing in her eyes, it was like she was lost inside her own body. It was on that day, I knew.
People always ask if you remember where you were that day, I will never forget. It was the day I realized my time with my Mom was coming to an end.
Two nights before she passed away I had spent the evening at her bedside. My father was upstairs sleeping and we were in the front room were the hospice had set up her bed.
I knew she never wanted to be like this, she wanted to die in dignity and even that was being taken from her. In the middle of the night she sat up and called my name "Terri!" I answered her and came to her side. She simply said "I love you". I sat at her side just sobbing, "I love you to Mom, I love you to." Those were the last words I ever heard her speak.
The next day my Dad told me to go home, he wanted to spend the evening alone with Mom. It was the hardest thing for me to do, I wanted to stay, but I understood my Dad needed his time with her as well. I went home, and got up early the next morning to head over to see her.
I was barely out of the car when my dad appeared out the front door and stood on the porch. He took one look at me, I could see it on his face, and then he bowed his head. I screamed "No!" I drop to the ground and sobbed. "No! No! No!" When I walked through the front door and I saw her laying silently and breathlessly in her bed.
September 25, 2001 I lost my Mom to the horrible "C" word. I refuse to give it the satisfaction of saying it's name. She fought a long hard battle but eventually her fragile body just gave in.
I felt an emptiness inside me. a void in my life. I lost my best friend...my Mom.
Mom never wanted a typical funeral, but a celebration of her life. And I wanted to give her that. I was always writing poems for her, for Mother's Day, their anniversary...So at her service, through the lump in my throat, the tears streaming down my face and my Uncle Len (my Mom's brother) at my side I read...
What I didn't know at this time was that my journey with my Mom wasn't quite over...
July 19, 2013
At times, if I close my eyes I feel as if she is still with me. I can feel her tender arms around me. I can feel my head on her chest as we lay together on the couch laughing and telling stories. I can hear her voice...
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| My Mom Dee and Me This is one of my favorite pictures of us |
It was an early September morning in 2001. The priest arrived to read my Mom her the last rights, the hospice nurse was consoling us, we were in the front room saying our good byes at her bedside. But she didn't die that day, she came out of it. It was a miracle. In the days that followed she had a burst of energy, she was eating like she had never eaten before, was talking like she wasn't ill. It was so wonderful.
If I am honest with myself, I think I knew, but I really wanted to believe it could happen.
It was a typical September morning, and I was standing at the bus stop with my kids. When the bus doors open the driver asked if I had heard the news. A plane had hit one of the towers in New York. "Tragic" she said. By the time I had driven over to my Mom's the other tower was hit. September 11, 2001 a day our Nation will never forget. A day that my heart broke; for our Nation, for those lost and for the realization of what was to come in my own life.
I immediately called my husband. He was on the golf course with my Dad trying to take his mind off of everything. I wanted to know if he had heard.
My husband Steven was originally from New York, we met in Missouri when I was in high school while he lived here briefly. Then shortly after getting out of school, I moved to New York. we were later married and our first two children were born there. He was a New York Iron Worker for almost 10 years, his father a former New York City fireman and iron worker.
When my Mom started getting really ill, we moved back to Missouri. But of course we had many friends and family still in New York.
I couldn't believe what was unfolding before our eyes. It was horrific.
I was crying for all those lives, but at the same time I was also crying for my Mom. As I sat across form her my heart sank. Her face was just blank that day. My Mom was the most caring, loving and emotional woman I knew. Yet as we watched that horrific day unfold on the television, there was nothing in her eyes, it was like she was lost inside her own body. It was on that day, I knew.
People always ask if you remember where you were that day, I will never forget. It was the day I realized my time with my Mom was coming to an end.
Two nights before she passed away I had spent the evening at her bedside. My father was upstairs sleeping and we were in the front room were the hospice had set up her bed.
I knew she never wanted to be like this, she wanted to die in dignity and even that was being taken from her. In the middle of the night she sat up and called my name "Terri!" I answered her and came to her side. She simply said "I love you". I sat at her side just sobbing, "I love you to Mom, I love you to." Those were the last words I ever heard her speak.
The next day my Dad told me to go home, he wanted to spend the evening alone with Mom. It was the hardest thing for me to do, I wanted to stay, but I understood my Dad needed his time with her as well. I went home, and got up early the next morning to head over to see her.
I was barely out of the car when my dad appeared out the front door and stood on the porch. He took one look at me, I could see it on his face, and then he bowed his head. I screamed "No!" I drop to the ground and sobbed. "No! No! No!" When I walked through the front door and I saw her laying silently and breathlessly in her bed.
September 25, 2001 I lost my Mom to the horrible "C" word. I refuse to give it the satisfaction of saying it's name. She fought a long hard battle but eventually her fragile body just gave in.
I felt an emptiness inside me. a void in my life. I lost my best friend...my Mom.
Mom never wanted a typical funeral, but a celebration of her life. And I wanted to give her that. I was always writing poems for her, for Mother's Day, their anniversary...So at her service, through the lump in my throat, the tears streaming down my face and my Uncle Len (my Mom's brother) at my side I read...
A Celebration of Life
My Mom had not asked for us to mourn her death,
she asked us to celebrate her life.
Today I will celebrate the life of my Mom,
My best friend, my mentor, the keeper of my heart.
Today I will celebrate her love for life,
her strong will and desire,
and her unending love for her family and friends.
Today I will celebrate and look not on her passing,
but on her life she shared with me and all those she has touched.
Today I will celebrate and honor her,
I will thank her for the gift she has given me.
A gift that I will always treasure.
A gift that I will share with all those I love,
and all those I meet along my path.
Today I will also celebrate the life of my family,
we are now the keepers of her heart.
We must keep her spirit alive,
and share all that she has taught us.
We must love as she did and care as she did.
We must give to others as she has given to us,
and we must honor her as she has honored us.
Today I ask that we all celebrate the life of my Mom.
I love you Mom, Always and Forever
Then I read her the poem I had written for her a few years prior...
MOM
One I care for so deeply,
and hold in my heart.
Who gives hugs when we are together,
and advice when we are apart.
One I've shared with late night stories,
of my dreams and of my worries.
One who gives with out taking,
ad has become a mentor for her peers.
Who has a mission upon waking,
and is wise beyond her years.
One who stands for what is right,
and makes mention of that plight.
She is stubborn-willed and strong,
and she would go to any length,
to put everyone before her,
she is made of love and strength.
She is so much more than a Mom to me,
she is a friend that I admire.
To become a Mom that's half of her,
would be my true desire.
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