A Tribute to my Mother - Published November 9th, 2016

This morning the grief hit me like an unexpected and unrelenting freight train. My plans were forgotten, my determined spirit lost into oblivion. As the waves of sorrow kept on flooding over me, I welcomed the hurt and the remembrance of all that I had lost. I gave myself permission. "It’s okay to hurt, it’s okay to feel, now is the time to grieve."

Twenty-four years ago, to this day, I lost my mother to a long fought battle against cancer. I was only nine at the time and was without a clear understanding of what that would mean for the rest of my life. There were so many things I could not have known.

I didn’t cry then. Not when I was told the news. Not at her funeral (at least not genuinely). Not in the arranged counseling that followed. I was relieved that her suffering was over and that she was now resting in peace. I didn’t want to talk about it. I just wanted life to continue on and to not dwell on the fact that my mom had just died. She had set me up for success and I had no fears in the world.

Looking back now, and I cannot stop the tears while remembering who she was. There are distant memories of her that I never want to forget. Although I am sad in this moment of remembrance, I also cling to the goodness of her wonderful and amazing motherly love that has made a profound and significant impact on who I am today.

Of all the things that she gave to me, the biggest and greatest gift was her love. It was her love that made me secure and happy and free. It was her kindness that showed me the power of a gentle spirit. It was her patience that showed me there is no shame in learning and growing, even through mistakes and ignorance. It was her joy that guided my mornings. It was her humble teaching that led me in wisdom. I did not see that it had been the influence of these attributes that I lost on the day that she died. Now that I see, I will never forget these things about her.  I will never forget how she effortlessly protected my emotional, physical, and mental health through her words and deeds.

I will never forget the time she let me fall asleep on the last and biggest Christmas present, which also happened to be my brother’s (sorry Jesse). I was a jealous, selfish, and overly-tired toddler, but she was patient and understanding.

I will never forget how she responded to my lie about drawing on the downstairs toilet. I was a creative and fearful preschooler, but she was a steady reassurance that it’s okay to tell the truth and she left the responsibility up to me.

I will never forget the time I had a huge meltdown in the grocery store because I wasn’t getting what I wanted. I’m sure she felt the stares and glares of many people, but she never buckled under the social pressure to quiet by caving in or to shame me in public.

I will never forget how she pushed the shopping cart home so I could fall asleep in my post-tantrum exhaustion instead of making me walk. I fell apart but she cared for me anyway.

I will never forget the time she babysat a girl younger than me and I refused to let the child hold my hand while walking down the street. I felt my position was threatened but she taught me the importance of being a gracious leader.

I will never forget her half-hidden smile when I offered the little girl my pinky. I was trying and she was accepting of my effort.

I will never forget her taking me to get caught up on my immunizations before starting school. She didn’t like it anymore than I did but she did what she believed was best.

I will never forget her putting my tears in her pocket when I got hurt. I was emotional but she treasured even my expression of pain.

I will never forget the only time I can remember her yelling at me when she caught me taking my young friend up on the roof of our house. I was an adventurous and self-assured kindergartner and she was well within her right.

I will never forget how she patiently did my hair in curls and took the time to compromise on my outfit for picture day. She had her ideals but she never demanded her way.

I will never forget her teaching me how to read with flashcards. I wanted to give up at times but she pushed me to grow without making me feel pressured.

I will never forget how she did her makeup. I was curious and she was patient with my questions and always communicated that I didn’t need makeup to be beautiful.

I will never forget how she insisted that I invite the girl I wasn’t really friends with to my birthday party. I was unwelcoming but she taught me that it is better to have a friend than an enemy and it sometimes takes effort to really get to know someone.

I will never forget how she guided me in wisdom and used herself as an example of what not to do. She was a lot more experienced than I but she never used her position to make me feel inferior.

I will never forget how she volunteered at my school. I was self absorbed but she taught me the importance of serving others. I will never forget how she celebrated the holidays with crafts, decorations, and joy. Every holiday was fun, exciting, and something to look forward to.

I will never forget the time that I came home with lice. It was a nuisance to treat, but she did it anyway.

I will never forget all the rides to and from extracurricular activities. It was time consuming but she was available.

I will never forget how she taught me how to clean the home. She wanted me to know how to pick up after myself but she always made it an invitation and never demanded perfection.

I will never forget how she started us saving coins for college. She never went herself, but she wanted us to have the opportunity. I will never forget these things.

I was a child and her love was strong. It was not threatened by my humanity. It did not degrade my dignity. It honored and respected my personhood. She accepted me, encouraged me, challenged me, provided for me, guided and nurtured me. She was a giver. She was kind, and she was my mother.

I also will never forget how she started getting sick. I will never forget her pain. I will never forget her body being robbed of strength from the disease and treatment. I will never forget how she arranged childcare when she couldn’t be there. I will never forget how she smiled when I would come home from school even though she was weak and in agony. I will never forget the times that she wasn’t even strong enough to take care of herself. I will never forget visiting her in the hospital and waiting in the waiting room. I will never forget chemo and radiation. I will never forget the time I missed the bus but she drove me to school anyway despite her pain. I will never forget the last time we celebrated her birthday and how sick she became that night. I will never forget the last time I saw her as my dad held her in his arms on the way to car. I will never forget watching them drive down the driveway. I will never forget how sad I was that night. I will never forget that I didn’t even want to play and how I knew that something was different this time. I will never forget the confusion of having so many people in my home after her death. I will never forget her funeral and how I made myself cry.

I will never forget the days that followed. I will never forget how badly I wanted to go back to school. I will never forget saying hurtful things, being misunderstood, and losing a good friend. I will never forget the overwhelming sadness and just wanting to be left alone. I will never forget how much I missed my mom but didn’t understand my emotions. I will never forget the quiet nights, the talking nights, the listening to the radio nights with my brother as we fell asleep. I will never forget just how much I didn’t know that I needed her, and wanted her, and how much I would miss her in my life.

And looking back. Now I know. Now I know what I was losing. Now I see the heartache. Now I understand the pain. I am giving myself room to love her, to love and admire all that she offered me. I am giving myself permission to grieve what was lost. To feel the sadness. To admit the pain. And I honor that grief. To validate her existence. To validate her worth and her beauty. To accept what happened and to receive grace through it all.

None of us are unmarred by trauma. This is just one chapter of my story. It is a chapter that came alive and worked itself out today. It is a chapter that will continue to mold and shape me every time in the revisiting. It has made a giant and unforgettable impression on me. Although the tears were many, I am thankful that they were my companion today. Because of them I will never forget my mother.