For those who knew how close my Mom and I were all of our lives, it stumped a few of my dear friends how I could be so seemingly calm and moving forward without grand remorse or grief or periods of depression that come so very naturally to anyone who sustains a loss. As those who knew my Mom would know, however, she had a plan for that time, and she devised a good one. It came with a great deal of thought, planning, and a laundry list a mile long of things I was to do instead of grieve. Mama always had a plan and that’s saying something when her daughter was built to challenge even the most patient and saintly among women.
My mother had the early life experience of losing someone she dearly loved to World War II. He had been her true kindred spirit, soulmate, and yet…he didn’t return from the war and her life made its first change in plans as she built a future without him. Years later she would meet and marry my dad, and for eight years that worked just fine. Eventually that went the way of past tense and she and I built a new life, one without regret, but not without hardship.
Through every obstacle, challenge, and hardship, never once did I hear her complain. She only showed me the power of prayer, over and over again. It wasn’t something overt and showy…it was silent and reverent and results-getting. I started following suit. Direct prayer and watching what happened afterwards was a lesson in itself. When I say things were tough, believe me, they were. Imagine the 1960s where women couldn’t have a credit card in their name, when it was next to impossible to get credit for a purchase, just layaway existed for those without ready cash.
How she managed to put me through Keystone on a secretary’s salary, I later calculated should have been impossible…but then you’d have to know Mama. So many sacrifices she made and never once did she announce or reveal them. My education meant the world to her as she never got to finish college. She had to help keep the family going during her young adult years as the country was indeed in the middle of war.
Her heart was amazing for her family—she would do anything for them even when they might not have ever thought of her as anything other than “the strong one.” Her example left me an amazing playbook to follow for my life. I often fail miserably but when I do it turns out I’ve turned inward for intelligence rather than seeking the wisdom of the Lord to move forward.
I’m catching on, some 20 years later. One of her favorite expressions was “You can’t outgive God,” although I swear to you she seemed to be able to do just that. She cared so much for everyone and she was insistent I be an active participant in her caregiving. Often, I was her appointed agent for do-gooding and believe me I wasn’t always a cheerful giver.
For example, the time where I was scrambling to get all her meds, foods, and supplies in for her so that I could be gone for a two-day consulting project out of state. I’d been near collapse finishing my checklist and then she announces to me that I needed to go and vacuum our next-door neighbor’s floor for her, because she wasn’t up to it and it would make her feel better (the neighbor).
My protestation that the lady had an adult son living there for whom she cooked three meals a day who could vacuum for her fell on deaf ears. I went over and vacuumed, to the appreciation of my neighbor, who reciprocated in kindness for years and years, traveling to see Mom when we moved away from next door, and calling her daily on the phone, another lifeline. Mama was right. Even after Mom died, the neighbor would call me to tell me that when they sang “Amazing Grace” in church that morning, she thought of Mom, was such a welcome gift.
I was frequently in shock as to where she thought I might come up with the free time that she thought up for me to do this or that. Still, she persisted, and I chose not to buck her. I trusted her and loved her is why. Plus she was charming and funny and witty and you couldn’t help but agree with her. Most of the time.
When Mom passed she had been able to live with me for all but the last three months of her life and the folks who cared for her at the nursing facility saw me three times a day/night/overnight. I knew all the shifts of those who cared for and about her and the staff were all precious. I had been able to prepare for Mom’s final days here with me, thanks to a big sister friend who had sitters for her parents, and I was able to secure the services of many of those same angels and they were amazing. It was not easy but we all created a happy and pleasant working environment with Mama being priority one. The sitters were family to us, not sitters and they filled the pews at church when she passed.
The choir was amazing, the choir director, also a deacon, gave a beautiful message, and over three pews were filled with the family members of my big sister friend, who’d gifted me with her family to share time with for 22 years. Longtime friends filled the other pews and I felt humbled and lucky to receive their support, kindness, and love. I never once felt alone. Time passed and the family I'd been able to share time with was growing, and relationships took different directions, and it became time for me to fly solo, but the love there remained unchanged.
In the past 12 years since, life has been nothing short of amazing. When you have been anchored in faith all of your life, and you’re admonished by your mother never to doubt in the power of God, everything else just seems to fall into place.
It has been anything but easy. I have numerous regrets but I don’t allow them time in my head. I note them and move on, lest I torque Mom off for wasting precious time on Earth. I was admonished to stay away from her gravesite as “I’m not there so don’t go out there thinking you are going to find me for a chat.” Instead, I was to think of her with flowers on my table and talk to the bouquet instead. Flowers continue to find their way to my table, courtesy of precious neighbors and friends who just seem to know when I need them.
Twenty years is the blink of an eye. In 20 more it will be 40 years since that time, and then what? I can’t wait to see what life will be like then, and even later beyond. I’d love to live to age 100 and see what technology has to offer us. iPhone 68 perhaps? We’ll see.
In the meantime, Memorial Day is on its way, and we remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for our country…we have celebrations in their honor and memory and we wear a buddy poppy, Mom’s favorite, in their memory.
To love someone truly means to be able to let go and give them back to Heaven when the time comes. It’s not in my time, or yours, but as my friend Marcia often reminds me, it’s in “God’s own perfect time” and it is always the right time.
One of the reasons I became a Life Celebrant and Tribute Writer is to help people tell their stories of what life was like while they were here. What and who was important to them and key in their lives in helping them to accomplish their goals and achieve their dreams. Hard work, dedication and devotion are all that are required. The rest is just a matter of prayer, and time. It’s not all that I do, not by a long shot, but it is one of the things that I do in the course of my life today. And it is an honor and a privilege.
Go call someone you love and tell them you were just thinking of them. It will bring a smile to you both. “Let go, and let God.” Mama said so. P.S. Of the many gifts that Mom gave me, one was an oil painting of Cher that she did for me because she knew what Cher meant to me as I was a teenager growing up. It just so happens that today is also Cher's birthday, and she is currently celebrating her 79th birthday, with gusto no doubt. It's why I still love her. She defies age and defines life at its fullest. I adored calling Mom my "inhouse artist." You wouldn't believe what else she painted for me. That will be for another time and post.
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