Mom

The day mom died, I got the call and flew home. She waited for me, even though she was unconcious. She died fifteen minutes after I arrived. There is simply no greater expression of love than to hold on long enough to take your last breaths with a particular person in the room. When I think about mom doing this, I'm still filled with awe.

After mom died, I put together a memorial site. I'm still not sure my purpose for this. I guess I've found it hard to talk about. The site had existed for months before I could write this piece. Maybe this was my way of dealing with this indirectly instead of directly.

I remember mom's delight as she discovered the Internet. She was so excited about museums she could visit. She never could visit the cancer site while she was sick, and that never bothered me. While she was sick, she took in just as much information as she could handle and then was pretty firm about not wanting to know any more. I hope she would have liked this site. I know she would have loved Melissa's poem. She was always so proud of all the kids, grandkids, niece and nephews alike.

If I wanted someone to know about my mom, I would want them to know how smart she was, how funny. She was so stubborn, and she used that quality to her best advantage. As a single mother with five kids (plus Cathy), she went to school and got her bachelor's and later her master's degree. Dave and I were pretty young, too. I remember her saying that she had no idea how she had done it, and neither do I.

Mom and I had a rocky relationship, but I never doubted that she loved me. She taught me so much. She used to say that she had never stopped missing her own mother. I believe it, because I will never stop missing mine.

This one's for you, mom.