My Mother

“Mama said there’d be days like this. There’d be days like this my mama said.”

I lost my dear, sweet mother on Tuesday. She was the sweetest lady we could ever know. She died in the morning. We are at a loss for words and direction. She was the one who we would call when we needed comfort.

Mom died Tuesday Morning, October 18, at 4:55 AM. I arrived at the hospital 20 minutes too late. I believe she left us sometime earlier than that. We spent two and a half days in the Medical Intensive Care Waiting room praying for her survival. We knew it was a hard fight.

We sat there with strangers, each sharing their own little pain. Strangers with different lives as rich and deep as ours. Loves, challenges, pains and memories. Just as ours. This is life. This is what we do.

I look around me these past few days. I don’t see any strangers. I see family. I see all those people my mother has touched, directly, or through the sweet lives she has influenced. She married my father, a man strong in faith and beliefs. She raised seven children and 13 grandchildren. She looked after so many children in her 20+ years as a day care provider. She has influenced a great many lives. Look around you, you can see a face that has gazed upon my mother’s smile.

We went back to Mom and Dad’s house to begin our final arrangements. One of my sisters from Texas asked me if Mom had any special or favorite phrases. I said look around the house. The house is filled with pictures of those phrases. “When there is love in the house, there is joy in the heart.” “Welcome to our home, Here find peace and love wrapped in your arms.” I am sure these were gifts, given to my mom because of those feelings that our house embodied. She was a dear, sweet, kind woman.

One of my earliest memories is of my mom. Of course. She was watching the JFK burial on TV. My brothers and sisters and I were playing in another room. My mom was in the kitchen crying. I think I felt worried for her. But I knew she was stronger than myself; I believe I was only four.

I also remember that when I was a kid, probably about 10, I overheard my mother confide in an older lady friend of hers. My mom was worried about her newly developing crows feet and other assorted wrinkles that come along with age. My mom was wondering what there was to be done. This older woman announced to my mother that those were nothing to be afraid or ashamed of. Those wrinkles, or laugh lines, were a tribute to how much she enjoyed life. A tribute to how often she smiled and how popular she was.

Some people call them "worry lines", some call them "laugh lines", whatever you want to call them, they make up who we are. We are what life makes us. We are what we become. Our experiences, our fears, our laughter, our smiles and our problems, they all take their toll on us. They all help to sculpt the lines of our face.

I was ten. I am now past 50. I have lived. My mom has lived. She has seen all of her children grow to responsible adults. My mom has seen the birth of 13 grandkids. She has taken care of countless children in her day care. She died way too soon.

My mom was as aspiring English teacher when she met my dad. I know she loved literature. Maybe I got my love of words from her. I know one of her favorite poets was Longfellow. But I came across two poems that kind of describe how I feel. Not by Longfellow, but by Auden. I shall recount only parts of them here. Mom was my shining star. A light in the night sky that I could count on. She was always there…

From “The More Loving One”:
“Were all stars to disappear or die,
I should learn to look at an empty sky
And feel its total dark sublime,
Though this might take me a little time.”

And from “Funeral Blues”:
“[S]he was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.”

David.