Sad Anniversary

2007-01-25T04:20:00.000-08:00

Today marks 10 years since my Mom passed away from ovarian cancer. She was 62 years old. My Mom was the anchor of our family. They say time heals all wounds, I'm not so sure about that. Ten years later and the loss and sadness is as strong as the day we lost her. Proof, as I fight back tears as I write this.

My Mom was a strong woman. She tried to protect myself and my siblings from the pain and fear she faced fighting the cancer. One day I went to the hospital to see my Mom. My Dad and her were sitting on the hospital bed, their backs to me. They didn't know I was at the doorway, my Mom was crying and my Dad held her in his arms. They heard my footsteps and my Mom turns to me and smiles and wipes her tears and says “Hi Honey” and starts to ask me how I am doing. She put on a brave face and said she was just having a moment.

I knew the outlook for her wasn't good, I just didn't realize how quickly it would turn so bad. She was diagnosed with ovarian cancer in July 1996 and passed away January 25, 1997.

During the last couple months, before she was in the hospice, I would stop over almost daily to help my Dad and sister in my Mom's care and just to be with her. My Mom would be lying in her bed and jokingly ask my sister and myself what did we want from the house when she passed away. She would say all that stuff would be too much for my Dad to take care of when she was gone. I would tell her, how about she just stick around then.

The last week of my Mom's life was spent in the hospice of a hospital. She was dying before my eyes a little everyday. Her face and eyes had “that look”, you know the face of someone with not much time left on this earth. My Mom's last days were not pretty, her body and her mind slowly breaking down.

The hospital staff couldn't understand how she was still alive midweek. They said that she must be holding on for us, not wanting to leave us. A nurse told my sister and I that we needed to tell my Mom that it was ok for her to go. That it was ok for my Mom to leave us. I remember the shock of hearing that statement and the feeling in my stomach as I tried to utter those words.

How do I tell my Mom, this woman who I love, respect, admire and needed, that it was ok for her to die? The only way I could wrap my head around it was to know that she was in pain, that she was suffering and that it was my own selfish need wanting her to hang on. So, for my Mom's sake I uttered those words. “Mom, it's ok for you to go.” “You did a great job raising us kids, we are all well and safe and it's ok for you to go, we are ok.”

My Dad was staying at the hospital day and night. He never left my Mom's side. My brother would stay with him overnight and I would come first thing in the morning. One night my Dad told my brother to go home and get some rest, he didn't need to spend the night. This was the first night one of us kids weren't there.

This night my Mom asked my Dad, “Where are the kids?” He told her that we were all home and that we were safe. Before dawn that morning, my Mom passed away. She didn't want us kids there at the hospital when she passed away. She was protecting us until the end.

My Dad called me that early morning and told me that my Mom had passed away. I remember thinking how relieved I was for my Mom, that she wasn't suffering anymore. When I got to the hospital I remember hugging my Dad and crying. He then left me alone to have my time with my Mom. Then, I walked into that room, the room where in the bed I saw my Mom's lifeless body.
This woman who was so full of life, who was so fun, so positive, so loving, sat propped up in a hospital bed, lifeless.

My Mom always took care of her appearance, always going to the hairdresser and looked nice. Now, her hair was matted and her skin all flaky and dry. I was the first one there to see her and it just didn't seem right. So, I reached into the night stand and grabbed a brush and combed her hair and made it look as neat as I could. I took some lotion and put it on her face to take care of the flakes and dry skin. I didn't want my brother and sisters or anyone else to see my Mom in her final state unkempt.

My Mom was a very loving and affectionate person. She loved to give her kids hugs and kisses. Me, being a “macho” guy didn't have time for those mushy things and would spurn the affection and kisses she wanted to heap on me. Damn, how I regret that.

When she got sick, I realized what a fool I was and started hugging and kissing my Mom and telling her I loved her, I only wish that I had done that sooner. At her funeral, as I looked in her open casket, I leaned down and kissed my Mom. I had to do that one last time.

If you are fortunate enough to have your Mom still with us, do me a favor, take a minute and tell her you love her, give her a hug and kiss. Life is too short not to do it. As I live my life I want to live it with the positive outlook, the humor, class and grace that my Mom possessed. I want my Mom to be proud of me. Here is a quote I came across somewhere and I think about it a lot.

All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother. -- Attributed to Abraham Lincoln