Mother's Love

Mother's Love
Mommy & Liz

Friday, November 30, 2012

a happy moment


A Happy Moment.

I found a video the other day.  It was mostly of Joshua running around with my scarf on his head, but our voices, and part of your legs/feet, are also in the video.  We’re just laughing and carrying on with him.  It was a happy moment last November 17, 2011.  It was just one of our regular Thursday morning visits.  I have missed those so much.  It’s hard to believe it has been a month since your spirit has moved on to another life.  I know time does not exist where you are, but this past month, in some ways, has felt like an eternity on earth.  

Joshua still grabs the two Nature’s Season containers out of the bottom kitchen cabinet and shakes them, taps them together and bangs the tops.  I smile and think about how you taught him that :) shake-shake, tap-tap and banga bang!

I remember a couple of very specific times that I made you laugh, towards the end.  One was us looking at a picture of Joshua sprawled across my coffee table in his new big boy undies and I said “he has long spider legs like Daddy”… you chuckled pretty good at that one.  And, then another time I was telling you about a possible groundhog under my shed and you made some comment I can’t recall exactly, but my response back was “well, it’s better than cats!”, and you just thought that was so funny given my short history with stray cats in the neighborhood.  You told me to stop making you laugh.  I’m happy that I gave you a few chuckles and brought a couple moments of Joy to your heart, even among your darkest of days. 

I enjoyed laughing with you every time we were together before you got sick… especially with Joshua, and most especially with Dad and his antics and your interactions with each other.  I will miss laughing so hard until I cry when you and Dad would get together, and I’m sure he misses that one hundred million times more than I do.

Thinking of you today and every single moment of all of my tomorrows.    


Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Only two weeks ago...

Dear Mom, 

Only two weeks ago.  Two of the longest weeks I can ever remember.  
Tonight, two weeks ago, at 11:23 p.m. your heart stopped and Jesus took you home, to your eternal home.  Your magnificent spirit was finally free of your broken, sick body and you were freed of all the pain and taken into Heaven.   

I was spending my last unexpected night in Florida due to Hurricane Sandy pounding the east coast.  I tried everything I could to get home in time.  I changed my flight 4 times, contemplated flying somewhere else to wait, flying somewhere and then driving, or just driving the whole way.  It became clear to me, although difficult to accept, that I wasn't meant to get home any earlier than I did.  I was planning to bring Phoebe up to your bedside Halloween morning.  I'm not sure why Dad hadn't thought of her visiting before.  But, maybe it's just as well he didn't.  

Two weeks ago, on my last night in Florida, I was trying to get to sleep for my early flight and I said a prayer to let you know that it was okay to go.  If you couldn't hold on any longer and you were ready to go, I prayed for Jesus to take your hand and let you be at peace, in harmony.  20 minutes or so later, I received the phone call from Dad that you were called home, to your eternal home.  I can't even explain how I felt at that moment.  To hear the words spoken out loud.  It was, and still is, so hard to believe the reality.  I'm not sure how much longer I stayed awake, but I just cried and cried and I talked to you as if you were there.  Later on I learned that you were there to comfort me as I learned of your passing.  Thinking back, I believe I did feel your presence.  

I just wish I could hug you once more, and I will truly miss you the rest of my days of this earthly life.  I will miss sharing the experience of having another baby with my Mom in my life.  I think that hurts me the most.  I can't even imagine having another baby without you.  I leaned on you so much during that time in my life.  I will never forget how much we shared together and then shared with Joshua during his first couple years.  I know you can see him now, but I wish we could just sit on the back porch and talk about all the amazing things he has already accomplished this past year.  He can drive me crazy, but he is a true treasure, and he loved his Nana so much.  You are his angel forever.  
       
I feel like just yesterday I was sharing my dreams with you over coffee, or laughing with you over Joshua's latest antic (or David's for that matter) :)  
Even though you went from hospital to rehab for 8 months... there was always hope.  Hope that you would recover well enough to get home and continue recovering and be better than ever.  That's what I always thought, for awhile at least.  

I will never forget the very last time I saw you and you were conscious.  It was just 2 days before you were taken to Maryland General and then onto Johns Hopkins where you would spend your last 40-some odd days unable to speak because of a ventilator and extremely sedated state.  I visited you at Arlington West on a Wednesday.  You seemed very sick and fragile, but I just sat with you and talked like everything was going to be ok.  I shared pictures with you and videos of Joshua painting with watercolors ("color like magic").  I remember you were happy to see the picture of me trying on the bridesmaid dress for Lisa's beautiful Florida wedding.  A time in my life that would be more meaningful than I ever could have imagined.  My biggest regret now is not that I wasn't there when you passed, but that I didn't spend more time with you during that last visit.  If I had known, I would have stayed all night with you and just held your hand and read the bible and prayed with you.  

I also remember the very last time I saw you at Johns Hopkins Bayview, before my trip to Florida.  
I think I knew I was saying goodbye to you that day.  I remember telling you that you were my very best friend in the whole world and that I loved you so much.  And I just held your hand and put my face into your hand.  It was like I was letting you comfort me, even though you couldn't.  I remember you looked directly at me during that visit.  It was only for a moment, but I saw it.  I will treasure all the moments of your life.  I will try to live to honor our Lord, and to honor you and your beautiful spirit. 

Saint Alexis, "Helper of Mankind", Forever in our Hearts, Forever with Jesus.  2.1.46 to 10.30.12