The First

Oddly enough the hullabaloo of Mother's Day hasn't brought on the shedding of tears and sadness that I anticipated. I realize that the actual day is nothing more than a "Hallmark Holiday" designed to make people spend money proving their relationships to other people. The sadness doesn't come with the buying of gifts or the Mother's Day commercials like I thought it might.

However...

There is an ache deep down that I know is probably grief. I grieve that at 32 years old, I had to watch my mother slowly deteriorate to the point that she was unable to use her arms or legs. I grieve for the months of mental anguish my mother had when she thought everyone was ignoring her and forgetting about her. (This wasn't the case the but the disease had started to rob her of her short-term memory and logical reasoning abilities.) I grieve for the trips my mother told me about longing to take as she lay in her hospital bed and let me feed her. I grieve for my future birthdays and Christmases and phone calls for advice that will never again be had with her.

I regret that we didn't spend more time celebrating the now. We had no idea that she'd die less than a year from her diagnosis. We had no idea that we didn't have more time with her. I would have done so many things differently. I would have focused more on the "now" and making good memories rather than always focusing on the future and when she would be over this cancer scare. I regret that I felt relieved after she passed away even though I know it's normal after an ordeal like the last few weeks of her life. I regret that I didn't do more.

I hate the disease that whittled a half-marathoner in the prime of her life down to someone who was completely reliant upon others for even the most mundane of tasks like scratching her nose or drinking. I hate the "treatments" that big Pharma recommends and the false hope they bring. I hate dealing with medical insurance people and healthcare financial people. I really freaking hate cancer.

It's therapeutic for me to write these words and I apologize if they are hard for you to read. I've been seeing a grief counselor since after she passed away and have been dealing with some of these things. However, some of these things take more than just counseling to get over. Some take time. Some take prayer. Some take all three.

One of the last lucid conversations I had with my mom was when she was talking to me about working hard all her life to save money so she could travel one day. That one day never came. She worked hard to save money for nothing. I've made this my resolve. I will continue to work hard but I will also take time NOW, while I am healthy, to travel. To see the places she wanted to see. To do the things she wanted to do. To make sure that some of her last words of advice to me won't fall on deaf ears.

All of this to say...if your mothers are still on Earth call them. Send them a card. Text them. Hug them if you can. If you can talk to your mother this Mother's Day, consider yourself blessed. And to all of you who are mothers, Happy Mother's Day.
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6 comments:

  1. I've been thinking of you and your sis as this week creeps (or maybe speeds) toward Mother's Day. The first one without marvelous Marianne. I miss her so deeply; I can't even imagine how much you miss her. Writing often brings healing and we are blessed to read your words. So many life lessons from your mom are still with me and now I will pay special attention to the now. Thank you for being so vulnerable, April. I know it can be difficult. This momma, right here, wishes you a day of happy memories on Sunday. So much love, Karen

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  2. I’m glad writing this post was at least a little cathartic for you. I’m glad you’re together with your family this weekend too. I’d love to see a future post of all the places she wanted to visit if you ever feel up to writing it.

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    Replies
    1. That's a GREAT idea. I will work on that!

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  3. There are lessons in everything, but the most important ones come from the hardest things.

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