Mother

Seventeen years ago today, our Mother died of lung cancer brought about by nearly four decades of smoking.  Mom was the glue that held the family together.  She was the teacher, the nurturer, the cook, the parent, the cheerleader, the doctor.  She was the best Mom I could have had and I miss her dearly.

Karen says that I look like my Mom.  I think of all the kids I probably do.  I was also her favorite; there's little point in trying to deny it. I'm her firstborn, the one who spent the most time with her and the one who knew her best.  She taught me, raised me, protected me.  She was my best friend and the most influential person in my life.

I was there the day the oncologist told Mom she had months to live.  That was as daunting an event as I've ever experienced.  It's something we all knew would happen one day but hoped it would be many years down the road.  Mom had actually quit smoking some years ago with the help of an acupuncturist but they found the mass in her chest a few years later when she had some trouble breathing.  I think she lived another three years before she succumbed.

Mom fought.  She fought hard and she never complained.  I don't think I ever heard her cry or seek pity in any way.  She faced her fate stoically and bravely.

When my brother called to tell me to get the hospital, I got there as quickly as I could.  We took the elevator to the floor on which our Mother had been brought and I stopped to say hello to my other siblings and my young nephew and godson.  As I was holding him, the nurse came out and told us Mom had died.

I was horrified.  Mom, who was always there for me, had gone and I was out greeting other relatives. My first move should have been to get in that room.  No one told us that she was near death right then, but even so, I made the wrong choice.  I'm not haunted by it, but I'm disappointed in myself.  I could have had one more moment with the woman who gave me life, fed me, taught me, raised me, and I missed it.

The next three days were a blur.  Her funeral was small.  We buried her in a small, rural cemetery to which we had no connection, thinking she would have liked the rustic nature of the place over a more manicured space.  I don't know that anyone ever talked with her about that, but we should have.  Perhaps we were in denial.

Over the last seventeen years, my life has undergone serious changes, both personally and professionally.  I handled them as I thought Mom would have counseled me to, although I know I did some things of which she would have disapproved.  We weren't always in agreement on everything, although we never had any big fights.

One thing that will always bother me is that she never got to meet Karen.  The two of them would have been so close...and tortured me in the process, but I would have loved it.

I am a better person for having had her as a Mother.  I'm sure I disappointed her in some things, and I know she wouldn't have approved of some of my choices.  But she was my best friend, my counselor, my teacher and my Mom, and I miss her dearly.  I can easily say that I miss her more today than I did the day she died.

(c) 2013 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles