I am a bit fond of this poem that I wrote. It’s one that simply came from my heart. Of course, it’s about my mom and she was amazing in so many ways. I miss her so much every day. Some days are harder than others. Today was a great day spent with my dad, but tonight, I’m thinking about my mom. She and I were very close. There were times we acted more like sisters than mother and daughter. I am so grateful that I was blessed with a mom like her. She was the kindest, most thoughtful and generous woman. I know you are probably tired of reading about her, but until I’m tired of writing about her, I will continue.
Sitting with my dad and my awesome Aunt Bea today, I was reminded of where my parents came from. Dad told me stories as well on the 2 hour trip home. How wonderful to be able to spend time learning about life back in those days. You see, my family is from Ireland. My dad came here in 1955 and went back to get mom in 1960, in case you hadn’t read my first blogs. Being a first generation in this country is not like most people here. We have a different outlook than others because of where and when our parents came from. My mom was an exceptional woman in every respect. Imagine leaving your family and friends and all you know and hold dear to marry a man and move to a new country. People do it, but, back then, the airfare and phone calls were very dear. There was no email or technology as we know it now. No Skype. No, nothing to keep in touch with most people very easily. Mom came here with a little red case. Those were her worldly goods. The only other thing she had was her new husband waiting here for her and her new married name and a few of his relatives. Imagine how brave she was. I know her bravery and strength. She was unwavering in that department. She will always be the strongest woman I will ever know. She had to be. Here is my poem. I hope you enjoy it. No iambic pentameter here!!
She was there. Always available for everyone. Always.
What happened just simply was unexpected and unfair.
It was a completely ordinary day, like so many in her life, but this was the day that would change the course of everyone’s life forever.
She dressed, ate breakfast, had her tea with milk and Truvia. She went to Mass with her husband.
She tidied the house and called on a friend. She was just visiting. Just for a little while, and it happened.
IT happened. That was the last time she was who she had always been. The always of 85 years. Was it her heart? What was happening?
They took her away. It was so busy, so many people, machines, voices. Where was her family? What was happening?
She slept. Her family was there, but she was sedated with medications and tubes and the ventilator and the drain. That drain. So many people, then not so many people anymore.
The tubes disappeared one by one. She awoke. Her speech was slurred but she was here, sort of.
“Hi Mom! It’s me! Do you know where you are? I love you Mom.” She smiles and recognizes her daughter. She begins to build some strength.
She sits up in the chair. “Hi Mom! Do you know where you are?” I do, I think I do. I answer. I’m not right. “It’s okay Mom. You’ve been through a lot. ” She explains, but I can’t remember.
“Hi Mom. I love you so much Mom. Please fight Mom. Please. Please.” She can’t eat, or stay awake very long. She wakes only for her daughter. She doesn’t respond much to the others.
“Mom, it’s okay to go. I will always love you, forever. It’s okay. I’ll take care of everyone. You taught me how. I promise I’ll make you proud, Mom. I wish you could stay, but I know you can’t.”
It’s her son’s birthday. She made it. She feels her daughter holding her hand. She’s been holding her hand for a long time. Now she can peacefully go home. Her daughter cries again. “I love you so much, Mom. Watch over us”.