It has been 5 years since my Mom died. She, Joyce Colleen died on New Years Eve 2005 (I have had a hard time remembering what year it was, it seems so long ago and yet at times just like yesterday). I spent the last month of her life with her. She and her husband, my step dad Ralph, and my youngest brother lived together in their home on the gulf coast of Florida.
It was the first time that I blogged - what I did everyday was send an email out to family and friends. It was a way for me to be present with myself and reflect in some way what I was experiencing, what was happening as my Mother moved closer and closer to death.
This is a portion of the email that I sent out letting people know that she had died.
"Dear Ones,
At 5:00 a.m. this morning Mom died. She slipped away without even the teensiest bit of a struggle--she was finally totally and completely ready. Bobby Coin, the nurse who was with Mom for the last two nights was a saint. He was Mom's nurse and adovcate and made sure that she was absolutely comfortable. When I arrived at the house a few minutes after she had passed she had the most beautiful smile on her face. Everyone has struggled so hard, and so long, the love and prayers and concern and support have sustained us. The house is quiet, we are waiting for hospice to come and take away the hospital bed, we have taken away all the physical signs of sickness and pain and are just leaning into the next step...My heart extends to each of you and I know we are all connected in our grief and our love. Mom is at peace at last. "
On Mother's Day in 2007 I was able to write my first poem to my Mom, it reflected a part of her that I had held deep in my heart. This time of year, her birthday was also in December, is like a Mother's Day time for me. So here's to my Mom, to a New Year!
Mother's Day 2007
I was driving down the highway, when I heard about the
roller rink closing.
It had opened the year that my Mother was born.
In that moment of remembering I heard the music and hundreds
of tiny wheels pushing, gliding, spinning round and round the rink.
Wobbly knees and uncertain legs, my Mom holding onto my hand
then letting go - and I am transfixed.
Watching my Mother crossing over her legs to the beat,
head back, smiling as I held onto the side of the rail,
wishing she would come back to hold my hand,
wishing she could hear me as I was trying to figure out how to tell that she was beautiful when she skated,
hands pumping, rhythm flowing and eyes twinkly,
as she let go for just one moment,
and got to be herself.
Thank you Mom.
Comments