It comes in waves and hits like a typhoon! Just as I think I’m OK, and I have accepted the cycle of life and death, I recognize I was blessed. I was lucky to have had my mother in my life for 96 1/2 years; yet, I become weak in the knees, and my eyes go moist! I get teary eyed; my stomach does flip flops, and I get this empty pity feel. But I then realize I must take a deep breath and live life loud for my mom.
Did I tell you that the massive stroke my mother suffered left her blind? Did I also tell you my mother did not know she was blind? My mother thought she could see. In fact, she was so stubborn she told us all the time what she was seeing. We never told her she was blind; we were advised by her doctors, nurses, and aids that it would not be advantageous for my mother to have to deal with this information. So, I had to learn to modify the truth, lie to my mom!
I miss my mom! I miss going into mothers room and saying “hi” several times a day. Often when I would say, “Hi Momma, it’s Karen,” she would reply; “Karen, when did you get here?” It was as if I hadn’t seen her in awhile. She was excited to see me and have me with her. She would ask over and over how long I was staying and I would repeat.”I’ve been here, and I’m staying with you for awhile. We’re having a pajama party, is that OK?” If even for a second I would get a smile and a reply that it was OK, more than OK.
Within minutes that conversation could change, and mom might get agitated, or she may just get busy. Mom was busy completing tasks and if you asked what she was doing; often it was finishing something she had started years ago. It may be preparing for a party, sewing, knitting, a social project, or work. DVasha was not about to leave any business left undone, except for cousin Rob’s afghan! (All these projects were worked while she laid in her bed and moving her arms and legs and shouting out orders to whoever would listen and respond.)
The conversations I had with my mother were both poignant, humorous and acknowledging. Both mom and I had the opportunity to talk and listen and learn. What I miss most is that I can’t go into the next room and speak to her anymore. In fact, I am not even in the same place that turned out to be so special for us for 2 1/2 months. I am now back home where I must plant my feet and bring her memory here with positive energy. I need to let the honey flow through my veins and share the wisdom that she provided.
Tonight I am taking my memories with me to Temple to recite the Mourner’s Kaddish in my mother’s honor. This prayer is said for eleven months, and it said to provide strength to the survivors (the children) of the parent(s) who have passed on to the heavens above.
“This is a profound statement for one in the midst of grieving. It is precisely this type of statement that benefits the soul of the deceased, and proves that those left behind can maintain an important connection with those who have passed.”