She Was My Mom

Woke up today and got the bad phone call. This morning, somewhere near an hour before I dragged my butt out of bed, my Mom passed away.

She had been suffering lately, and she had grown tired of fighting. I can't blame her, she'd had several heart attacks and stroke, was hit by a truck last summer, and just last week had part of her bowls removed to cancer.

She was...

She was a hard woman that had to fight for every inch she got. There were only a few things that made her happy, and she loved to share those...with anyone who cared to let her. If she had anything (and she never had much) she'd share it with any who needed it. Her temperance was sometimes harsh, but always well-meaning. She made sacrifice after sacrifice, without complaint, to better the lives of everyone around her. I will miss her laugh, so heady and genuine, and the smile that would spring unbidden to her eyes.

We butted heads so very much. She made me headstrong and resilient and gave me true tenacity. She made me strong. My father died when I was a little over a year old, and she tried to play both parts. It must have been so hard for her: not being able to lean on anyone; having to answer the tough questions, alone; trying to understand boy problems when she had never experienced them; and above all, being honest when it hurt. Like most mothers, she put me first, but she did so to the exclusion of everything else. Even when she was dying, she didn't want anyone to worry, or trouble themselves. She did good. There's no way I can adequately express what she was -- or was to me -- but something needs to be said, and I can't form the words with my mouth. She was so strong...

All that I am, she made me. For good or ill, I'm the result of her efforts. I have won 147 awards with the determination and tenacity that she instilled in me. Somewhere inside, I was trying to make her proud. She was always adamant that I use what talents God gave me, talents that she claimed that she lacked. I wish I had some of her talents, the world -- at least the little corner of it that surrounded her -- will miss them.

I know I can never repay her -- she wouldn't ever expect me to -- but this is my small way of honoring her. She taught me that sacrifice is its own blessing; that love is the greatest gift; and that all things material are trivial. It is my sincere hope that I can pass on just an inkling of her (and her indomitable spirit) to my own children.

It's funny how you never realize how crafty or clever someone is until it's in hindsight. She made me independent by holding me too close. She taught me to make the right decisions (and to strengthen my convictions) by making some bad ones. She taught me to stay true to myself and my friends -- with a fierceness -- no matter what the hurt: True friends and impostors will both reveal themselves, given enough time. She taught me that true love is buried deep within a person, and sometimes must be sifted out. Only someone that you truly love can hurt you, she often said, if you don't love them, it won't matter what they think. I carry these lessons ingrained within me for all time, this mortal gift from one so selfless. She taught me what love is.

She was my Mom.

I love you Mom. Now, you can finally rest.