My Mom--dedicated to my new friend Kathy

Kathy and I made a deal last night. We would both write about our moms. Here is my blog. I am going to force myself to sit here for about fifteen minutes and write....Part of loss, and part of the feeling of anger and sadness is that the person, in this case, is just gone. How can we honor them? How can we possibly share with others that a person that is a huge part of our everyday life is a "deceased" person? People get so funny about those who have moved on, passed away, succumbed, and the D word, ha ha.....No one wants to let the passed away person in on the conversation. They feel uncomfortable, and want us--those in bereavment--to just shush  about our feelings, our sadness, our thoughts, our memories. So the best way to reclaim our space with our people--our passed on folks--is to find a receptive audience to listen.


Sometimes that person is a counselor. Sometimes a pastor. Sometimes a medium. Sometimes a person of like mind.


Okay. Here goes.


My mother was born August 23rd, 1937. She was born into a family in Wapato, Washington, a family of five other siblings. Her parents--my grandma and grandpa--owned and ran a florist, The Wapato Florist. It was always a point of great pride.


Mom married my dad in 1957, May 17th. They had a good marriage for years, and raised us on a 40-acre farm, that I now own part of. It's only 17 acres now, because when my parents divorced, Mom got have of the property, and then Dad sold more of it.


My mother made her life hard, and she had terrible things, terrible events. Her only son, my brother, died when he was only 18. To a great degree, that is when she stopped being a mom. She began drinking, carousing around, using language I had never heard from her. She was always a very attractive women, with blond hair and green eyes, and very trim, considered a petitie, although she had legs up-to-there, but she gained weight. It was the alcohol.


She eventually put herself into rehab.


Fast forward....Mom died of COPD last October 8th, 2011. Mathmatically speaking, I have figured out that the last 32 years of her life were spent in horrendous grief for my brother, but actually, she remarried a man that she adored, in 2001, so things weren't all bad. I would say that 10 years of her life were miserable, out of 74. That's not too terribly bad. Honestly, though, I was very, very close to my mom. I was with her, right next to her, when she died. I watched her very last breath. I screamed into her legs, holding her. I held her hands, before, during, after. I know how to set up shop in a hospital room, people! I OWNED that space, and WAILED when she died...and guess what? I get to do that. Yes, I upset the nurses, but they helped me with that.

My mother NEVER wanted anyone to feel imposed upon, and she was the most courageous woman I have ever known. I will post more about her later, but I think it is a tribute to her to put on my stiff upper lip. Not going to cry right now, and I have a good feeling in my heart. This was not too painful....It has been one year and two months. Mom, I miss you every single day.



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