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Since we are approaching Easter weekend, I HAVE to talk about my mom.  Christmas was her favorite holiday, but Easter was the most emotional and meaningful for her.  Mel Gibson’s movie The Passion of the Christ came out a couple of years before she died, and I remember her saying she could never go see it.  Easter brought so much emotion for her anyway just in the fact that Christ sacrificed so much for her.  She said seeing him suffer visually would make her fall apart.  She couldn’t handle it.  Part of her extreme emotion might have had to do with the fact that she already knew she didn’t have years of living ahead of her.  We all knew.

Lasts and Firsts- A Loved One Lost

Anyway, I didn’t set out to talk about Easter per say, but more about the fact that the Easter mentioned above was one of her last.  We never knew for sure which holidays might not come around for her again.  She had cancer for approximately 10 years off and on before she died.  The cancer progressed fairly slowly which I am thankful for, but it also made it difficult for us  to assess the severity of her current state.  Would she bounce back once again, just as she had several times in the past? Even at the end I didn’t dare predict that she probably had only days to live.  I had been wrong before.

Lasts

Because it was impossible to predict her death, I don’t remember her last holidays as a whole.  But I remember moments associated with them.  I remember her opening an anniversary ring from my dad at Christmas, maybe a couple years before she died.  She picked it out herself and knew what she was opening, but she still shed a couple of tears.  She knew she wouldn’t have many more years of marriage with my dad.  I have that ring now and I treasure it.  I also remember her opening a pink sweat suit, another thing she had picked out herself.  This was during her last Christmas on earth, and for one who absolutely LOVED Christmas time, she wasn’t at all excited about that sweat suit.  It broke my heart, but I understand why she felt less than festive.

Her last birthday stays the freshest in my mind, probably because it was only weeks before she died.  She turned 55, so my dad had an open house for her with a huge cake that said “Speed Limit 55.”  I can still see her posing for a picture with that huge cake while many guests arrive.  She was quite weak and fragile, but enjoyed chatting with those who came to see her.  At this point, I did have a feeling this would be her last birthday.  That is probably why she had such a big turn out at her birthday open house.  Others had the same feeling.

Firsts

Just as difficult as guessing her Lasts was experiencing Firsts without her.  So many of these stick in my mind.  Easter came only a few weeks after she died.  At our family gathering, my dad read a kids’ Easter book to the children, one my mom had picked out.  How he got through that book without breaking down, I will never know.  A huge void seemed to linger among those at the gathering, and I remember being so confused as to why mom wasn’t there.  Obviously I knew she didn’t live on this earth any longer, but I couldn’t figure out where she was.  If she isn’t here with my dad, where is she?  How can she just disappear?  Her body is in the ground, but where is SHE? My grieving mind confused reality.

My first Mother’s Day without her brought tears.  All of our first birthdays without her seemed a little empty.  My son’s first day of kindergarten hurt my heart.  I knew my mom would love to experience that with us.  My mom had been excited that a bus would stop by our house to pick him up.  So every time I saw the bus pull up in front of our house, I thought of her.

After her death, the first time I visited extended family in Michigan was hard.  My aunt doted on her young grand kids, and I remember feeling extreme sadness that my kids will never have that time with my mom.  And my mom won’t have the years with her grandchildren that she longed for.  It seemed very unfair and made me a little angry that my family has been deprived of this.

Christmas of course had a gray cast to it.  My dad lit candles in memory of my mom and we talked about her for a bit before opening gifts.  One thing that helped us get through the holiday, or several things, were the young grandchildren.  We all had to keep up some level of excitement for them since they so looked forward to present opening.  I think they are what carried us adults.

Moving On

The big wound of losing my mom heals some over time but never completely. I still think of her most days, sometimes with little things like when I catch myself saying phrases just like she used to.  Always I think of her during the bigger things, like when my kids have a birthday, piano recital, band or choir concert, track meet or grandparents’ day at school.  And sometimes the really big things still bring pain along with joy, like my son’s graduation from 8th grade.  She would have been so proud of him.  He was her first and oldest grandchild, and she would have relished in this milestone.

Although her “Lasts” are over, I know there will be more “Firsts” to come, like the first grandchild’s high school graduation, college graduation, or wedding.  The fact that my mom won’t be there won’t ruin the day, but I will still feel her absence.  She is supposed to be here for all of our family’s moments, big and small.  And I know she would be if she could.

Other Related Blogs: 

Introducing My Past-A Loved One Lost

Mothering Without Mom- A Loved One Lost

My Biggest Warm Fuzzy- A Loved One Lost