Things Learned

Our table was in the corner of the kitchen.  The table was pushed up against the wall.  At the end of the table was her chair.  She had some shelves near her chair.  Her bible, prayer book, holy cards and cigerettes where on these shelves.  She said that I was the best coffee maker.  I loved making her coffee.  She drank it black.  She loved eating green bananas and the peels of oranges.  She devoured books; she finished a couple a week.  She did not cook except for Christmas fudge that she passed out to the parish, lamb cake that she made for each kids reconciliation, gingerbread cake, and cookies with nuts in them.  Eating cookies growing up does not hold a happy place for me.  After taking out all the nuts, not much was left.  She learned to drive when I was in fifth grade and my dad made her a licence cake to celebrate.  She was a horrible driver.  Her domestic habits where strange.  She cleaned with straight bleach.  Her fingers cracked and the bleach did not help.  She was complicated.  She loved Vogue magazine (for the fashion).  She never wore makup but got obsessed with Mary Kay discount lipstick.  We threw away so many tubes of lipstick after she passed away.  Passing away is a strange thing to observe.  It is easy to tell when someone has gone.  It was Christmas Eve and we knew that mom had no idea what day it was.  She hated being the center of attention.  She did not like having anyone making a fuss over her. Christmas Eve is a day of anticipation.  We knew that when they pulled her of the ventilator she would not make it.  But I did hope. I was wrong. I wanted that miracle to happen.  It did not.  She was in so much pain.  So young, so beautiful, so amazing in so many ways.  Gone.  I cried.  Partly because she was home.  Partly because she no longer suffered.  Partly because I desperately wanted  her to come back.  She was still.  Her chest no longer heaved.  I remember going to see mom at the hospital.  One time I went to see her and when I turned to go in her room, she was not there.  Devastation hit.  The nurse rushed to me told me that they had moved her.  Big sigh of relief.  She was drugged while on the vent.  Once she woke up alert and pulled the tube out of her throat.  That was the last time that happened.  They kept her heavily medicated and strapped her hands down.  Mom was a fighter.  I was proud of her for pulling it out, and I scolded her at the same time.  She had a smile that she gave when she knew she was being a bad girl.  I loved that smile.  I was pregnant when mom was in hospital.  Mom had shingles.  The Doc in the ICU thought that it would be best if I stayed away for awhile.  He did not want me to get shingles because it could be dangerous for the baby.  Life growing in me.  The one that gave me life was dying and I could not see her.  Mom was rarley aware of what was going on.  She was often asleep.  When she had wake times we gathered around her so that she new she was not alone.  We never wanted her to wake up without one of us there.  Often she thought she was in the hospital because she had had a baby and would ask for her baby.  She sometimes saw things in the corner of the room.  Other times she was aware of her great discomfort and the thirst she felt.  We would swab her mouth out and try to relieve a little of her thirst.  There where posters on the wall of her grandkids.  We all watched the monitor.   I told my  OB what the hospital Doctor had said me about my mom shingles.  He said that it would be fine to see my mom.  I left quickly and felt so relieved that I could see her and hold her hand.  When I got there no one else was in the room.  This was rare.  I took her hand and her eyes instantly locked on my mine.  It was a gift.  One the biggest that I have ever received.  She knew who I was and she was not confused at all.  The way she looked at me  melted me instantly, so much love, so much affection swept over me and she looked so peaceful, so relieved to see me.  She missed me too.   I treasure those moments.  My mom grew up catholic.  There are lots of varieties in the catholic church.  My mom had a hard view of things.  We talked about God and the Bible so I was blessed to have many good conversations with her.  Jason led a bible study on Matthew with her.  I remember talking to her once about heaven.  She thought that she would spend a whole lot of time in purgatory.  She told me that you where never to be sure of your salvation.  That this confidence was a sign that you where not saved.  We talked about grace.  And I do think that she ended up agreeing with me.  Working things in and working other things out though takes time.  And we often go to default mode when things are hard.  It was nearing the end of her life.  We all new that the day would come. 6 months on life-support is a long time.  June to December.  Those where some of the longest months of my life.  I came to visit her and she was alone again.  I touched her and she opened her eyes.  She looked so scared.  Fear in a dying body is sad.  "Mom, are you scared?", she nodded her head yes.  "Mom, do you love Jesus?", she nodded her head yes.  "Then you do not have to fear." Her face relaxed and her eyes closed.  She woke up a couple days later ready to go home, ready to see Him face to face.  And I have the gift of knowing that God gave her rest even before she died.  That He made His grace known to her in a way that gave her the strength to walk through the shadow of death.