My Mother’s Words…

“There are times in my life where I’m compelled to write and this is one.  Life is so short, but, in retrospect, it isn’t.  I have a story to tell you both and hopefully you will understand my desire for you to get to know me – your mother, as a person, an individual, and a very loving person.”

This was the first paragraph of a one-page family history my Mom began to write.  There is no date on the writing.  There is no salutation.  And there is no page two.

This leaves me feeling quite sad.  And it leaves me with so many questions.  Why did she feel compelled to write?  Was there something that she wanted to say that I don’t already know?  Did she think I really didn’t know her as a person – or as a loving person?  The world knew of her kindness.  There wasn’t a person on this planet who thought Mom had a mean bone in her body.  This I know.

These past few weeks have been absolutely mind-boggling.  I can’t help but think Mom would have been happy.  Could I go as far as to say that Mom would have been proud?  I believe so.  “Mom” as the loving person would have been so elated that I reconnect to my adopted twin sisters.  I know their leaving our home always grieved her.  I know that she would have done everything she could to not have had the outcome she did.  I also believe she grieved their loss from the day they left until the day Mom died.  Was “this” what she wanted me to know in her letter?  Did she feel like I judged her as someone who was not anything but?  She carried her grief with grace.  There were times I would catch her crying – alone – and I’d try to comfort her.  She would not tell me why she was crying and she would dismiss her tears.  “It’s nothing, Stacey”, she would say.  “I’m being silly”, she would offer me.

My Mother was  a very compassionate person – a very generous person.  My father said she would have given away her rectum and excreted through her armpit if she could.  What an image!  But, I know that was true.  It was always the kids first.  She sacrificed so much so I could “have”.  Of course, I didn’t learn this till late in life.  Is that what she thought I didn’t know?  Well, Mom, I know.

Mom was a smart woman.  She knew things I thought I knew.  Most certainly, of course, when I was a teenager.  I knew better – until I learned that I didn’t.  She was a savvy nurse.  If anyone had an ailment, Mom knew how to treat it.  Butter on a burn?  Tish – tosh!  Run the burn under cold water.  Hot water to thaw frozen feet?  No way – that will cause heart failure.  Wrap them in a towel and rub them gently – body heat.  Mom graduated from her nursing class with the top marks in her class.  She was a smart woman – this I know.  Is that what she thought I didn’t know?

Mom was sentimental.  Family and heritage were important.  Tradition was important.  “Don’t forget your cousins birthday, Stacey”, she would say to me as she rifled through her address book and box of cards.  She remembered everyone’s birthday, anniversary, graduation.  She even remembered to mark the day when people passed away.  Her address book was filled with important dates.  She didn’t miss a thing.  Mom – I know this of you.

I know you liked to have fun.  I know you loved children.  I know you had a beautiful singing voice.  I know you were a magnificent cook, seamstress, and now… writer.  I think I know you inside out. Well, I thought I did.

Now, I wonder.

Why did you and Dad give up the twins?  What must you have thought?  How did you feel – how did you function?

How did you recover from giving birth to a child who had already died?  I remember you told me you did.  How did you carry on?  Did you crumble inside?

How?

Why?

When?

There are so many mysteries that are left unsolved.  Oh, for a moment to be with you again – Mom.  To get to know you as a person… an individual.  Oh, how I would like to have you sit with me once more, to hug me once more, to sing to me once more.

I miss you, Mom.  I miss your, “good-night, Irene”, your laughter, your dancing.  I miss your joie de vivre.

I remain with so many questions.  But don’t think for one moment that I questioned that you were a loving person- and extraordinary individual.

 

 

 

One of the many conclusions I can make is that she was a very good writer and I would have liked to read more.

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About inmycorner

This blog began as an opportunity to tell my Dad's stories. I sat with him and the computer and together we told stories. It was a wonderful way to get to know Dad. He was 9. He and Mom had a wonderful life together and since she passed away a year and a half before him - Dad was ready to join her. I no longer tell his stories but have found stories of my own. The impetus to resume this blog was the discovery that I had stage 4 ovarian cancer. Since blogging had been so therapeutic for my dad and I to get through our grief, I felt maybe this would be a good outlet to process my situation. I also hoped it may serve as an outreach to anyone else who is facing this very ominous journey. So far, so good.
This entry was posted in acceptance, aging, appreciation, family, motherhood, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to My Mother’s Words…

  1. Laurie McCarthy says:

    Another of life’s adventures for you to explore:-)

  2. Theresa Lepage Sevigny says:

    Ty for the share, oh to have known our mothers as human beings. They were from a time where everything was hush hush, my mother took a lot of secrets with her. I was very fortunate to have had a great friendship with my mom, and being open minded was able to see her as human. She shared a lot of her past with me, her hurts her love, her disappointments. I was so lucky to have had her in my life. She passed from breast cancer, and till the end did not share but one single tear of her pain, the day before she left. She was the strongest person that I have met in my life, I think of her every day, love you mom.

    • inmycorner says:

      Oh, Therea – how lucky indeed. We have all been lucky, haven’t we? That came, however, at a cost – we “know” the pain. THey bore it and I know we can too. She was so very lucky to have a daughter like you who remembers her as such a strong woman. Blessings to you – and your Mum!

  3. Gwen says:

    Your mom was certainly a loving, caring soul (that I see reflected in you, for sure).Thank you for the reminder to cherish the “human time” with those we love.

  4. Godsfruitful says:

    So sorry for your loss. I hope as time goes by you learn some of the answers to your questions. Although your sweet mother isn’t with you anymore, sometimes God has a way of bringing answers to our questions whether through proper situations.
    Stay strong! Life is indeed short!🙏🏻❤️🎈

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