Friday, March 30, 2012
letter to my Mother;
...16 years ago today I held your hand while you took your last breath. Part of me praying that this nightmare would end for you, part of me knowing the nightmare would be starting for me. As I left the room and headed for the parking lot it became crystal clear to me that now, as the eldest daughter, I was expected to know what to do, who to call, how to make the arrangements. In other words, I was now a grown-up. No longer would I be known as TT's daughter, I would be expected to be the keeper of all things. What you didn't know mama is that I hadn't the slightest idea how to be that person.
When my first-born-son died you were there. You were the one who talked with the doctors. You were the one who called the funeral home and made all the arrangements. You were the one who called the family to tell them of this horrible tragedy. You were the one who made sure he received the Blessing. I couldn't and until this day, sixteen years ago, I didn't realize just how hard that must have been for you. You did it without a word, without being asked, you stepped up to try and protect me. Did I ever thank-you for that?
I gathered the family, I made the calls and the arrangements and although it was not easy I insisted that you receive your Blessing. I stepped up and did it without a word, without being asked to try and protect daddy, to try and protect my siblings. It was my gift to you mom.
I look at the tulips and I think of you. I look at Maude and I see you in her eyes. I hear your laugh in my daughters voice. I see your hands when I look at my own. Your fiery red hair is turning white on my head. Your love of books is ablaze in my sons soul. Your Irish wit alive and well in your children.
The thief of time has taken you away from me but not from my memories. Those I hold dear to my heart...especially today, as you dance in heaven with my daddy and my son. Rest well mommy, I love you.