5 years ago...
Five years ago on this very day I wrote my mom the below poem and read it to her as she was in the midst of giving up her fight to live and accept that she was crossing over. Her lips quivered as I read it and her eyes met mine but her body was too ill to produce tears. She moved her arm up for me to come near and she let me know in her own way she heard me. She knew why we were all hovered around her, she heard me and my brother say, it's ok mom, you can go. It was the start of the worst 24 hours of my entire life. It was February 12, 2010.
Look at the outpours of love and support you have on this blog, the cards that are overflowing out of your room, the pretty pictures the kids have sent you (so many that nurses ask if you're a teacher!), and all the flowers that have come and gone.
You are so loved.
And look at what you've been through this past month. More than many will ever endure in a lifetime. Your surgeon said you're tougher than most he's seen when faced with the challenges you were given. You are so strong.
And look at your smile. Not one of us can imagine or know how weak and sick you must feel but even on your "bad days" you still give us that smile that we all know and love. Or you point with that finger that we all know well when you're trying to tell us something. Or you roll those big brown eyes at us. You are so beautiful.
You have taught me so much in life, wisdom that I'll always carry and pass on to others. You have always, always been by my side. You are my best friend.
And now you are tired and sick. And it's ok if you want to rest your eyes, I'll be there when you open them. You deserve peace and comfort and I promise I'll give that to you in spades, however I can, just as you would do for me. I'll always be with you.
Just always remember--you are my #1 and you will always be my hero.
I love you, mommy.
Your daughter
Here we are five years forward and as I light my yahrzeit candle this evening in honor and memory of mom I can't help but be taken back to where we all were five years ago. And of course I can't help but consider where I am today - five years later. Something about five years, the number 5, the idea of a 1/2 decade, that feels big and significant - like a milestone. It feels like a chapter has completed itself in some way and a new one is beginning. It feels as painful as it did that night yet it doesn't - the cut isn't nearly as deep, the memories not nearly as piercing (though still crystal clear). The memories of spending that last night in the ICU with mom until she ultimately passed the following day were among the most horrifying moments of my life. Yet I would do nothing differently - no place I'd ever opt to be other than right by her side because she felt it, she knew it and I know without a shadow of a doubt she would've NEVER left mine. So while I would do nothing differently if given the chance (except make her miraculously recover in full health), I also wouldn't wish that experience on my worst enemy. Some things the mind is not meant to see and process but it does. And you're left to process it over and over and over again until one day you can recall it and it no longer grabs a hold of you and rips you apart. I'm proud to say through my own hard work I've processed and grown and processed and grown. And now I choose to remember what that night felt like - because mom deserves that. After all she suffered way worse than me in ways. And i also choose to remember because it shows me how far I've come. And how incredibly proud I know my mom is that I actually came out a better person as a result of this tragic experience - I actually thrived, once I healed.
So here's to you mom - the person who even when no longer living continues to bring out the absolute best in me and inspire me and motivate me in ways I am forever grateful for. Here's to living, loving and laughing as you did oh so well. Here's to a new chapter. I love you with all of my being - you will always be my #1.
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