Sitting in the chair next to Mom, I watched and listened as she breathed softly. Her face is so thin now, not like when she was up and on her feet. Even after taking care of Dad for many years as he suffered with Parkinson’s disease, she remained healthy and active.
Mom was always going — to church; with family and friends; outside to work in her flowerbeds! God gave her life and she enjoyed a full one. Married for fifty-eight years, mother to eleven children, grandmother and great-grandmother to many more, she always had charity and showed hospitality to all. She taught us what love really is.
Tears stream down my face as I recall moments I’ve cherished with her, trying to focus on the joy of the life He gave us. It’s a hard task, because Mom hasn’t acknowledged my existence in over a month, and I choke back the tears, not feeling joy at all. I miss her laughter.
I remember the day my son Russell was born, she was there helping bring new life into this world. Her love shines throughout my life. When my daughter Mirandy arrived, nothing could keep her out of the newborn nursery, even the nurse on duty. She loved each grandchild and great-grandchild even before they were here!
When my daughter’s firstborn arrived, Mom was excited to make the trip, although a long one. We invited her sister, Nonie. Both were about eighty years old, neither got around easily. My friend Trish and I were ready, albeit a little nervous about their comfort. The journey would be worth it, just exhausting. After praying, we were on the way!
Grandma Dot was ready to meet Ashley and be with Mirandy. Across the Midwest we drove, laughing and playing road games while stuffed inside Mom’s little white car! At the motel after arriving at our destination, we giggled like school girls, playing with Ashley and her gifts! Four generations of females were blessed those days in that room we shared. Our love grew stronger for each other.
On the trip home, time at Precious Moments became another precious memory. Afterwards, a fast food picnic lunch at a city park, and we were on the way to see where Dad’s maternal grandparents were buried.
Mom misses her mother, too. She is ready to go Home! It’s hard to give her up, but I have wonderful memories. Soon she will be with her Heavenly Father.
I wipe my face with an unscented white tissue, the kind she has always used. I think of her life, plain and simple, a God-fearing woman. I cry because I miss her, even though she is next to me. I wish she would wake up, call my name — be aware of me.
On a side note, my sister and I look alike. Both Mom and Dad have called me Vicki most of my life!
I’m thinking, “Say hello! Fuss at me! Call me Vicki!”
I dry my tears. She’s awake.
Hope arises! She opens her eyes and says, “Vicki?”
“It’s Evelyn, Mom!”