My mom began home hospice care this past week for her emphysema. She requested that she have a chance to be with all of her children while she is still feeling pretty well and lucid. So Ben and I flew to Colorado last Wednesday--Ted and Sam had already booked a big trip to NYC for the same weekend. I suppose I could tell you about meeting with the amazing hospice nurse or the dizzying daily menu of meds: the Atavan, the Decadron, the Mucinexm or I could be catty about the ashtrays scattered about or the tanks of oxygen standing like soldiers or share the jokes about urns and ashes . . . but I think I want to keep this relatively focused since my emotions are swirling around faster than sparrows. So I am going to tell you about the little celebration that my mother hosted.

That's right, she picked Saturday afternoon in their back yard as the time and the place to gather with her children and my father.  We only knew she wanted to give us each a little something. So we gathered in a circle of sorts, some sipping beer, others sipping coffee. My mother sat there, sitting up straight -- I knew right away she had put a lot of thought into this and it was incredibly important that she got to do it on her own terms and that she wasn't rushed. We all sat there silent. A little nervous, a little unsure of what exactly to expect. And then my mother began to spreak, a little shakily, with tears in her eyes but she spoke with strength and confidence in her voice. In so many words she told us all that being a mother has been the most precious, sacred, meaningful part of her entire life. She then told each child what she respected and revered in them and then shared details of the unique connection she has to each of us. 

It was amazing. I am so proud of my mother and thrilled that she was able to share all this with us. And it's certainly not lost on me how insanely lucky that all of us had this glorious chance on a summer day to sit and listen and know what is in her heart. What an enormous blessing in the middle of something so sad and painful.

She loves giving gifts, my mom, and she puts a lot of thought and sometimes even humor into her gifting. And so on Saturday afternoon she gave each of us a few things that she wanted us to have.

Each of us received one of her fetish necklaces. She and my father have always loved New Mexico and each of these necklaces my father bought for her. She wanted to share the joy that my father gave her on their trips to Taos, Santa Fe, Farmington and beyond. Sylvia recevied one with lots of bears on it, my mother said, because she is so strong and wise.

She then gave us each a box.

This is the box she gave my brother, those are her father's dog tags from when he served in the South Pacific.

She gave this big jade heart to my sister Jennifer, which is so right because my sis has such an enormous heart. It had been my grandma Ruthie's.

And this is one of the things I received.

It was my Great-Grandmother Ida's. I never met her, I never even met her son, my Grandfather Richard. But now I have a connection to her. This thing I can hold in my hand, I can clutch it and I will always remember my mother and the day in the back yard where she shared so much beauty and strength and joy. And here's what's so magical about this. For Mother's Day I had hinted to Ted that I would really like an old-fashioned locket so that I could put a picture of each of my boys in it. He looked and looked and couldn't find one that was quite right. This is a locket. And there were no pictures in it. It is waiting for them to be filled.

That will happen soon enough. For now, my heart is full.

Comments

[fran]

bonnie

thank you for this...

franny