She taught me how to live, how to be the woman I am today, but she never taught me how to live without her.
I knew “other people’s” parents die. But not mine! This larger-than-life matriarch of our family was ALWAYS on our side, in our corner, cheering us on from the sidelines, taking absolutely no credit for herself, allowing us to shine brighter than the sun. In retrospect, we did not give this divine woman the admiration she deserved. She was my best friend, prayer warrior, cheerleader, honest to a fault, encourager, my first love, my comforter, my safety net. As long as she was by my side there was nothing I could not do. Oh, how I must have broken her heart numerous times, and I dare not allow myself the painful realization of the tears she surely cried over me. Our family home magically became decorated for Autumn, Fall, Thanksgiving and the stockings were always hung by the chimney with care. Until I was 50yrs old Santa continued to fill my stocking. I was raised by a God fearing Christian Mother who taught us to never look down on others. When I came to here worried or scared her answer was ALWAYS the same. “You are a child of the King! He knows the numbers of hair on your hair. I,as your Mother,do not know that!”.She all too gladly stepped in and helped me raise my only child when I was too sick to do so, taking her to church and introducing her to God, just as she’d done for me all those years ago. She told my daughter “You got the best years of my life and I wouldn’t change it for a minute”. I knew last Thanksgiving when she tried to show me how to make her famous holiday dressing that it wouldn’t be long. I burned each holiday from last year into my heart, memory and mind. Something deep inside me knew “This is the last time”. Holding back tears I watched every move this wonderful woman made. My soul screamed “Burn this into your heart. There will not be another one”. And at the time I wanted so badly to be wrong. I wasn’t. There will be no more festive holidays, birthday banners, Christmas trees, stockings hung. Other people’s parents die. Not mine. As I walked into the nursing facility, this larger than life woman, who gave me life, looks at me blankly and says “Are you a nurse or a theripist?”. I run to the bathroom to throw up. “GOD PLEASE NO!!”. On May 2nd, 2019 at 5:10pm my Mom took her last breath on Earth, which she always told me would be her first in Heaven. I am now muddling my way through this thing called “life” as a motherless daughter. There will be no decorations that magically fill the house, no stockings that are somehow filled on Christmas Eve, I miss her lima beans and yes, I should have paid more attention on how to make her dressing. I catch a glimpse of her occassionally when I look in the mirror. “Mama, I have your hands and your voice. I promise I’ll do something good with them”. “I know you will” were her last words to me. She taught me how to live, she just never taught me how to live without her……..or was I not paying attention, assuming “Not my Mama”.