A Mother’s Love
It has been a while since I spoke to you last. I have heard your voice since then, but I am missing my mama. The mama who taught me right from wrong; the mama who taught me how to love with my heart instead of my head. The mama who taught me that knowledge and passion have no limits and that no matter what happens, family will always raise us up when we are down.
For the last week, I have been remembering your lesson of family. During this (what seems like) impossible circumstance, my first instinct was to surround myself with family no matter where they came from. Natalie, Trysh, and DJ came from Rio Rancho, Dawn, Lexi, and April came from Las Cruces. Aunt Sheryl came from Texas. Catherine got here tonight. Desi, Destiny, Alyssa, Uncle Corky, Aunt Laura, Heather, and Chris have been here every day, too. Sean and I are taking care of Gramma while we are waiting for the hospital to find you a comfortable and safe new home in Las Cruces.
I miss our lunch dates at Village Inn, clothes shopping for the hell of it, raiding bookshelves at Coas, going to Sonic for blended floats, or even just being lazy in our comfies, eating cake and watching TV. You always knew exactly how to make me feel better.
I am surrounded by family and have a huge amount of support from friends, but I feel so empty. There are still so many words of wisdom and comfort that I need to hear from you, especially now, and those words were stolen from us before they could be heard. I treasure every word that comes out of your mouth even now, even if they don’t make any sense; the fact that you still choose to share your words with me means you still know I hold some significance. I don’t want to feel forgotten.
When they tell me you are still refusing to eat, it breaks my heart that I won’t hear you say you’d rather eat pie instead. At least I know that you are still as stubborn as you always have been.
Two weeks ago, I was looking at mother of the bride dresses. I couldn’t find one that you would love because I know how you hate dresses. I was planning for you to come to Las Cruces and help me find the perfect white dress to make me feel beautiful on my big day. I never once thought I would have no choice but to send you to Las Cruces to get you settled into a nursing home instead.
Every time I think about it, I have to suppress tears through a lump in my throat. All I want is for you to see me in my wedding dress, see Ryan and I devote our love to each other in front of God and everybody. Including you. It seems like such an impossible thing to not share that moment with my mama. I know you’re still in there somewhere, but I wish I could experience you fussing over me and gushing about how proud of me you are.
I wish I would have told you more how much I appreciate you. Everything that I know about being a mom, I learned from you. I fully intend to pass on to Saydi what I have learned from you – lessons that I hold very close, never to be taken away from me. I always wanted you to know that all of my triumphs as a mother couldn’t have been possible without you; all of the obstacles I have encountered in motherhood were made smaller when you were by my side, helping me come to terms with it all.
This situation is impossibly cruel. At this moment, it is so hard to see your face but not your spirit. You’re there, but you’re not you and that seems completely ridiculous.
Alcoholism, depression, and dementia stole something from me that I will never get back. Even after their damage has been done, they continue to rob me of things you never think about losing until they’re ripped away from you with no mercy and no way to go back and try again. I have already had to get to know a new you in the last few years and I am not sure how this time will go, but please know I will never give up on you. I will be there – even if it seems like you don’t see me standing right in front of you. I will never stop loving you and I will always carry your love for me and my brother everywhere I go. I will never forget our good times, our bad times, our happy times, or our sad times. Those are memories that I will always treasure. I will remember them all for the both of us.
I am praying every minute that you find peace… that you can escape from this suffering and confusion that have barged in, uninvited and hateful. We still have a long road ahead of us, Mama, but I will be there every step of the way – loving you and missing you at the same time.
Wishing you were here,