Waiting

I was recently reminded of when my mother had the stroke that eventually took her life.  The anniversary of her death, July 30th to be exact, thirteen years ago has just passed.  I was watching the movie “The Descendants.”  In this movie the family sits in the hospital room keeping the mom/wife company while waiting for her to die and saying their goodbyes.  This is a sad part of the movie but the plot is more complicated.

The act of waiting for a loved one to die is a miserable yet honorable privilege.  When my own mother was in the hospital dying we did the same thing.  Members of our family, mostly myself and sisters and her grandchildren one or more of us were always there with her.  We didn’t want her to be alone.  And it has taken me thirteen years to realize what a privilege it was to not only help take care of her in her last few years but especially to be with her those last days.  I was alway glad she was my mother even when we didn’t get along in my teenage years.  I knew she was a good mom and a nicer mom than most others I knew.

She took such good care of us growing up and loved her daughters intensely.  What a gift that was, to be able to take care of her.  To this day when I am sick or under the weather I remember all the little extra things she used to do when we were younger and sick.  I have tried over the years to take as good a care of my own children whenever they have been sick.

Madison told me on a few occasions when she was sick that she was sorry to be a burden.  She was never a burden.  When you love someone taking care of them is just what you do.  She could see that at times I was exhausted but she was never a burden.  I love taking cake of my kids and even though Derric and Dallas are adults when they need me I’m there for them. Now that Madison is gone I feel like I am taking care of her memory.  I’m making sure that she isn’t forgotten and that those who didn’t know her personally can maybe get to know her through me.  It may seem that I wear rose colored glasses where Madison is concerned but I really don’t.  She had her moody cranky side too.  If you were sick as often as she was you would be too.  

After we lost Madison I felt as if I were waiting to die.  I would sit on my sofa and stare at the television, not watching but staring.  Part of me wanted to die too.  I felt useless, like a failure as a mother.  What good could I possibly be to my other children?  I didn’t see the signs that led to Madison’s death, I told myself that I didn’t deserve to be here.  I felt like I was sleepwalking through my life.  The fact that my other kids did indeed still need me I believe is what woke me up.   I am awake and we are moving forward, making plans and yes occasionally having a little fun.  I am no longer waiting to die but trying to live!