It's About My Mom (part 2)

 The holidays have come and gone.  Mom's memorial services too.  I find that  it's hard for me to write about her...to think too hard about the recent past. I simply need to turn away from the ache in my heart and fill it with as much gratitude as I possibly can; filled with the many memories of my childhood and how my mom supported me and my siblings 

My Mom was quite pretty.  She must have known that she was attractive, but I never saw her act vain really.  In fact, one day just a few months ago, she had just been washing her face and after looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, she exclaimed to me "I just want a new face!"  That comment alarmed me.  I had never heard her say anything quite like it before.  Now that she had reached a certain maturity, she felt frustrated by age I suppose and how she thought it made her look.

Jean Troise, Jojo's mom

My dear friend Jojo's sweet mother, Jean, who is 90 years young, always complimented Mom.  They would see each other at the AARP ballroom dances on Saturday mornings and Jean would say that Mom was constantly out on the floor dancing with all the guys, that she looked so beautiful and was popular (well, so is Jean!).  When she heard that Mom had passed on, she cried; and cried again at the next dance knowing that she wouldn't see her at the dances again. 

My sister Janet and me

My sister Janet often went with Mom to the dances and while she wasn't much for dancing, she did enjoy seeing Mom doing something she loved and she made sure that Mom made it to as many of them as possible.  I must give credit to granddaughter Rebekah who asked her grandmother during her visit last November, what it was that she enjoyed doing.  Her grandmother told her about the dances that she used to attend before she was married, and Bekah passed that on to us and we started looking for someplace that she could engage in this activity.  Thanks to Bekah, her grandmother was again doing something she loved to do, but wouldn't have done if not for us "guiding" her in that direction.  The last dance that she attended, she went on her own, dressed in the cutest gauzy skirt and matching blouse, fall colors and pretty little coral earrings.  I actually helped her with her make up that day and she went confidently out the door.  Little did either of us know, that would be her last dance.  She often returned and would tell us about how much she danced, that she never sat down and that even Janet got up and danced once.  It was an activity that brought her much joy... so thank you Bekah for discovering your grandma's hidden desire and to Janet that prompted her to get up and go dance!

Bekah's breakfast with her Grandma

I miss my Mom.  I thought about calling her again today.  It's what I did since I moved to Colorado fourteen years ago. Sometimes I would go for several weeks without talking to her and she would tell my sister Janet or brother Paul, that "Nadine must be too busy."  I think back on this and other times when I didn't really act like I appreciated my Mom.  We bumped heads over small things...or rather, I dug my front legs in like a stubborn burro at the least little uninvited words of advice.  At 35 years old, I didn't want my Mom asking me if I'd brushed my teeth yet; at 40 I didn't want her pointing out that my hair was "stringing down into my eyes"... or calling my friends looking for me.  What I didn't understand was that my Mom was a mother to her core. She gave up her dreams and aspirations to be the best mother she could be.  At one time, she was on her way to an art education ~ and then later, thought about a career in fashion art.  I thought that Mom must have been disappointed that she never fullfilled those dreams, but she wasn't.  Her dream changed to one of family.  Mom became fully committed to raising her children and lovingly supporting her husband with no looking back.

Mom... in her soft voice asking "what would I do without my family" was strong in her love for God and her family...to the end of her life here on earth

Next... more on Mom, but more light hearted!

It's About My Mom (Part 1)

There's been another long gap in this "daily diary"  1) because I'm somewhat lazy,  2) because writing for me is difficult, but the biggest reason is because my sweet Mom passed on rather suddenly and quickly the end of October.  As you might imagine, I didn't feel much like writing;  I actually didn't feel much like doing anything except it sure has been easy to feel sad and cry.

Mom and her new friends

It has only been a few weeks but I feel the need to shake off sadness and sorrow.   If I know my Mom, she wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone for any reason, let alone have them suffer or be sad on her account.  Mom often would tell me during stays with her that she didn't want me to spend my "vacation" working or having to help her.  I'd have to remind her that the whole reason for my being there WAS to help her and that she was my Mom and that I should be allowed to help my own Mom.  I'd remind her that I wasn't on vacation as I had no job- that being there with her was now my "job" and with that she'd raise her eyebrows, say to me, "oh really?" and relent. 

So... during my stay in August, timed to coincide with Southern California's fig season, Mom and I did some jamm'n - fig jamming that is.  Her large fig tree has regularly produced a bounty of fruit every year, enough to fill the pantry with jars of  yummy brown-speckled pineapple-fig jam as well as several weeks of fresh figs to fig-lover friends and family.  But something was different during the 2009 fig season.  Mom didn't pick many figs and they ended up in the compost pile; she only made one small pot of jam which together we cooked and canned when I came in October.  It had gotten to be too much work picking the fruit, washing it, cutting it up and cooking, adding ingredients and stirring the sugary mass in her big kettle and then boiling the jars, filling them, sealing them... so this past summer, we worked together.  Samuel (her grandson, my nephew), would head over after school to help with the picking.   I'd wash them and Mom would sit at the table and cut up them up; I'd put enough for a double batch into the big kettle and add the rest of the ingredients, cook, stir then can.  We put up several dozen pints and a dozen or so half-pints. We'd do this while popping the freshest figs (the ones that were surely going to spoil otherwise) into our eager mouths which was an added perk of the job.

Puzzlemasters Grandma and Samuel

Another thing we worked on together were some puzzles.  This wasn't an easy thing to get Mom to do since putting together puzzles, to her, was sort of a waste of time.  I explained that it would be a good exercise for  thinking, and besides, while we were working on the puzzle together, we could talk and visit and that would be nice.  She agreed and together (with help from Sam, Paul and Janet), the puzzles were completed with lots of banter and chatter.  I think Mom really did enjoy the "waste of time."

Mom and I had our routines.  She would get up in the morning, make herself some tea and study her Bible lesson.  I would get up later and hurry out the door to my Jazzercise class calling out to her that I'd be back in 1 hour.  Almost always, when I came back, there would be a half of banana, cereal bowl with spoon beside it and a cup for coffee and a cup for juice sitting on the table for me.  Never mind that I rarely ate cereal anymore or even ate breakfast but it would be there for me regardless.  Mom never stopped being my Mom.

My beautiful Mom

Ah, my Mom.  I miss her so.  Today as I was driving down I-70 to Denver, I started to hit her number on speed dial.  I often would call her from my cell phone while driving - and yes, I use hands-free.  She'd ask me where I was this time and we'd talk for a few minutes or until I reached my destination.  She couldn't keep track of where I would be since it seems like the last several years I was always driving some long distance from home in Durango.   For that short moment, a blink, a second, my Mom was still there at the other end of the phone line... I even heard her voice...."Nadine, I was just thinking of you!" and she would let out a little laugh.  Then quickly, I realized that she wouldn't be there.  Not her voice, not her laugh ever again.  Then, later in the evening as I was driving back up to Evergreen, I did it again. I'm miffed at myself for erasing her last voice mail she left me.  It went something like, "Nadine, I'm calling because I would like to know if you will be home for supper.  Will you call me please?  This is your mother."  I'm just so mad that I erased it because right about now, it would be nice to hear her voice.

 ~ Blue eyes all around ~

Well, this is a difficult lesson for me, for anyone.  Never, ever take anything fore granted.  I just lived each day for that moment really, not thinking that I should really drink in and soak up each and every instant with my entire being.  No harsh words, no unkind or impatient words and absolutely make time for those you love and who love you.  I'm going to look you in your eyes so I can see every color in them.  I'm going to touch your hand and hug you tight.  If you need to talk about anything, I'll listen for however long you want... I'm going to do this for you, for anyone because I only did it for a too short time for her.  What I saw were the bluest, most beautiful eyes ever... they love me and I am ever grateful.

Next ~ It's About My Mom (Part 2)