Tribute to Mom

Two weeks ago today, I sat by my Mom’s side as she left this earth for her heavenly home. As you can imagine, right after it happened, I was very emotional and close to tears. I hadn’t slept in two nights and was totally exhausted. All I wanted to do was curl up in a little ball and cry. But, I knew I had to hold it together. Since we’d already lost our dad, I was now the "elder"of the family. I felt like I had to set the example, so to speak. But finally, after taking care of all the details of the day, I made it home, sat down on my back porch, and had myself a little "pity party," as my Mom would say.

It wasn't long, however, before my emotions changed from sadness to joy. Yes, of course I was still sad that she was gone; but at the same time, I can tell you with utter amazement that, once my head had cleared and I had gotten some much needed rest, I realized that her passing was a most joyous experience! I can say that because, before she left, Mom gave me, my brothers, and all of her family and friends a wonderful gift ... she left us with the assurance that she was happy, totally at peace, and ready to go "home."

Mom was a special lady. I cherish the time we had together, especially the last few weeks while I was living there and taking care of her. She will be missed my me and my brothers, our spouses, and her grandson, her two sisters and their families, and many other cherished friends and family members. But we all know where she'll be, she made it clear each and every day. And, one day we will meet again in Heaven … what a wonderful reunion that will be!

In memory of Mom, I'd like to share a couple of her "stories." Mom loved writing down her experiences and sharing them with her friends. The following stories were two of her favorites and she asked me to share them at her funeral (which I did). The first story shows her humorous side, while the second highlights her compassion for others. They were both written while she was volunteering at a local Hospice facility. I hope you enjoy them!

Crazy Hair Day

"Last week we had Crazy Hair Day at Hospice. All the Nurses had sprayed color and curled their hair. They asked me to join in. Using small rubber bands, they took little bunches of my hair, all over my head, and sprayed them shocking pink and orange. We had fun with it at the nurses station, then I forgot about it and went on the floor. I saw on my chart that we had a patient that was 101 years old. Now, I had never had a patient that age, so I was quick to want to go into the room. As I entered, I smiled and began to talk to him, but noticed that he was looking at me rather strangely. I'm thinking to myself … hey, I don't even appeal to a 101 year old man! Then it dawns on me … he is looking at my shocking pink and orange hair pulled up in little bunches with rubber bands. And, I figure he's thinking … here I am … dying at Hospice, and they send me a Wild Woman! Now, we take our jobs very serious at Hospice, but some days, we just need a little fun!"

Compassion Has No Color

"I was taking ice and water to a patient's room and met the patient's son. He told me that he was 31 years old and that the patient was his mother. Immediately, I sensed that he needed to talk to someone, so I sat down and listened as he poured out his heart to me about the love he felt for his mom. He showed me pictures of her (she was only 54) and told me that she had been so pretty until about month ago and that the illness had quickly stolen the mother that he knew. He said he was coming into acceptance that it was time for his mom to go. I told him to hold all the good thoughts and times that he has shared with his mom and to be the kind of son that would make her proud. I shared with him that my own sons had faced the death of their father at about the same age that he was. As I got up to leave, he opened his arms wide and gave me a hug and said, "I needed this talk so very much, thank you for listening" He told me to go home and tell my children that he cared that they had lost their dad, and that I had brought him comfort in his mom's last days. The young man was black, I am white … Compassion has no color."