My Mama

[naturegeek]

My mom died last Friday. She was 89 - would have turned 90 in May. She had Alzheimer's, and I've watched her slow decline for the last 10 years until nothing much was left, so it was time. I've been mourning her loss incrementally, and yet when this final loss came, it surprised me that I could still feel grief, and not just relief. I will miss her.

My mom was not a "mom" - she was "Mama." I didn't know any other kids growing up in southern California that called their mothers "Mama." I think it was a mid-western or southern thing - both my parents were from Missouri, and they were Mama and Daddy, and so were their parents. She was a wonderful Mama! She showed her love through the loving care she took of all of us - tasty meals three times a day - I walked home for lunch from elementary school and never started my day without a tasty hot breakfast. She sewed many of my clothes, too - she was very good, and I remember tailored and lined jackets, for example. The house was always clean - not a clean that you couldn't live in like my aunt's house where everything was covered in plastic, but a clean like it somehow never got dirty, no matter how comfortably we lived. I remember the smell of clean sheets from the clothesline - we had a dryer, but she always hung out clothes, and I still love the way line dried clothes feel and smell, and I love seeing clotheslines with sheets waving in the breeze. Mama used to iron sheets, handkerchiefs, and just about everything. I like the smell of that, too - she'd sprinkle them with water, iron and fold them while I watched. She was a gentle, beautiful person who was always there.

I used to be embarrassed that I called her "Mama" when all the other kids had moms or mothers. But that's what she was, and now I realize how lucky I was to have a Mama! My best friend from 5th grade through high school when she moved away used to come and ask my mom for advice about boys. I was afraid to talk to boys, so I didn't need any advice, but Lisa did. I never talked with my mom much about things like that, that I recall, anyway, except I do remember asking her, "Mama, how do you know if you've met 'the ONE'?" Her deceptively wise answer was, "you just know." For many years I thought that was such a foolish thing to say - I had lots of boyfriends and as many doubts. I was engaged and finally got married more in an attitude of "fish or cut bait" than any real certainty. I was divorced two years later. Maybe it's age/maturity/where I am in life, but when I met Devin, finally, I "just knew." Simple as that. I knew he was "the ONE." Without doubts or reservations. And he is. It just took a while to find him. Now I realize that my mom was right... and I should have listened, and when I didn't "just know" I should have trusted that it wasn't right.

My mom was married to my dad for over 50 years. They got married when she was 18 and he was 19, had my two sisters fairly soon, and then adopted two older nieces when my mom's sister died. My dad went off to World War II, and my mom lived with her girls with his mother. After the war, they moved to California, where my dad became a fireman and they bought a house in Orange County, back when the night air still smelled like orange blossoms and Eucalyptus. After my oldest sister was married and the next oldest was in high school, I came along - surprise! My dad never stopped chasing my mom - I remember him sneaking up behind her when she was cooking and grabbing her and she would swat at him with the spatula and say, "Oh Gene!" She pretended she wanted him to stop, but we always knew she didn't mean it. I should have listened to a woman like that's advice on love!

She loved music - I used to love listening to the country music ballads that would play on KLAC Country on the AM radio in the kitchen - all about phantom truckers and mine heros and tragedies... such wonderful stories! She took me to my first concert - we went to see John Hartford, who I still adore, at the local college. She taught me my first "song" on the guitar - a little instrumental she called "Over the Waves" which I still play to soothe myself. One of the main ways I could connect with her in her last years was through music. I would always sing to her, and she would sing along and remember all the words of songs, until near the end, but even then, she'd still smile and tap her foot and hold my hand and swing it back and forth to the music. "You Are My Sunshine" was a favorite, and she really did bring the sunshine with her smile.

She read voraciously and took me to the library with her about once a week since I can remember, and we'd both come home with stacks of books, so I can credit her with my literacy. She tended to like gothic novels, and I read horse stories. Pure escapism, and pure joy.

She loved beauty - especially nature's beauty. We used to go camping and hiking a lot when I was growing up. There are lots of mountains around southern California with great hiking trails for easy day trips. I have a very vivid memory of my mom on one of those hikes, up in the San Jacinto Mountains. I remember two things about that hike - one was a valley of ferns that the trail dipped through, and the other was catching up to my mom, resting on a boulder looking out on a view of the canyon below. I sat next to her to catch my breath as we admired the view, and she started singing:

Oh Lord my God, when I in awesome wonder,
consider all the worlds thy hands have made.
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, my savior God to thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, my savior God to thee,
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

We will sing that song at her funeral on Saturday.

I will miss my sweet Mama.

[serenity]

yes i was just thinking how lucky i am to have found you all. safe space indeed. I feel like my secret feelings and vulnerable bits are safe with ma gerfriends, and i'm glad you feel the same. Yes i agree that the 8months is still short in grieving time. besides we all grieve in our own time and way, and there just is not rushing it. I'm glad you shared here mel. I hadn't realized you were still feeling such pangs, but of course that makes total sense! and i love to see you dancing in the background!

NG, that makes sense about your mum vs your dad. It's extra hard when stuff feels unfinished i guess. but i am happy to hear what a great relationship you had with him. a paramedic eh? wow, but that makes sense, you are such a connected people person, that he would be too.

keep sharing!!! we're here. we're listening :) i feel much love for you all--is that too mushy to say?

[Deb S]

Softer sorry indeed. The 3 wordsmiths together in one spot. The photos are great. Look at that little flapper. They look so cut. I can see you in you grandmother Mel. And 8 months is nuthin in grieving time, is it? I'm glad you and sis felt good after the funeral, Maggs.

[Evangeline]

I'm glad you had a great funeral for her too NG.

Such beautiful sharing going on this thread. I love the pics of your Grandma and Grampa, Mel. So nice to hear about those who were so in love! I feel like I hear too much about the other kind of marriages sometimes.

And I too, wish for you a "softer sorrow" as time goes by Mel. (I love that term, softer sorrow.)

[Mel]

NG, can't wait to see the pictures you find now that your stuff is where you are! Thanks for your kind words. I'm glad you had a great funeral, and thanks again for sharing with us. I think we all feel a little safe here, and I'm afraid the nerdning has spoiled me for the interweb, there's no place like home!

[naturegeek]

Oh that is wonderful - thanks so much for sharing! Yes - it is good to have a community of friends with whom we can share these memories, and the bittersweet joys and sorrows of life. I love the photo of them dancing - my mom and dad discovered dancing later in their lives - they got into fiddle music and dancing and were so cute when they danced! Now that I have the photo albums out of storage, I will have to go through and find some great shots to share.

Losing my mom was not at all as hard as losing my dad, because my dad left at least 10 years too early. I still had stuff I wanted to do with him! My mom had the blessing of living out the fullness of her years until it was truly time to go. And of course, grief at the final parting is still sharp, but not nearly so painful as with my dad. He was only 79, and he was in great shape - walked twice a day, active... none of us thought he would not make it when he had a heart attack, but I guess he waited a bit too long to go in. He should have known better - he was a paramedic, for gosh sakes! He'd been a Fireman for over 20 years, rescuing people, and should have known it was a heart attack. Of course, they do say one of the symptoms of heart attack is denial... he was in the hospital for 70 days before he finally died, all hooked up to machines, just how he never wanted to go. My mom was able to leave gracefully, had been on hospice for the past year, and the only thing they had her hooked up to was morphine to make her final moments more peaceful (and maybe oxygen, but not a tube or breathing machine). She slept longer and longer until we couldn't wake her up, and then it was only a few days of peaceful rest before she went. She eased out. A good way to go, I think.

I think, not only the fact that she lived her full life, but also that she had a "good death" helps, and also, we gave her a great funeral. Both my sister and I agreed we felt good afterwards, and actually happy the next day, which was certainly different than my dad's death. I still grieve my dad, and although I will miss my mom, I don't feel like I was cheated like I do with my dad, so it's a softer sorrow.

I guess each death is as different as each life.

Mel, may your sorrow soften with time, and your memories only get sweeter. And Keeley - thank you for your kind words - all of you have said such wonderful things that has also helped my process of saying goodbye and feeling like I can share appropriately here - you guys are all awesome! (duh! We're NERDFIGHTERS - we are MADE of awesome!) :)

[Mel]

Oh, and here's to peeing your pants from laughing - one of life's greatest perks. Laughing until your jaw hinge hurts. I like to play those recordings in my head when I'm feeling sad or mopey.
Thank goodness for the laughing gene and cool internet friends.

[Mel]

I hope you post more for us about your Mama, I love to learn about lovely people. I hope I'n not hijacking your thread but you made me want to share.

So, I'm still dealing with my Dad dying, and it's been 8 months, but his birthday is today and its coming up on the anniversary of the last time I saw him on Spring Break and hugged him goodbye, and I'm still not done being a mess about not having him around to talk to. But reading naturegeek's thread and having her and the gang around to offer advice and sympathy makes me feel better. So does remembering all the others, gone but not forgotten, communal grieving, internet style. I found this amazing momcompany, the comfortstore.net that sells very nice rememberences like this:

I loved that the trees were among my Dad's favorite. I got one for mom and sis and me. Plus we're planting redbuds with some of his pretty polished rocks this weekend in DE and IL, so I got a nice memorial plaque for the one going in the labyrinth garden back east.

I also thought I'd share a few pics of my grandma, Mom Francis dancing, plus a picture from before Alzheimers, and one from their younger days. They loved each other to death. Since teens, they were so in love. They died within weeks of each other.

If video were invented, I'd know what Motown song they are dancing to. See my pants in the background - maybe 1970? I was such a nerd, and I never danced, just watched. Happy times, bittersweet.

Anyway, this is my little shrine. My rememberence. Love lives on. I hope we all dance.

[kdot (keeley)]

Oh NG........ I am so sorry. I'm also sorry i am only resurfacing now; I'm so sorry that I missed saying I'm sorry earlier. And sending hugs earlier.

(as i inhale... breathe out... wipe away tears and resist all temptation to go and listen to I Hope You Dance. I know the song, crier that I am, and I so agree with that sentiment Deb. Well said, as usual.)

All the nerds have said so many wonderful things that I agree with. What you wrote was amazing; thanks so much for sharing it. So nicely, thoughtfully discriptive; a real tribute to your mama! She sounded amazing, and I'm so glad she gave us such a fantastic YOU. (And wow - the neighbours sound awesome! I can relate :)

Looking forward to catching up everything,
Hope you are well,
xo

k

[naturegeek]

Thank you! :)

[serenity]

"You know what makes me happy that would have made me roll my eyes and groan in my earlier, less enlightened years? Thinking that I am like her. I am SO proud to think that I may take after such a lovely and wonderful woman, who danced her way through life, and laughed till she peed her pants on many occasions! "

you know i was thinking just that as i read your memories, how alike i thought you were. and such wonderful memories, i'm so so so glad you shared, and happy too that the funeral was a positive experience for you.

not knowing your mama, i can't say to much about her, although she surely does sound amazing. that said, i do feel a great sense of gratitude to her, for having you, her little surprise, and raising you to be such an amazing person. THANKS MAMA!!!