For those of you who don't know, my mom passed away when I was almost fifteen. She had kidney failure fairly young (the irony being she was a nurse; she especially loved working in pediatrics) and was on renal dialysis for a number of years while we lived in Nova Scotia. We later moved to Alberta where she could get better care and she went on peritineal dialysis, which afforded her much more freedom.
Her name was Anne Marie. She was a firecracker. All of 4-foot-nothing, but the personality of a giant. In her day she was a real hot tamale! No wonder my dad married her! Brains and beauty. She'd laugh if she saw me writing that.
As a mother I couldn't have asked for a better role model. Her courage and strength, and ability to maintain a sense of humour through it all was, and is, unparalleled. And no matter how difficult life got for her she always managed to notice when someone had it worse, and felt emmensely for them. Feeling sorry for herself was not an option.
She was known to crash a party, only to liven it up, and once, when she was nursing she stood on a chair to tell off a much taller nurse who was giving her a hard time. And she could put my 6 foot 4 inch 230 pound father in his place, when he was being an ass, like no one else could.
She had the ability to inadvertantly stop all conversation so everyone could hear her tell a joke. She was the queen of telling jokes. Even cheesy jokes were hilarious coming from her.
She told me that she often thought she would have made a good actress. One of those childhood dreams I suspect she had that went unfulfilled. And one of the reasons I don't shy away from opportunity myself.
Over the years the numerous medications she had been taking took a toll on her body. She suffered from hearing loss, and eventually, paralysis. She had been lying on the sofa reading one morning when her hands and feet started getting tingly. By lunchtime she was paralysed from the neck down. I can't begin to imagine how frightening that was for her. It was frightening enough for me and my dad.
She worked very hard to regain mobility, and eventually, after a LOT of hard work, was mobile enough to drive a car again. I remember her telling me how easy it was to take the little things for granted, like turning on a light, or going to the bathroom unaided.
My mom felt terrible that I "missed out" on so many things in my early teen years to care for her, like school dances, and hanging out with my friends. My dad worked shift work, and because of the paralysis, one of us had to be home at all times to help with Mom's dialysis and provide general care. But I am SO grateful for those times we spent together. And I think it was a blessing in disguise because it meant I got to have some real quality time with my mom that I may not have otherwise had given her short life.
I woke the other morning and realised that I have now lived more of my life without her physical presence than with. And it stung. For a moment. My mom has given me enough to last several lifetimes over, and for that I am eternally blessed. Like my mom I will continue to be thankful for what life has given me, good or bad. It makes me who I am, much like it made her the wonderful woman she was.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I will love you forever.
Labels: Ben
So chatty, in fact, that he took to waking in the night for conversation. Fortunately this only lasted a few nights. He didn't wake last night, and knock wood, he hopefully won't wake tonight. Fortunately he'll happily chat with himself after I go in and get him comfortable again.
And here's Ben just looking like his cute self:
