By Michael Swanger
The night before Mom died in hospice, Dad and I were hanging on her every word as she steered us down memory lane. I will never forget the sparkle in her blue eyes as she spoke about the good times and the people that she loved.
Our conversation was a miraculous gift that the doctors in the hospital’s critical care unit previously told us we had less than a 10 percent chance of receiving while Mom was in their care, as she had been unconscious and on life support for nearly a week. True to form, Mom rallied to beat the odds.
The ray of light in what seemed to be a never ending storm for 17 days in February was not lost on any of us. We let nothing go unsaid.
The next day, as twilight fell, I held Mom’s hand as she drew her last breath. She was 70 years old when she completed her life’s journey.
Mom always encouraged me to write, but there are not enough column inches for me to describe my love and gratitude for her. Besides, the pain is too raw. What’s more, to know Mom is to know that she would not want me to “waste” ink and paper writing about her.
All I can tell you, for now, is that Mom’s life was a tapestry of hues … a wondrous woven magic in bits of blue and gold, to paraphrase the title track from one of her favorite albums. She was kind, thoughtful, selfless and caring. Her faith, strength and evolved sense of humor helped her manage life’s challenges, including the cancer for which she was undergoing chemotherapy treatments during her final months.
Before and after she retired from working, she was an active volunteer. She placed the needs of others above her own.
She enjoyed spending time with her friends and celebrated their birthdays and special events by sending them a greeting card, or sharing a meal, or both.
Mom’s greatest joy was doting on her small family. She especially enjoyed celebrating holidays and milestones with us. Such occasions often included her signature dishes and desserts. She rarely missed a ballgame, concert, or school event during my youth, or those that later included her only grandchild.
Her love for us was boundless. Her marriage to Dad was inspiring; she embraced my wife like a daughter; our son was the light of her life; and to me, she was the world’s greatest mother. To say that we miss her is a profound understatement of the obvious.
When Mom died, we not only lost a beloved member of our family, but a valuable source of information. Over the years, I asked her questions about the history of our family and our community. Still, I wish that I would have asked her more.
Mortality reminds us what matters most in life. So, too, do major events like the coronavirus disease 2019 (COVID-19) pandemic that has disrupted all of our lives.
If we are still under quarantine by the time you read this and your children are in need of a constructive way to pass the time at home, talk to them about your family’s history and show them pictures. Better yet, remind them to call their grandparents if they are fortunate enough to still have them in their lives. Make it the “new norm.”
With Memorial Day around the corner, we are reminded that time is not just a clock. Cherish your family and your health. Use your time at home wisely by writing your family’s history, or assembling a pictorial history. Create a story that you can share with them. The time is now. If you don’t do it, who will?
As Mom would say, “none of us are guaranteed tomorrow.”
Thank you for your wisdom, Mom.
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