This past Saturday, on a most beautiful, breezy, sunny, heartfelt day, I attended a funeral memorial mass for a dear friend. Her best friend since the age of two said to her children during the eulogy for her, "You'll never know how much your mother loved you until you have children of your own." I'm sure words of love were and are still exchanged often in their house, but there is a greater understanding of love when we are given the gift of children. Of course all of us love and feel love from time to time, but from a parent and more specifically a mother's perspective, we are like mother elephants as Val would say. Our friend, Patti, was a mother elephant. She not only cherished her own children, but she protected and cared for other children as if they were her own. There is no greater love than a parent to a child......in most cases that is.
That statement hits home with me as I feel it with my own children as well as with Maria and Frankie. There was never a doubt in my mind that our mom loved us..... way more than herself. In this life of ours, we go through many stages of love, certainly all dependent on our age and maturity, our aspirations, our character and most importantly our relationship life experiences. When my mother passed, I thought the world had ended and how was I to continue on in this world. I had recently graduated from college, and I didn't have a strong clue as to where I wanted to head with my life. Mom's death, certainly inevitible given her health situation; yet, it was still a shock the night it happened. Mom overcame so much physical suffering in her life; it's hard to imagine how she pulled through it all. It occurred to me when I had my own children that her perseverance was all about us. She survived as long as she did for US just as Chrissy had for her own children.
We've all heard in the newspapers and on television horrific stories of mothers killing their children, and as mothers we find it incomprehensible. How could such an offense be possible knowing what WE know and feel as mothers? A father hurting his children is outrageous, but somehow a mother doing the same is unforgiveable. As parents we always want to give more and do more for our own children. That's not to say that our parents didn't try their best. I'm sure my parents were always striving to do more for us than what they were given. My mother use to say that dad would read books on child rearing which shows me he tried. When we were young, I didn't think about the sacrifices and choices my parents had to make for us. Back then I didn't understand some of their choices for "consequences", but as I raise my own.....I understand. Once I had my own children, I appreciate and love my parents even more. Many a night, I pray to my parents telling them "thank you" and to help guide me. Thanking them for their undying devotion to help me become the person that I am and hope to be. When we're young, we aren't as grateful for the roof over our heads and the food on the table. All of us have heard of the poor starving children in Africa or whatever third world country your family chose. All of us have been disciplined in some fashion, and back then we didn't like it or understand it sometimes. Watching Chrissy go through her struggles and choices brought back all those memories way back when, but in a different light. How difficult it must have been for my parents to learn of their test results, having five children, wondering if God would bring them home or keep them here to care for us.
I don't know a lot of answers to this earthly world in which we live, and perhaps it isn't for me to know but to believe and hope for better. Whether here in this physical realm or there in the heavenly world.......it's all about love, hope and faith. I know now how much you must have loved us, mom and dad, and as I parent my own children, I pray that I will give it my all. If not today, perhaps someday my children will realize how much I love them. It will not depend on how many times I say the words, " I love you" on a daily basis; rather, by example and life experiences they will learn a parent's love for their child when they have children of their own. For Maria and Frankie, you'll know one day, too, how much your mother loved you. She did it for you, too. If you don't have children of your own.....I will tell you. I will never stop telling you how much you both meant to her. She was a mother who lived for her children. She still lives for you......she lives in your hearts.
There is no greater love than a mother's love for her children
Sunday, September 5, 2010
Thursday, September 2, 2010
My Bunko Friend
It was about seven years ago or so when I met her. My little Faith was only a few months old when I was asked to join a Bunko group with a couple of friends and their friends and sisters and so on. Faith tagged along in her little baby car seat as I visited the game tables. Bunko is a mindless game which gives women the excuse to eat and drink and celebrate time from home. Let's face it, it gives us time away from being the moms and wives that we are and experience some time of women laughter. There were many welcoming Bunko guests whom I had never met, but one stands out from the moment I met her. She was the type of person who has a calming spirit, friendly, energetic, warm smile, and without a doubt, one of the most genuine, beautiful people I've ever met. She oooed and ahhhhhed over my precious little girl, and within minutes she would ask all sorts of questions about me and my family. A couple of years of knowing her through this game we played, she had developed breast cancer, and so that journey began. I believe it was around the Spring of 2007 when she first discovered her lump. Fortunately, while other doctors would have dismissed it as it didn't seem to register on her mammogram; he encouraged futher testing. With those tests, a lump was visible and her life had changed and so began the cancer journey. Within months, my sister was diagnosed with her own breast cancer in August of 2007, and we soon came to learn that the two of them had triple negative breast cancer. Without sounding too technical, simply put, triple negative was not the type of breast cancer you wanted to get. Although there is always hope; there are more limitations and less options available for this particular type. I suppose anyone given that diagnosis would certainly feel overwhelmed; yet, she still had a strong faith, hope and was an example of how we all should live our lives.
She came to know Chrissy through me as I realized the two of them had so much in common. At one time they were both hair stylists and both worked in medical offices, their husbands worked in IT, both grew up in a large family, and finally both were diagnosed with this beast......breast cancer. The commonality of their journeys was uncanny, and both came to know each other and support one another as each faced the trials and tribulations of this trip.
After Chrissy's death, she sent cards, wrote words of support to Frank and me while she herself was undergoing chemotherapy and continuous testing. She seemed to almost lick this disease, and then it would return with a vengence many times over. Chrissy and me encouraged her to start a Caringbridge site awhile back, which by the way, she wasn't thrilled about, as she was more of a private soul who would deal with it on her own terms. I respected that, but my sister was persistent, and low and behold Chrissy registered her on the wonderful site so that friends and family could support her. Chrissy knew the importance in her own journey of receiving positive notes from friends and family. At the beginning she was grateful; yet, still awkward with posting her updates. Perhaps she thought it was a burden to others, maybe she was more of a private person........I'm not sure......but she got use to it. My last contact with her was in mid July, and she was still so upbeat, even though the cancer had spread and now she was at Stage IV. Amid the trial possiblities and chemo, she stayed positive and faithful to God. She still inquired about Frank and the kids and my life. Always thinking of others before herself.....that's what I learned from her, too. I so admired her spirit and vitality, along with her warm beautiful smile. Later in August, she posted on her site about getting her kids ready for school, and I was still dumbfounded as to where she found the energy, but I know it was all about her kids and her husband. She seemed to be the active Catholic mom who was always involved and ready to help. There were so many others who knew her better than me, but I will be forever grateful for her role in my sister's life as well as mine. She encouraged and supported my sister so much. Two people, like so many others, understand what each one was living. This morning I learned that my bunko friend had taken her last breath and certainly entered God's kingdom. I have no doubt, my bunko friend, my sister's supporter is now at peace and embracing not only total joy but embracing my sister. I can only imagine their reunion as they speak of of us, those that mourn. While we still grieve, they are experiencing life beyond this one. My dear bunko friend, my sister......... I love you both!
To Patti's family and friends, I wish you all peace in the days that are before you. May God be with you in this journey......this journey of life filled with grief but also joy.
There is a time for joy.......it will come.
She came to know Chrissy through me as I realized the two of them had so much in common. At one time they were both hair stylists and both worked in medical offices, their husbands worked in IT, both grew up in a large family, and finally both were diagnosed with this beast......breast cancer. The commonality of their journeys was uncanny, and both came to know each other and support one another as each faced the trials and tribulations of this trip.
After Chrissy's death, she sent cards, wrote words of support to Frank and me while she herself was undergoing chemotherapy and continuous testing. She seemed to almost lick this disease, and then it would return with a vengence many times over. Chrissy and me encouraged her to start a Caringbridge site awhile back, which by the way, she wasn't thrilled about, as she was more of a private soul who would deal with it on her own terms. I respected that, but my sister was persistent, and low and behold Chrissy registered her on the wonderful site so that friends and family could support her. Chrissy knew the importance in her own journey of receiving positive notes from friends and family. At the beginning she was grateful; yet, still awkward with posting her updates. Perhaps she thought it was a burden to others, maybe she was more of a private person........I'm not sure......but she got use to it. My last contact with her was in mid July, and she was still so upbeat, even though the cancer had spread and now she was at Stage IV. Amid the trial possiblities and chemo, she stayed positive and faithful to God. She still inquired about Frank and the kids and my life. Always thinking of others before herself.....that's what I learned from her, too. I so admired her spirit and vitality, along with her warm beautiful smile. Later in August, she posted on her site about getting her kids ready for school, and I was still dumbfounded as to where she found the energy, but I know it was all about her kids and her husband. She seemed to be the active Catholic mom who was always involved and ready to help. There were so many others who knew her better than me, but I will be forever grateful for her role in my sister's life as well as mine. She encouraged and supported my sister so much. Two people, like so many others, understand what each one was living. This morning I learned that my bunko friend had taken her last breath and certainly entered God's kingdom. I have no doubt, my bunko friend, my sister's supporter is now at peace and embracing not only total joy but embracing my sister. I can only imagine their reunion as they speak of of us, those that mourn. While we still grieve, they are experiencing life beyond this one. My dear bunko friend, my sister......... I love you both!
To Patti's family and friends, I wish you all peace in the days that are before you. May God be with you in this journey......this journey of life filled with grief but also joy.
There is a time for joy.......it will come.
Monday, August 23, 2010
My Son, My Sister
My eldest son, Eric, turned 14 years old on Sunday! I can hardly believe where all the years have gone. It seems like yesterday when I spent 20 hours of labor waiting for him to come out, only to see him enter this world looking wide-eyed around the hospital room. His tears faded away to the sound of my voice, only wonderment beamed about his face, and he was the spitting image of my husband and still is today. It's been said to me many times, especially by strangers, cashiers, women in my church......after seeing me with my children....."These are the best years of your life, they go by so quickly, enjoy every moment." That statement is so true and is even more relevant as it relates to my life right now. I try to take each moment of time with my children and cherish it, as I've seen with my sister, time can move so quickly and then everything is so different. In a flash they grow up, and it is up to us to capture the moments.
With losses in life there comes a "knowing." Knowing comes from seeing the transformations of spirit, of body, of mind when you feel the deepest fulfillment of love, watching someone taking their last breaths, while at the same time feeling tremendous pain, sometimes all in the same minute. Eric had a very special bond with his Aunt Chrissy, and he tells me almost everyday, especially at night how much he misses her. He has always been such a wise, old soul even when he was very young, and anyone who meets him is usually surprised by his maturity and thought processes. It makes you want to be a better person when you're around him. After hearing some of his thoughts; I thank God for being the mother of such a wonderful, kind soul. He is such a blessing!
When we moved from High Ridge to Ellisville, we lived with Chrissy and Frank in between until we bought our next home. We lived with them for about 4 months, before Frankie and Maria were born, and I think Chrissy connected with Eric like he was her own. He was about 3 years old at the time, and he told Chrissy that when he grows up, he would mow their lawn. He wasn't going to charge them money; he only wanted apples!
He would chat with her often, and sometimes when I was being the "mother" to him, Chrissy would give me that look like, lay off of him. One time much later, after we moved into our house, Chrissy called me to say that she thought Eric had gotten into her cigarettes because someone had tore them up and scattered them all over their front lawn. Of course, I couldn't believe that he would do this, and at first Eric denied it, and I believed him. I even told him he wasn't going to get punished because I understood why he would have done it. Eric never lies I told myself. He emphatically denied it. I told Chrissy that Eric said it wasn't him. "Are you sure it wasn't one of the neighbor kids????" I asked. There was silence over the phone, and she hesitated but said, "Ohhh, hmmm, I don't know about that. If he says he didn't do it..(pause).....okay, well." Was I being one of those moms? I hung up the phone and it dawned on me, I was being one of those moms......a mom who didn't want to accept that their child did something wrong. I wanted Eric to tell me himself, though, that he did it. It was shortly after I put him to bed that night, and within a few minutes, he crept out of bed and into the family room where I was watching the television. With a fearful look in his eyes he said, "Mom, I have something to tell you, and you're not going to be happy. I was the one who broke the cigarettes and scattered them all over Aunt Chrissy's lawn." I wasn't happy that he had lied to me, but I was happy that he fessed up to doing that, and I understood why. He did have to apologize to his Aunt Chrissy, but he also told her that he didn't like that she smoked either.
Eric was a child who required and welcomed the truth, and he always wanted to know how his Aunt Chrissy was doing. As the weeks and months passed, I would tell him of her journey, the hope we had, the possibilities of the medicines and the prayers we had to say for her, Uncle Frank and the kids. His eyes were still young and naive, and I wasn't going to break his spirit.....I didn't want to break my spirit of hope as long as there was breath. Some days it was more difficult than others, so very challenging to stay positive when the results of tests or numbers were not. The day came when there were no more medicines to try; they had used them all and then some more. That was one of the most difficult days of my life.......the day I had to tell him that his Aunt Chrissy was probably going to see heaven soon. With disbelief in his eyes and utter shock; we held each other and wept.
He wanted to be near her and never let go......."I want to be with her mom," he would say. "I know my friend, I know," I sighed. Time appeared to stop back then; yet, it moved so quickly. Each step felt so heavy, not quite sure where or how to move, but we moved. Everyday he was asking to see her and inquiring about her condition. Everyday I would tell him the same......."She's very sick, Eric, we need to keep praying for her." In his years growing into adulthood, I hope he holds on to all his memories, not only while she was sick, but all of his wonderful memories with Chrissy. I'll never forget his words when he saw his cherished Aunt Chrissy, his second mom, his confidant. Expressing his love for her while looking into her eyes he said, "We love you Aunt Chrissy, and we'll be with you every step of the way."
I have so many proud moments of this son of mine, but that had to be one of my favorite, proudest moments: my son loving his aunt, my sister.
With losses in life there comes a "knowing." Knowing comes from seeing the transformations of spirit, of body, of mind when you feel the deepest fulfillment of love, watching someone taking their last breaths, while at the same time feeling tremendous pain, sometimes all in the same minute. Eric had a very special bond with his Aunt Chrissy, and he tells me almost everyday, especially at night how much he misses her. He has always been such a wise, old soul even when he was very young, and anyone who meets him is usually surprised by his maturity and thought processes. It makes you want to be a better person when you're around him. After hearing some of his thoughts; I thank God for being the mother of such a wonderful, kind soul. He is such a blessing!
When we moved from High Ridge to Ellisville, we lived with Chrissy and Frank in between until we bought our next home. We lived with them for about 4 months, before Frankie and Maria were born, and I think Chrissy connected with Eric like he was her own. He was about 3 years old at the time, and he told Chrissy that when he grows up, he would mow their lawn. He wasn't going to charge them money; he only wanted apples!
He would chat with her often, and sometimes when I was being the "mother" to him, Chrissy would give me that look like, lay off of him. One time much later, after we moved into our house, Chrissy called me to say that she thought Eric had gotten into her cigarettes because someone had tore them up and scattered them all over their front lawn. Of course, I couldn't believe that he would do this, and at first Eric denied it, and I believed him. I even told him he wasn't going to get punished because I understood why he would have done it. Eric never lies I told myself. He emphatically denied it. I told Chrissy that Eric said it wasn't him. "Are you sure it wasn't one of the neighbor kids????" I asked. There was silence over the phone, and she hesitated but said, "Ohhh, hmmm, I don't know about that. If he says he didn't do it..(pause).....okay, well." Was I being one of those moms? I hung up the phone and it dawned on me, I was being one of those moms......a mom who didn't want to accept that their child did something wrong. I wanted Eric to tell me himself, though, that he did it. It was shortly after I put him to bed that night, and within a few minutes, he crept out of bed and into the family room where I was watching the television. With a fearful look in his eyes he said, "Mom, I have something to tell you, and you're not going to be happy. I was the one who broke the cigarettes and scattered them all over Aunt Chrissy's lawn." I wasn't happy that he had lied to me, but I was happy that he fessed up to doing that, and I understood why. He did have to apologize to his Aunt Chrissy, but he also told her that he didn't like that she smoked either.
Eric was a child who required and welcomed the truth, and he always wanted to know how his Aunt Chrissy was doing. As the weeks and months passed, I would tell him of her journey, the hope we had, the possibilities of the medicines and the prayers we had to say for her, Uncle Frank and the kids. His eyes were still young and naive, and I wasn't going to break his spirit.....I didn't want to break my spirit of hope as long as there was breath. Some days it was more difficult than others, so very challenging to stay positive when the results of tests or numbers were not. The day came when there were no more medicines to try; they had used them all and then some more. That was one of the most difficult days of my life.......the day I had to tell him that his Aunt Chrissy was probably going to see heaven soon. With disbelief in his eyes and utter shock; we held each other and wept.
He wanted to be near her and never let go......."I want to be with her mom," he would say. "I know my friend, I know," I sighed. Time appeared to stop back then; yet, it moved so quickly. Each step felt so heavy, not quite sure where or how to move, but we moved. Everyday he was asking to see her and inquiring about her condition. Everyday I would tell him the same......."She's very sick, Eric, we need to keep praying for her." In his years growing into adulthood, I hope he holds on to all his memories, not only while she was sick, but all of his wonderful memories with Chrissy. I'll never forget his words when he saw his cherished Aunt Chrissy, his second mom, his confidant. Expressing his love for her while looking into her eyes he said, "We love you Aunt Chrissy, and we'll be with you every step of the way."
I have so many proud moments of this son of mine, but that had to be one of my favorite, proudest moments: my son loving his aunt, my sister.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Bathtime
Recently, when I was drawing a bath for my daughter, Faith, and hearing her yell, "It's too hot mom!".....it reminded me of my lil' sis, Chrissy, and how I used to get a bath ready for her. In fact, she was probably around the same age as Faith is now when I use to do this for her. Back then, though, I wasn't as patient when Chrissy would yell the same thing, and then shortly after I would add more cold water, and then she would yell, "It's too cold!"
As kids, I was probably 10 or 11 years old and Chrissy would have been 6 or 7. We used to audio tape events around the house with our cassette player, and I think I still have that particular cassette where I am drawing a bath for her. I would start the water and leave the bathroom while Chrissy would take off her clothes, and you could hear me rummaging about the house, and then you can hear Chrissy's voice yelling for me again. I can sense the agitation in my voice as she continues calling me......only to let me know the first time that the water is too cold. My foot steps pounding across the kitchen floor as I turn on more hot water. I know I was busy doing other house chores which I didn't want to do, and now I had to do this chore for my little sister. She would call me yet again when the water would become too hot. It was a back and forth game that I hated then, and now I wish it was possible to do it again for her. She grew to cherish her bath time into adulthood. That was her way of releasing the stress of the day. Children in bed, warm bubbly bath drawn, and there was my sister sinking into her hot bath. During the time nearing her death, it was bath time again. The nurse's aide would bathe her ever so gently, and sometimes Chrissy wanted me beside her so that I could see the "proper' way to bathe her. "You never know when you may need to do this for me," she would tell me. My heart was aching as she had allowed her power to be given to another, not by choice, but by necessity. There were times I would scream out in anger to God telling him this wasn't right, He made a mistake, it's not her turn.....this shouldn't be. He is God and I am me, and I will never understand, but I pray that I will or atleast accept what is to be.
Baths are my saving grace now as I put my worries aside and sink into a warm/hot bubbly bath where I can relax, stare into the flames of the candles, look up at the sky light, watch the stars and clear my mind......sometimes with a glass of wine, always thinking of her and her baths. I not only think of her, but I am reminded of my blessings and the time I did have with her. I'll never draw a bath and not think of her.....my sissy and her bathtime.
Lord, you are a compassionate and caring Father. Thank you for nurturing my development step by step and giving me understanding just as I need it. Help me to be as patient as you are with my simple and imperfect attempts at gaining maturity.
As kids, I was probably 10 or 11 years old and Chrissy would have been 6 or 7. We used to audio tape events around the house with our cassette player, and I think I still have that particular cassette where I am drawing a bath for her. I would start the water and leave the bathroom while Chrissy would take off her clothes, and you could hear me rummaging about the house, and then you can hear Chrissy's voice yelling for me again. I can sense the agitation in my voice as she continues calling me......only to let me know the first time that the water is too cold. My foot steps pounding across the kitchen floor as I turn on more hot water. I know I was busy doing other house chores which I didn't want to do, and now I had to do this chore for my little sister. She would call me yet again when the water would become too hot. It was a back and forth game that I hated then, and now I wish it was possible to do it again for her. She grew to cherish her bath time into adulthood. That was her way of releasing the stress of the day. Children in bed, warm bubbly bath drawn, and there was my sister sinking into her hot bath. During the time nearing her death, it was bath time again. The nurse's aide would bathe her ever so gently, and sometimes Chrissy wanted me beside her so that I could see the "proper' way to bathe her. "You never know when you may need to do this for me," she would tell me. My heart was aching as she had allowed her power to be given to another, not by choice, but by necessity. There were times I would scream out in anger to God telling him this wasn't right, He made a mistake, it's not her turn.....this shouldn't be. He is God and I am me, and I will never understand, but I pray that I will or atleast accept what is to be.
Baths are my saving grace now as I put my worries aside and sink into a warm/hot bubbly bath where I can relax, stare into the flames of the candles, look up at the sky light, watch the stars and clear my mind......sometimes with a glass of wine, always thinking of her and her baths. I not only think of her, but I am reminded of my blessings and the time I did have with her. I'll never draw a bath and not think of her.....my sissy and her bathtime.
Lord, you are a compassionate and caring Father. Thank you for nurturing my development step by step and giving me understanding just as I need it. Help me to be as patient as you are with my simple and imperfect attempts at gaining maturity.
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