In November, the week of the thanksgiving holiday, my mom was rushed to the hospital with heart failure.
She was unresponsive and had a tube down her throat when I got to the emergency room.
It was almost midnight.
They couldn’t get her stable and so I watched her, seemingly lifeless body, until 4:00 am when we moved to the ICU.
She stayed there for two days and then another five in a regular room that had a door.
She came home but she hasn’t been the same.
She has resisted “western medicine” since I was a child. Preferring yoga, meditation and loads of supplements not regulated by the FDA.
She’s also been a life long smoker.
So, now at 77, she’s in heart failure.
She hates the pills.
She hates the way they make her feel.
I am sure she hates not smoking.
She is on medicine to help strengthen her heart.
The same heart that guided me, loved me, raised me to care.
The same heart that buried a child that was stillborn at 9 months, 55 years ago. And buried a child that had just turned 53, three years ago.
The same heart that beat at the funerals of her own mom, dad and only brother and sister.
Her life wasn’t easy.
Her 27 year marriage to my father, wasn’t easy.
Raising 4 kids, I’m sure, wasn’t easy.
But she did it all with love.
A tremendous amount of love.
She has always been, to this day, the kindest person I know.
Compassionate to the core of her being.
Fostered anyone or anything that needed a home.
Being a mother, defined her.
Being my mother, she defined me.
She taught me to read and write, yes.
Letters she cut out in sandpaper
Tactile, visual and auditory learning
She taught me to love books.
Love the smell of a library.
Know the librarian by name.
Taught me to carry a book with me everywhere, because you never know…
She encouraged me as child when my poetry was so, so very bad.
She encouraged me with the crayon box, to use every color.
She let me pick out my own clothes,even if it meant a tutu over jeans but under a dress.
Everything was an adventure
She was curious about all of it, every day, all the time.
She let me be bossy.
She let me be bold.
Education was vital to her and for her to teach was like breathing.
Beautiful and smart, what a legacy.
This isn’t her eulogy.
It sort of feels like one.
I’m not ready to let go
Not see her anymore
Probably never will be
With all of this
And a heart as big as Texas
I’d just assume she’d go on forever
Just like her love
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