For the past three years, I’ve written a little something around this time about my mom. The days from January 19 - January 31, 2008, were days that changed me, who I am, to my very core. I wasn’t the same person after January 31, and I’m not sure that I’ll ever be who I was before then. I became more serious, less carefree, and more aware of everything bad in the world. Three years ago today, January 20, was the last time I heard my mother’s voice. She said “I love you, baby,” just before I left to go take a shower because I’d been at the hospital all night long. She was going in for emergency open-heart surgery, and I was certain that she would make it; she’d survived everything else life had thrown at her. If you watched “How I Met Your Mother” this week, then you know how important Last Words are. I’m happy these were hers.
When she died, she took a little piece of me with her. I know this because I still think about her 2,572 times every day. Now that I’m pregnant with my little sea monkey (Marc hates that name), I think about her even more. I think about the stories she told me about her mother, because even though I never knew any of my grandparents my mom always talked about them. She wanted me to know about them and keep their memory alive, and I want my children to know their Nana as well.
I often imagine what her reaction might have been like when I told her that I was pregnant. I’m sure she would have cried and kissed me about 42 times and then immediately wanted to go shopping. Oh, but she would have called all of her friends and talked to each of them for 2 hours so we’d have to wait until the next day to go shopping. My mother was most definitely my very best friend, and I’m sad that I was robbed of that friendship just as I was truly becoming an adult.
I’m sure my mom had a few faults, but honestly I can’t really remember them. She was an amazing, incredible woman who survived ridiculous car accidents, diabetes, and cancer. She was my biggest fan at every basketball game, math competition, spelling bee, choir concert, soccer game, awards ceremony, and graduation ceremony (although I think she was even more proud of me every time I broke up with a crazy boyfriend). She was positively glowing with pride and love the day Marc and I got married. I think that’s how most people remember her, as it was the last big event before The Day That Changed Our Lives Forever. I’m glad that I have only beautiful, wonderful memories of my mother. Take this how you will, but sometimes I imagine that my mom just had so much love in her heart that it simply split her heart in two.
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| The doctor cut my forehead during the c-section. I was a big baby. |
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| Mom, my sister, me |
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| College graduation day |
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| Wedding Day |
**Heart disease in women truly is the silent killer. My mom had no idea she was having a heart attack, because you only see the male symptoms in movies and on TV (clutching of the left arm or pain in the chest area). This delayed her care for nearly 2 days. In women, the signs are much more subtle; in fact, she went to one hospital and ended up leaving because they didn’t seem too worried (she waited over an hour in the waiting room). She felt nauseous and clammy, and thought she was having gas pains. Please, educate your mothers, daughters, sisters, and friends about the signs because sometimes even healthcare providers do not recognize the signs. http://www.webmd.com/heart-disease/features/her-guide-to-a-heart-attack
