Mom

My mom isn't doing very well. She started having seizures on Friday and was admitted to the hospital on Saturday. There she spends most of her time sleeping, since both seizures and the medication to prevent them are sleep-inducing. For those people that read this blog that don't know what's going on, she has brain cancer: right frontal glioblastoma multiforme if you want to get specific, and her unbelievable fight seems to be coming to an end. You can never tell with my mother though; she was told in 2003 that she had maybe a year. But I've learned that: a) there are very many things that doctors don't know, and b) my mom is pretty tough.

But I'm not getting on a plane right now. For one thing, I was just there three weeks ago. Mom and I had a very good goodbye - the only real conversation of the whole visit. Every time I've left her over the last year I've said goodbye and cemented the moment in my mind. For another, we have no idea how long she has, and it's hard to leave two little ones when you have no idea how long you'll be gone. And Liam and Olivia can of course tell that something is wrong and are very clingy.

Well, I suppose Liam knows something is wrong because we had a talk, because he has seen me crying and we have to prepare him for what's going to happen (I think the three-year-old version of this is that we're going on a plane trip and that Mommy will be sad). This will be his first experience with death and I really don't know what he thinks it is. I told him that Nanny is very very sick (not sick like we get, but very very sick) and that she's going to die. And that I was sad and soon we'd go on an airplane to be with everyone and together we'd say good bye to Nanny. He was sad for a bit and we talked a little bit more and that's been it.

So, since I really can't think about anything but my mom, I'm going to tell you a story about her. If you've heard it before, sorry, but it is just so, well, my mom.

A few years ago, in the middle of winter, my mother came home to find someone in her house. She lives alone. She also lives in Nova Scotia, so she immediately set into pulling off her boots when she noticed CDs scattered around her living room floor. Of course my mid-twenties (at the time) brother lives in the same city and, since you never know when your adult kids are going to wander off with your stuff, when she heard some noises upstairs she assumed it was James. And she kept pulling off her hat and scarf and coat. Then she heard a strange voice from upstairs: "Get out of the house."

Of course, being my mother, she didn't leave. Her DVD player and CD player were stacked on the dining room table, along with some other assorted valuables, an unknown male felon is in her bedroom, and she didn't leave.

Instead, she offered to make him a sandwich.

You see, in my mother's mind, the only reason a person would break the law is out of desperation. And not desperation for things like drugs or alcohol, but for food. And perhaps he had a few starving children at home. So she called upstairs, "Are you hungry? Would you like me to make you some lunch?"

After a pause he said no, and he came downstairs. He kept his head tilted downwards, probably so that Mom couldn't identify him, but she thought he was embarrassed. He went right over to the stack of stuff on the dining room table, so Mom said firmly, "You can't take those; they aren't yours." and he immediately replied, "No no," and rubbed his coat on them a bit as if he were wiping off fingerprints. And then he left. Taking nothing.

Of course Mom then called the police, who quickly came out and gave her a stern talking to about leaving the house immediately and possible motives besides hunger and other such things. And of course they never caught the guy.

But that's my mom. Perhaps a bit nieve, perhaps a bit black and white about the world; when she sees the good in you she ignores the bad.* But very kind and generous. And a mother bear about her children.

So right now we're hanging in there, keeping our routine, and waiting for any news.

*This wasn't so helpful when I was a teenager and was looking for advice on things like clothing and haircuts. Being told that, "Sweetie, you'd look good in a paper bag," doesn't help when you have wide shoulders and no boobs and end up in a strapless prom dress that actually ROTATES while you are slow dancing. Not to mention the half-updo-half-down hair to go with it. (If I knew where the picture was I still wouldn't show you.)

Comments

[Kari]

I love that story.

[stefaneener]

What a terrific story. What a loss for you and your kids.

[sue]

Dear Kathy, What a beautiful posting. I am on my way to Halifax now and we will talk, perhaps tomorrow. You are a wonder and am awestruck everyday that you are in my life. And I have felt this ever since I met you, when you were teeny tiny; the person who made me an auntie for the first time. Love Sue

[Holly Jo]

I love that story. The world might be a better place if we assumed things about people the way your mom did in the story.

I am truly sorry about your mom. I didn't know what was wrong, just that she was sick. I will be thinking about your family.

[Jane]

Kathy, One of the few things that I have discovered from life is that it is never easy to lose a parent---no matter how old we are. You and your mother are in my thoughts and prayers. You definately got your strength from your mon....jane

[Jim]

Hi Kathy and Mark, Lian and Olivia I just want to send my condolences regarding your mom/grandmother. I loved her and she has left a hole in all our lives that not even time will close, however, she lives on in our hearts and she has set an example of living our lives for all of us to follow.