Mom

Just recently one of my posts revolved around the Smith’s and their music, so it is sadly ironic that I find one of their songs stuck in my head, playing on an endless loop. It has been there since Monday (19th October) when I went to visit my mother in icu. It won’t surprise you then to hear that she is in a coma hence that song lodging itself in my traumatized psyche.

“I know – it’s really serious,” the song goes. “There were times when I could have ‘murdered’ her but, you know, I would hate anything to happen to her. NO, I DON’T WANT TO SEE HER. Do you really think she’ll pull through? … WOULD YOU PLEASE LET ME SEE HER! Do you really think she’ll pull through? Let me whisper my last goodbyes. I know – IT’S SERIOUS”.

It is a terrible thing to see her connected to all these machines and containers, all driving her frail little body. I dont quite know what to do. It is hard to imagine my life without her in it because she has been the one constant in it. As a child I shared an incredibly close bond with her, this as a result of my father dying when I was 5 or 6. Told by the adults that I was the “man of the house” now, I took on that role of looking after my mother and providing her companionship as best I could. We had our problems when I completed my military service and the damage that returned with me. There were also issues with the two men she married late in life of whom I disapproved but I always prayed for her happiness and always, always loved her…love her. My mother had a tough life and way more than her fair share of bad things happened to her: being dumped in a children’s home by her mother, having the love of her life die at a young age leaving her alone with 2 small children, a further 2 bad marriages and then the kicker, contracting a chronic illness, emphysema. My heart breaks when I think about it because she deserved better. She truly is one of the most amazing, caring, loving people you could wish to meet.

She rarely stepped foot in a church as an adult but was an extremely spiritual person. She taught me that you do not have to have a building to worship and pray, and you do not need a person to be your intermediary with your Creator. She had a very personal relationship with God and when she leaves this world I can just imagine her giving Him/Her a real earful. He/She will have a lot of explaining to do to my mother about how He/She could let such terrible things happen to her. My mom is a perfect example of bad things happening to good people. Why does that happen when there are so many people who really, really deserve the worst?

I love you, Mom. Please don’t leave us just yet. Come back. I know it is selfish and you are tired and deserve some rest but I need you. Even if it is just for a little while longer.

Below: My mother is on the left with the glasses seated next her brother, Frank, and his wife, Thelma.

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