Memories of My Mother

     Well, here it is, one year to the day, that we had my mother's last birthday party. It was the last day that she was able to really know what was going on. We had a huge celebration with relatives coming in from Chattanooga and Birmingham. At the time of the party she had been diagnosed with lung cancer for 12 days.
     On this day she was able to sit on the front porch and swat at me with a fly swatter. Little did we know that by that evening she would never step foot outside the froont door again under her own power. But, it was a great day with her and all the relatives. We had a friend come in and take photographs of the whole day's event. For this excellent job I am forever grateful to Christina Kyle. This was an act of the utmost kindness as she took over 200 photos that day.
     It was only 16 days later that I got the call at 5:30 am that she had passed away. My wife, Jennifer, had awoken at 4:30 am and told me she had a weird feeling that we needed to call over to mom's and check to see if everything was ok. We didn't. We were told that she passed at 4:30 am. Very strange. Jennifer still talks about it; it was almost as if mom had let Jennifer know that she was leaving.
     That last month I tried to get over there as much as possible. Jennifer, my sister, and oldest daughter were there for any and every need that she had. They bathed her, rubbed her legs, just anything that needed done, they were there.
     There had been a family fued for several years. It had divided the extended family to the point that no one spoke. But, when plans were made to have her a party, which she protested, I got on the phone with my cousin Mike and said " We have to get your mom down here to see mom" It took off from there and the last thing my mother actually did, while cognizant of her actions, was to make up with my Aunt Jeanne, and cousins. My dad had really took the fued to heart and he does not forget. But, once my Aunt Jeanne walked up on that front porch it was ALL OVER between those two. It made me as happy as I have been in years, to see those two embrace each other in a heart-felt hug.
     Now, this is where it gets bad. I have no memories of my mother other than those 28 days, from when she was diagnosed until she passed. When she was diagnosed, Jennifer and I had taken Joey (our son) to Washington, D.C. to see the sites and the museums. When I called mom to see what her test she had done came back to say, she said they had found a tiny tumor on her left lung. BUT, the doctors said it was caught early and should be no problem. They were wrong.
     During this 28 days she ate 1 piece of chicken from KFC, a little macaroni salad, and 2 biscuits. That was it. The chemo medication she was taking and all the pain meds, had wiped out her desire for food. We kept her hydrated but couldn't make her eat. My dad and I took her to Athens, Ga. for her first radiation treatment and the doctor looked at us and said, "She is too weak. We can go ahead and give her the treatment but it would only make her sick. She is too far gone." My dad asked what I thought we should do, all I could say was she has suffered enough. We went home. The Hospice nurse came the next day and told us that it was just a matter of time. The week prior to her passing I was hospitalized with heart cramps, my heart was cramping from a lack of potassium. I spent the last week of my time that I should have been with her locked in an ICU. For this, I have great amounts of guilt. I know there was nothing I could do about it, but, there is still that guilt.
     Now, here it is one year later, I have had a heart attack, two TIA strokes, and a major stroke on Father's Day. I have lost my memory, I have to use a cane, I fall a lot, and I black out a lot. I am no longer allowed to drive. But the hardest thing is I have no memories of my mother other than when she was sick. I have the 200 photos of her last birthday party on my computer and I look at them on my good days. I can remember these 28 days like a movie playing through my head. But previous to this time it is a total blank. My sister says I am full of shit, but, whatever.
          But back to my mother. Today would have been her 66th birthday. So Happy Birthday MOM...if there is anything out there after we die, look down on me and let me know you still care. It has been a rough year without you here. I surely do miss you more than you would have ever believed. I loved you mom. There is nothing like a son's love for his mother. This has been hard to write momma, I have not slept in over 48 hours now. All I can think of is how I wished I would have never moved away for all those years, maybe I would have some memories now. But, some of us were born to roam, and, unfortunately, I was one of them.
      I have never really greived over her death, but, after writting this tribute, I hope that all the emotions that I have held onto for a year now, will be over. Maybe the healing starts now. So, Happy Birthday once again. One more thing that I DO remember is that she was born on V-J Day, the day the Japanese surrendered to the US at the end of WWII. 66 years ago today. Rest well momma and maybe, just maybe, I will meet you again. Until that day comes I will just keep looking at the pictures Christina made of your 65th birthday.
     I love you momma and always will.
     Your son.