WWMD - What Would Mom Do?

Here is my challenge to other bloggers, in honor of Mother's Day, I challenge you to write a piece about what you mother has taught you and then pass the torch on to all of your blogging and non blogging friends.

My mother passed away a few years ago from brain cancer.  I wish I'd taken the time to sit with her and ask her questions about life, about who I am, and about my family.  There are so many moments in my life where I question my sanity and wish I could just pick up the phone and make that phone call, hearing, "Don't worry.  It's not you.  Boy when you were little you did the same thing."  But instead I focus on those things that I feel she ingrained in me, made sure since she wasn't here a long period of time that I focus on the important things.

There is nothing you cannot do.  Sure Mom was always pushing us, but it was because she wanted more for us, she us to move beyond the street we grew up on, she wanted us to live.  She showed us that she could do the same thing is walking into a new job, a new life and persevering because to her, failure was not an option.  Try bringing home a bad grade in math in elementary school, she taught us early that she expected more from us and wasn't taking no for an answer.  Later in her chemotherapy time she still didn't give up, she decided that sure things may look like shit at the moment, but just being here was worth it.

I'll never forget watching her on that hospital bed playing Uno with my oldest son, listening to him complain that he was losing to her every time because they were "princess cards."  He didn't notice that her head was shaved, that there were tubes coming out of her, he noticed the princess cards because she didn't draw that attention, she simply went on with life.

I love that in her diagnosis we had the gift of time.  We were able to tell her how we felt in those months, talk about different feelings, and most of all hug her.  We didn't mind pushing her around on the red rocker (combination walker wheel chair) we just knew that every moment, every memory we created were special because unlike others out there, Mom had an expiration date.  There was a journey waiting for her that few even knew existed until they were stepping off that ledge.

Have some fun.  Sure, our dogs never sat or heeled or pooped in our yard.  We had hamsters that ran along the top of the kitchen cabinets.  We had birds that flew around the house landing on the dinner table picking the seeds out of the tomatoes.  Our house was never spotless, there was always time to play mermaid on the blue carpet in the basement rather than scrubbing toilets.  Later I remember her running after Wolfgang who was 3 at the time with a Ninja Turtle mask while I tried to get used to another newborn.  She always had time to have fun with her grandkids, a trait I hope to pass on.  We played hard then we cleaned up - it was simple.  Dishes after Thanksgiving, wrapping paper after a birthday, dog poop after a new puppy.  I love how I told her after a few beers to look "casual" going into the hotel to use the bathroom.  Well, she tripped into the hotel lobby, and tripped going back out to the street - both of us laughing.

Don't give up.  Many can decide to live in the life they have.  My mother decided that there was something out there for her and she went for it.  She wasn't looking for romance, she was looking for a partner and she found one.  Someone who sat with her every night drinking a beer talking about their day, someone who enjoyed making homemade soup as much as she did, someone who pushed her in the wheelchair during those years, gently touching her bald head before lightly kissing it.  Someone who took care of her and loved her until the end, loved her so much that he passed of a broken heart 6 weeks later.  Most are not that lucky.

When it is time, it is time.  My mother fought the good battle against a disease that slowly takes the pieces of the person you love and steals them away.  We took her advice when we had to make the hard decisions in her treatment, when we had to bond together and say goodbye.  We knew that she lived life to the fullest and the present condition was not acceptable, we knew that from years of listening to her tell us what she wanted us to do, she was silently telling us it was time.  There was a new adventure awaiting,  time to let her go.  The nurse told us, "She had a strong heart," when she died, we all knew that was true.

I know that we did the right thing, because when I want to call her and ask those questions, I feel a sense of peace.  Leave the dead be, they are in their own place, your job is to live now, is what she always told me.

Oh, and the secret to a clean house?

Lower the shades, they'll never see the dust.