#11 Tribute to Mom

Tomorrow, on Mother’s Day, Mom will be in heaven 2 years, 8 months, 17 days.  This will be my third Mother’s Day without her.  As this week was unfolding, I could feel a disorientation going on in my mind.  My mind darted over to the thought “I’ve got to get Mom a card” and instantly I realized “she’s not here.”  That also happened last year.

It seems like yesterday that Mom was still here, but as time goes by, it seems she’s been gone much longer. That is when I apply this verse from 2 Peter 3:8 “But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day.”  Though Peter is talking about the coming day of the Lord, that feeling of time moving fast and slow, is there.

The first Mother’s Day without her, I bought a card and wrote a message to her.   But the second year and this year, I didn’t want to do that.  This year, it’s all about pictures and memories.  I love thinking about all the things Mom did for me that made me feel special and loved. 

Mom was strict.  I would look at her face and know that I better not do what I had planned on doing.  I usually didn’t get in much trouble.  My sister called me the “goody two shoes”.  Mom taught me how to cook Puerto Rican rice and how to sew on a sewing machine.  She showed me how to crochet and knit.  I can’t crochet and knit anymore, but I still sew.

When my first marriage failed and I was totally penniless, Mom watched my three little kids while I worked full time.  What was remarkable was that she was already watching my youngest sister’s two kids because she was a single mother as well.  Later on, my sister remarried and Mom watched the new baby too.  Yes, it was a great challenge watching six kids under the age of six but Mom loved us.

Mom cooked for all of them.  She made up games for them.  She broke up fights between them.  She watched them all summer while my sister and I worked.  She watched all those kids into their teenage years.  When I complained to others about my kids’ teenage years, I knew Mom could complain more, so I better not say much.

 

When Edry and I got married, Mom made her special, huge pot of Puerto Rican rice for our reception.  Mom always made extra food and sent it upstairs where we lived.  She knew that I probably didn’t have time to cook for my new husband with the long hours I kept at work. There were no complaints from any of us. 

When Edry and I bought our first house and moved out, there was Mom standing at the door, with tears in her eyes.  And there was I, in the car driving away, crying, because I wouldn’t see her every day, like I would want to.  But Sunday became family time, and there we were visiting Mom and Dad, eating away. 

Thanksgiving was Mom’s favorite holiday.  She loved having all her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren over.  As she got older and tired, my second sister and I took turns hosting Thanksgiving.  The last Thanksgiving Mom was with us, was spent at my sister’s.  When I hosted, I felt that same love of family being together that Mom felt. I knew why it was so important to her.

When Edry was near the end of his life, Mom was diagnosed with terminal ovarian cancer.  I was so torn between how to spend time with both of them.  When Edry passed away, I went to live with my parents and took a leave of absence from teaching to take care of Mom during her last five weeks. 

I was able to spend time listening to her stories, to her sorrows, to her fear of leaving Dad behind.  Mom has always been strong but she was so frail, a side of her I had not really seen.  We watched the Price Is Right, her favorite show, every day.  My youngest sister and I made up her medication schedule, her meal schedule, and her exercise schedule but in the end, God’s schedule was to take her to His place, Heaven.

I miss her contagious laugh.  I miss her cooking.  I miss how happy she made Dad feel.  He misses her so much.  I miss her smell of perfume.  I now buy the same ones so that I can smell her every day.   I wear her broaches, her earrings, and anything else I’ve kept, so that I can think back to that time when she wore it. 

I miss sitting with Mom talking about Jesus.  Sundays after church, we would talk about the messages at our churches.  It’s not the same but now when I visit Dad, we sit and talk about the messages at our churches.  I’m glad that Mom set the pace and the standard for both of us, that talking about Jesus is the best way to spend our time.

My mom, a self-sacrificing woman, not just for her children, but for the people she ministered to at St. Aloysius for over 30 years.  At her funeral service, the church was full of people that loved her.  She always spoke the truth to people and always turned them to Christ if they wanted to see results in their lives.  Mom loved the Lord with all her heart and it showed. 

I know that one day I will see Mom again in heaven and what a great day that will be.  I love you Mom.

Give your mother a big hug and kiss and tell her you love her.
A Song For Mama by Boyz II Men