i can't say that i don't know how to do this without her....because she taught me better than that.
she taught me that i can do anything i set my mind to.
i know that i will get through this.
but we are so intertwined. she is as tangled in my spirit as that cancer is tangled in her lungs. inoperable. inseparable.
we think the same way. we have the same tastes. she is a much better person than i am and i want her to stay so i can learn how to be as good as she is.she is so smart. there is so much i still haven't learned. she hasn't explained finance to me. she has tried. i bought a few stocks. but i was afraid to sell them. she told me why i needed to be able to let go. i still don't understand it very well. she knows how to do everything. she taught me how to change a tire, and fix a toilet, and now she is teaching me more about determination and will than i have ever known.
she has always been a person of great character. she does the right thing. whether it is popular or not. without hesitation. without fear of repercussions.
i call her when i am really happy or really sad or when i need to know how long to bake a potato. i call her when i cross bridges. she teases me about that. but when i cross the bridges here, i first am taken by how lucky i am to live here, and then i think that it is perfect "except" and the "except" is that she is so far away, so i call her from bridges.
i talked to her this morning. i told her that liz (our receptionist) has been giving me recipes for things that are soft to eat, but pack a huge nutritional punch. mom loves liz. when she was out here in june for magee's graduation ceremony, she asked if she could come by the office to say hi to liz. (alas, liz was on vacation that week.) on my first day back in the office after my month home with mom, i held it together pretty well, until liz saw me, unplugged her headset and walked around the front desk to give me a hug. today, mom told me that the next time she comes out here she is going to come to the office and give liz a big hug.
and when i hung up the phone, i quietly put my head in my hands and cried tears that fell so hard on my desk that they splashed back at me, because i don't think she is ever going to make it out here again.
i want her here forever. and not in my heart. in my face. in my house.
to her, i am "angel", "sweetie", "bones." and when she says "nite, nite, angel" at the end of every phone call, it is like she is tucking me in from 3000 miles away.
I am trying to remember not to get caught up in the loss. She is still here with me. I talk to her every morning and write her a letter every night. (Usually about some way that I have misbehaved at the office.) I can't wait until I get to see her face again.
How do you prepare for the loss of the person who loves you the most in the world?
My mother has never said anything unkind to me. Ever.
