I remember the day when my mom told me that she sincerely thought that I was a great writer.
But was she proud of me? I needed to know.
Yes, of course she was. That made me fill up with such happiness.
It’s all that I wanted then and it’s all that I want now, is for my mommy to be proud of me.
She suffered greatly for many years.
Her entire digestive system was failing due to a lack of blood flow. We didn’t know that until the end, of course, because no doctor was ever able to figure out what was wrong with her. She fought so fucking hard to stay alive, battling her broken body day after day.
All she really wanted was to be able to take a shit.
Her death has given me a whole new outlook on life, but that’s for another time.
My mom was a beautiful woman, with a killer sense of humor and a genuine heart of gold. She loved her grandchildren fiercely and spoiled them whenever she could. It was important to her that her grandchildren always remembered her and I know that all three of them will.
My daughter was especially super close to her. I told my Brooke how lucky she was to have had such a wonderful relationship with her grandma.
My mom was my best friend. My sounding board. My rock. The one person who never let me down and always had my back. She knew me better than I know myself.
She loved to play Words With Friends, so much in fact that when my daughter reached out to them, they said that they’d post a tribute in her honor.
She loved slot machines. Her family. Her friends. Her dogs, Lou and Jack. She loved Big Macs, iced coffee and her cigarettes, a hardcore smoker for over 60 years. She knew they were toxic and unhealthy, but she was unable to give them up. She was extremely pleased when my younger brother and I quit the habit.
She was an RN and was excellent at her job. She had the gift of making people feel better, but maybe even more importantly, she could make people laugh.
She could always talk me down. She understood me when no one else ever could. Now I find myself hearing her in my head, telling me to get up and keep going.
I promised her that I would.
My constant worry knot is gone, now replaced with the most intense grief that I’ve ever felt in my entire life. My main focus now is on my daughter, who really needs her own mommy. I feel like my mom has somehow given me the ability to stay strong for her right now.
You were so brave, mom. Rest in peace now, honey.