My Mom
When I'm feeling a little down my thoughts almost always turn to my mother. So, I thought hey she's blog-worthy let's talk about her tonight!
If you never met my mother, you missed out and if you did meet her you definitely remember her.
Her eyes had a way of glistening. She was beautiful and didn't know it, and man did she love to laugh! That's what you saw on the surface.
But, if you took the time to look closer you saw oceans of pain that made her the woman that she was. She knew every form of abuse imaginable. Abandoned by her parents at the age of 14, she was left to care for her 3 younger sisters while her 2 older brothers abused her. Life was less than desirable. Her grandmother did get them off the streets forcing them to live in a shed by her restaurant, (where they had to work for free) where there was no plumbing, heating, or cooling. They were not allowed to go to the bathroom in the restaurant either, but were given a pot to "take care of their business."
I am truly not sure how she survived everything she went through accept by the grace of God.
Fast forward....at the young age of 35 she is told she has cancer. I was 5 years old at the time. I had just started Kindergarten. It wasn't long before all the kids found out, and they all asked me one day at school when my mom was gonna die because people with cancer die. I didn't know that--she told me she was gonna be fine.
She battled (& I mean battled) Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma for 11 years. It spread everywhere. There were so many ups and downs, and remissions and good days and bad days, you never knew what tomorrow would bring. Would she be beautiful and happy today, or would she be crying and throwing up blood? She was really the thermostat of my day. If she had a good day, I had a good day, if she had a bad day, I had a bad day.
Sometimes the most frustrating part of that season of my life was going to school and listening to my friends talk about their "problems." I would get so angry with them, because my mother was at home dying and they were worried about so and so talking about so and so in class today. Normalcy was gone.
But, I can honestly say that through it all--I never (not once) heard my mother ask Why? She may have, I'm certain she asked God. But I never heard it come from her mouth.
She wasn't perfect. We used to have our arguments, which would cause me to yell, Mother! To which she would reply, oh Lissa Sue lighten up! I would crawl in her bed at night and tell her about this boy I liked, and how mad he made me. I married that boy, just like she told me I would someday. We used to make homemade cookies, and sew pillows. Tons of other things she wanted to teach me, but I didn't want to learn.
The thing I admired most about her was her faith. We had nothing growing up, I mean nothing. We were always broke. But Mom would write out her check to the church without an ounce of worry in her face of what we would do. She started a food pantry in St. Elmo that we should have been customers of...but she said there's always someone who has a worse time then we do...really? I would think, are you kidding? Whenever I would worry about anything, she would make me read the Bible, always the end of Matthew Chapter 6. I would read it and look at her like so what? and she would make me read it again. (I now make Matthew do the same thing.)
She taught me so much. She would've taught me more, if I would've listened. She taught me what it means to forgive. That same father that abandoned her? He ended up on our doorstep when I was 9. She invited him in, he lived with us. (I had to share a room with him--was not thrilled) He was an alcoholic and she tried to get him help, but it was too late. He died 4 years later, but my mom cared for him everyday. Why? Because of the love of Christ. She tried so hard to instill those values in me, but I didn't much care while she was around.
Her and dad separated for awhile before she passed away. It was just me and her living together. It was truly the best 9 months of my life. We had so much fun together. We would stay up late...she would take me out at night and let me drive, even though I didn't have a license yet. We would go to the Laundromat, and eat a big greasy Casey's pizza all by ourselves. We would sing, we would laugh...it was happiness. And then it was over.
The cancer had spread to her bones, and her brain. There wasn't much time. We had to move back in with my dad...I couldn't take care of her anymore. Hospice came in. It was just a waiting game. No one slept. No one ate. No one talked. We just waited. She got to tell all of us (her mother and grandmother included) goodbye. And just like that, her smile slipped from here to Heaven.
Everyone left the room. I didn't move. Where was I suppose to go? I mean where do you go when someone is dead in your living room? I just sat there waiting to wake up. Some days I still feel like I'm trying to wake up.
Why did God take her so early? I don't know. But, I do know that she impacted so many lives while she was here. She was always giving of herself. Never growing weary in doing good. She told me one time that selfishness is ugly. So true. She lived to bless others.
After she died, I had so many people come up and tell me stories about her visiting them in the hospital. I had no idea. She needed cared for and encouraged just as much as they did...but she knew God would take care of her. Just a couple of years ago one of her best friends came in the bank with a package for me. She had saved some of my baby clothes for me, and had given them to this friend to make sure that I got them. She knew I wouldn't get them from my dad. (that's a whole nother blog).
It's funny the things you remember. It's funny the things you forget when life gets hard. Maybe some of you need to take my mother's advice and read the end of Matthew Chapter 6 tonight---and then, read it again. Thanks mom.
If you never met my mother, you missed out and if you did meet her you definitely remember her.
Her eyes had a way of glistening. She was beautiful and didn't know it, and man did she love to laugh! That's what you saw on the surface.
But, if you took the time to look closer you saw oceans of pain that made her the woman that she was. She knew every form of abuse imaginable. Abandoned by her parents at the age of 14, she was left to care for her 3 younger sisters while her 2 older brothers abused her. Life was less than desirable. Her grandmother did get them off the streets forcing them to live in a shed by her restaurant, (where they had to work for free) where there was no plumbing, heating, or cooling. They were not allowed to go to the bathroom in the restaurant either, but were given a pot to "take care of their business."
I am truly not sure how she survived everything she went through accept by the grace of God.
Fast forward....at the young age of 35 she is told she has cancer. I was 5 years old at the time. I had just started Kindergarten. It wasn't long before all the kids found out, and they all asked me one day at school when my mom was gonna die because people with cancer die. I didn't know that--she told me she was gonna be fine.
She battled (& I mean battled) Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma for 11 years. It spread everywhere. There were so many ups and downs, and remissions and good days and bad days, you never knew what tomorrow would bring. Would she be beautiful and happy today, or would she be crying and throwing up blood? She was really the thermostat of my day. If she had a good day, I had a good day, if she had a bad day, I had a bad day.
Sometimes the most frustrating part of that season of my life was going to school and listening to my friends talk about their "problems." I would get so angry with them, because my mother was at home dying and they were worried about so and so talking about so and so in class today. Normalcy was gone.
But, I can honestly say that through it all--I never (not once) heard my mother ask Why? She may have, I'm certain she asked God. But I never heard it come from her mouth.
She wasn't perfect. We used to have our arguments, which would cause me to yell, Mother! To which she would reply, oh Lissa Sue lighten up! I would crawl in her bed at night and tell her about this boy I liked, and how mad he made me. I married that boy, just like she told me I would someday. We used to make homemade cookies, and sew pillows. Tons of other things she wanted to teach me, but I didn't want to learn.
The thing I admired most about her was her faith. We had nothing growing up, I mean nothing. We were always broke. But Mom would write out her check to the church without an ounce of worry in her face of what we would do. She started a food pantry in St. Elmo that we should have been customers of...but she said there's always someone who has a worse time then we do...really? I would think, are you kidding? Whenever I would worry about anything, she would make me read the Bible, always the end of Matthew Chapter 6. I would read it and look at her like so what? and she would make me read it again. (I now make Matthew do the same thing.)
She taught me so much. She would've taught me more, if I would've listened. She taught me what it means to forgive. That same father that abandoned her? He ended up on our doorstep when I was 9. She invited him in, he lived with us. (I had to share a room with him--was not thrilled) He was an alcoholic and she tried to get him help, but it was too late. He died 4 years later, but my mom cared for him everyday. Why? Because of the love of Christ. She tried so hard to instill those values in me, but I didn't much care while she was around.
Her and dad separated for awhile before she passed away. It was just me and her living together. It was truly the best 9 months of my life. We had so much fun together. We would stay up late...she would take me out at night and let me drive, even though I didn't have a license yet. We would go to the Laundromat, and eat a big greasy Casey's pizza all by ourselves. We would sing, we would laugh...it was happiness. And then it was over.
The cancer had spread to her bones, and her brain. There wasn't much time. We had to move back in with my dad...I couldn't take care of her anymore. Hospice came in. It was just a waiting game. No one slept. No one ate. No one talked. We just waited. She got to tell all of us (her mother and grandmother included) goodbye. And just like that, her smile slipped from here to Heaven.
Everyone left the room. I didn't move. Where was I suppose to go? I mean where do you go when someone is dead in your living room? I just sat there waiting to wake up. Some days I still feel like I'm trying to wake up.
Why did God take her so early? I don't know. But, I do know that she impacted so many lives while she was here. She was always giving of herself. Never growing weary in doing good. She told me one time that selfishness is ugly. So true. She lived to bless others.
After she died, I had so many people come up and tell me stories about her visiting them in the hospital. I had no idea. She needed cared for and encouraged just as much as they did...but she knew God would take care of her. Just a couple of years ago one of her best friends came in the bank with a package for me. She had saved some of my baby clothes for me, and had given them to this friend to make sure that I got them. She knew I wouldn't get them from my dad. (that's a whole nother blog).
It's funny the things you remember. It's funny the things you forget when life gets hard. Maybe some of you need to take my mother's advice and read the end of Matthew Chapter 6 tonight---and then, read it again. Thanks mom.
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