Not that long ago, Mom remarked that she lived for weekends. It’s a sentiment many of us can relate to, but one might wonder, “Why would an 87-year-old woman live for weekends? At that point in your life, isn’t every day the weekend?”
If you think about it, though, it really isn’t that hard to understand. Friday night, my husband Dan would pick her up after work and bring her to our house, where we would enjoy a quiet evening of take-out and Netflix. The weekend would end with us gathering together either at my sister Katie’s house or ours for Sunday dinner. Again, nothing fancy, just three generations gathered together to share food and conversation.
You see, it wasn’t actually the weekend that Mom lived for; it was family.
And that shouldn’t surprise any of us, for Mom devoted her whole life to family. She lovingly raised five children and played an essential role in the raising of her grandchildren. Dan and I had already moved to Rocklin when Jared was born, but Mom was there waiting for us when we got home from the hospital to calmly reassure me during those first days of motherhood that all the strange newborn sounds he was making were perfectly normal. She adored her grandchildren and gladly spent many hours taking care of them, feeding them, and crawling down the hallway playing cars with them.
Throughout our lives, Mom was the one constant in this crazy world. She was always there when you needed her. On holidays, you never had to wonder what you were going to do. Dinner was at Mom’s at 2:00. Want to bring a date? No problem. Everyone was graciously welcomed and made to feel right at home.
Mom didn’t like conflict and was pretty good at keeping her opinions to herself. She would let us screw up on our own, support our decisions no matter how stupid they were, then quietly welcome us back when we realized our mistake. But she did have good advice when we were willing to listen. My favorite was what she told me at my bridal shower. Everyone was asked to give their best advice for a happy marriage. The first words out of Mom’s mouth were, “There will be days you will hate him.” Not exactly what I was expecting her to say. (By the way, Mom loved Dan, so this was in no way a reflection on him.) Fortunately, she didn’t stop there, and went on to explain that those feelings pass and you remember again why you married in the first place. Mom was pretty smart. Dan and I have been married 21 years now, and there may have been a time or two when we realized just how right Mom was.
I read an essay recently about motherhood that reflected on the sacrifices mothers make for their children, sacrifices that often go unnoticed. The author begins by lamenting the fact that she feels invisible having sacrificed the person she once was for the sake of motherhood. After reading a book about cathedrals, she concludes
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.
I’m not sure my brother, sisters, and I could be considered “great cathedrals,” but when I read this, I thought about Mom and all the sacrifices she made for us. I’m sure there were times that she felt unnoticed and unappreciated. But the thing is, I don’t think she would consider any of the things she did for us as sacrifices. In her mind, they were just the things that mothers do.
My son Jared just turned 17 and begins his senior year of high school on Wednesday. When I was his age I couldn’t wait to move out and get away from Mom and Dad. Of course, now I can’t remember why that was. I obviously had it pretty good, but I guess I longed for the freedom and independence that seems so tantalizing at that age. I couldn’t wait to get away, and yet that first year of college my long distance phone bills averaged $200 a month because I was constantly calling Mom. I learned pretty quickly that freedom and independence aren’t all they’re cracked up to be, and sometimes you just need your mom.
And it’s both frightening and comforting to realize that never changes, no matter how old you get. I wasn’t - I’m not - ready to live in a world without my mother. But I know that while I may not have been ready to let go, Mom was. When she was in the hospital the last time and found out that she had fractured a vertebra, she asked what did it matter, she was just an old woman and Dad was gone and he wasn’t coming back. When I protested that she still had us, she responded that she loved us all very much, but we had our own lives to live.
Even though she was willing to let go, she was still worried about the ones she would leave behind. Katie was with Mom when the chaplain came to visit her a week before she died. When he asked if there was anything she wanted to pray for, she had one response: my children. With Mom, her first concern was always her family.
In the book, “Cry, Heart, but Never Break,” the figure of Death looks kindly at a group of children who have just lost their beloved grandmother and says, “ Cry, Heart, but never break. Let your tears of grief and sadness help begin new life.” There have been many tears these last few weeks and I know there will be many more in the weeks and months ahead as we come to terms with the fact that our mother, our grandmother, the woman who has always been there when we needed her is no longer here. And while the tears will reflect all that we have lost, may they also remind us of all that we have been given, so that we may continue to live and laugh and love the way Mom would want us to. May we find comfort, too, in the one thing that meant the most to Mom: family.
