There are times in life when there are no words to describe how you're feeling. Perhaps there has been a fundamental change in your world. Maybe there was a strange occurrence during breakfast. Or, perhaps something, or someone, has been lost.
Today I lost my mother.
I guess thats not a fair thing to say. I didn't "lose" her. She wasn't a set of keys or an odd chotchke or something. She passed on.
I am angry and frustrated and sad and confused and above all... I miss my mommy. I want to call her and ask what I should do now. I want to hug her and have her tell me that everything will be alright. I want to go to her house and talk about life and laugh about something that might have happened in our lives. I want her to be here. I want to take back the last conversation that I'd had with her. I want to buy a house and have her live with me and help me teach James to speak German and to go with Sean and James and I to Germany or Maine or anywhere. I want her to be healthy and happy and here. I want my Mom.
That being said, she was not healthy. She still had her humor and she still had her smarts. But her body was not cooperating with everything that she wanted to get done. Her heart had a replaced valve. She had COPD from a lifetime of smoking. Her mind might not have been as strong and sharp as it had once been. But, she was still here.
There are people in this world that can't help but improve the lives of those around them. My mom was one of those people. She was funny. Most of the time, it wasn't really on purpose, but she was hilarious despite that. A couple of my all time favorite one liners were: "It's going to be alright, damnit." and (to a former patient who was nervous about showing her his penis for a catheter) "Don't worry, I've seen more wieners than Oscar Meyer."
I like to think that she's sipping strong coffee with my grandma Gertrud on the porch of grandma's old condo overlooking the Rhine river, waving at tourists over the long window baskets full of deep red geraniums and laughing together. Perhaps Sean's mom, Jill, is sitting with them. And one of my mom's hands is resting gently on our red Golden Retriever Reba's ears, scratching that spot she always was angling her head to get scratched.
So, if you're so inclined, please raise a glass to Edith Martha Graf and her life of love of books, sewing and travel. Remember her smile and her dry wit for friends and family if you're lucky enough to have known her. Think of her tenacity and the incredible jam she used to make. Imagine her laughing at some silly in-joke or railing about the government. Treasure our times with her and savor the memories together. Myself, I've already raised a few glasses to mom and plan to do just a bit more before the night is out. Love you Mom and I will be forever thankful that I had you in my life.
