I'm sure most of my blog readers know that my Mom passed away on November 10. And since then, I have not been quite sure what to blog about. Expressing tender emotions is not something that is very easy for me to do, and all of my emotions these days are pretty tender. Even as I'm writing this, I'm not even sure what I really want to say. I think I just want to get down some of my favorite things about my Mom, for my own memories. And those of you who know her and love her too might enjoy the reminiscence.
My Mom prayed for me to be born. I love that. She knew that our family wasn't done after my brother was born, and even though there were some health risks involved, she prayed hard and I came to earth and we were both healthy and happy.
She loved reading with me. When I was small, we got new furniture in our front room, and she told me that she specifically bought the love seat to be our reading-together couch. And we used it well! Some of my favorite books that I read with my mom include Goodnight Moon, The Runaway Bunny, A Fairy Went A Marketing, Heggity Peg, Pig Pig Grows Up, Ping, Dandilion Wine, Life on the Refrigerator Door, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants series, Harry Potter, and Eat Pray Love. She was always fun to talk to about good books- analyzing characters and plot lines. I loved listening to her read out loud. About a week before she died, I read out loud to her- a couple of chapters from Fablehaven. I'm not even sure she knew what was going on, but we had a good time doing one of our favorite things.
When I told her that I wanted to try being a vegetarian, she told me that she felt like I was coming out of the closet. :)
She loved going to DI and finding cool toys or books or stuffed animals. I hated going to DI. I hated the smell, and rummaging through people's unwanted things. But she always dragged me along with her.
We also went to a lot of boutiques in my childhood. And Gobbers Odd Lot (Erin, Em... is that what it was called?) If we did all of our chores for the week, we could go to Gobbers Odd Lot and pick out a toy. I felt like that was one of the coolest things in the world.
She was my first preschool teacher. I remember her playing songs on her guitar for us to sing to. I still remember words to some of the greatest hits like The Ghost of John and 5 Fat Turkeys and What A Pretty Rainbow and of course, the words to Early Bird Preschool, taught by Miss Gae! I remember her making stew for the annual preschool Thanksgiving Feast and hunting for eggs in our backyard on easter. I was just thinking the other day about how we made bird feeders by smearing peanut butter on a pine cone and rolling it around in bird seed.
Speaking of birds, during high school, my friends called her The Bird Lady, cause we had a basement full of parrots and lovebirds. Also, if anyone in the neighborhood found a lost or sick or broken bird, she was always the one that got called to rescue it. She had a tender heart for all animals. When I was little, we bought a hamster that immediately had babies. It was fun raising the little hammie babies with her, and giving them away to the neighborhood kids. Later, we had an area in our backyard fenced off as a bunny pen with 4 big rabbit hutches and a guinea pig pen. She loved living things and had the time of her life caring for them. Sometimes I even felt like she loved the animals more than me, which I realize is really silly of me. I know that because of her, I am an animal lover. She was the one who convinced my Dad to let us have a dog in our apartment. And she came with us to pick out our little Samson. She loved him! The day before she died, Samson and I came over for a visit, and she wanted to see him. Sweet Samson laid perfectly still next to her in her bed and let her pet him. I think he could tell that she needed his love.
She was always very supportive of me in my many activities, especially music! I don't think there was a cheerleading game, piano recital, science fair, softball game, dance recital, orchestra concert, quartet performance, or cello recital that she missed. She was always my toughest critique too! I loved talking to her about my performances because she was so observant, and loved telling me everything she saw, and what she thought of it. She knew the names of the people in my quartets, and the people who I cared about in the orchestra. She knew when things had gone well, and definitely knew when they hadn't. She would always tell me that if I would have just practiced more, I could be amazing. lol. I love that she loved music. I think it was in her soul the same way that it is in mine. I loved sharing my favorite songs with her on mix CDs or pointing out a favorite song on the radio. Some of her favorite songs have become my favorites too- Simon and Garfunkel, The Beatles, Bread, John Mayer.
She was so much fun. She was really into spontaneous fun. She loved waiting in midnight lines for the new Harry Potter books with me. One night Nathan and she and I stayed out all night, swimming at 24 hr fitness, playing truth or dare, and then climbing Ensign Peak to watch the sunrise. My sisters and her and I were making bread together once, and the dough turned out bad- somehow we ended up throwing chunks of the dough on the ceiling to see how long it would stick. We laughed ourselves crazy. She wanted to learn how to hip hop dance. I loved watching her try. She would make up little songs all the time- really good ones.
When I was probably about 3 years old, she make up a song for me to help me remember how to spell my name. Then she added verses to help me remember my telephone number, my address, my birthday, and my parents names. All to the tune of twinkle twinkle little star. She was amazing. And my song and I were the performing wonder of the neighborhood. "J-a-m-i-l-y-n... that's my name, it's Jamilyn!"
She got invited to stop coming to my cello lessons by my cello nazi teacher. She had been taking the most copious of notes, and asking all the best questions, and I guess she was driving my teacher crazy. So one day he told her that she didn't need to come any more. And from that point on, she would drive me to lessons, sit in the car while I was in the lesson, and then drive me home. I think she was a little offended because she had been trying so hard to do exactly what was right.
She wrote cards. I got a lot of cards from her. Valentines day cards, birthday cards, thinking about you cards, good luck on something scary cards, congratulations cards, miss you cards. She was really good with words, and knew exactly what I needed to hear in the moment. As a rebellious teenager, I got many a letter of council and parental warning. I knew I was loved because she spent time telling me how she felt and what she was thinking when she was thinking about me. I loved getting cards and packages from her when I lived in Michigan. She sent new slippers when it started to get really cold. A new Easter Dress in the spring, and a big bouquet of roses on the day of my Masters recital.
She came to visit me in Michigan to reward herself for finishing chemo. We picked fresh raspberries and learned to make fruit leather. We skipped church and went to the beach. We watched fireworks on the beach. We walked the Kal Haven trail. We played with Gloria. We wrote letters to Nathan. I loved having her come visit. I missed her a lot while I was gone.
She was really good at giving gifts. If you ever mentioned anything that you might have ever thought about needing (or wanting), she probably would buy it for you and gift it to you soon there after.
I loved watching Little Women with her. It is a me and Mom classic favorite. My sisters too. She always called the scene where Beth dies "Dead Beth." And we would always cry when we watched it.
About a month before she died, we went and saw The Help together in the theater. I had read the book while I was in Germany over the summer, and I really wanted her to read it too, but she said that it was too hard to concentrate for that long, so she never got around to it, but I'm really glad that she came and watched the movie with me. She said she couldn't believe how patient I was being with her as she walked at snails pace through the parking lot. And we basically bawled through the whole movie. For no good reason, I think. She really liked it. I know she would have loved the book too.
She was amazing at the alternative treatments that she tried near the end. We watched a documentary together called Fat Sick and Nearly Dead that talked about drinking fresh juice for healing. She said she'd be willing to try it, so she got a juicer. One day soon after that, I made her some juice from beets and beet greens, kale, tomatoes, and an apple. A neighbor friend was also there that day helping out, and she said I should try the juice before I gave it to my mom. One sip as DEFINITELY enough for me. It was the nastiest thing I've ever tasted. But she drank the whole thing without hardly a complaint. We also tried grinding up all of her pills into juice when it got too hard for her to swallow things, and I'm sure that tasted nasty too, but she wanted to keep trying it. Because of that, I know that she was courageous and full of hope that she could get better. When I told her that she didn't need to keep drinking the juice or taking the pills for me, she cried and told me that she wanted me to still be "on her team." That she didn't want me to give up on her. I know she wanted to stay around for all of us, but her body just wouldn't let her.
She told me that she felt lucky that she would get to see my children before I would. That's not fair, huh?
We went to see the lights on temple square together in December of 2009. It was the first time that she had ever learned how to tie a scarf, and so we both wore scarves and our furry hooded coats. She had just found out that her cancer had come back, and in the car ride to the temple, we both cried and cried talking about it. She was scared and angry, but she said that she also felt at peace about it. I was scared and angry and wished I could feel peace.
A few weeks before she died, Nathan and I took her with us to do a session at the Jordan River Temple. She was nervous that things would be hard in her wheelchair, but the workers were all so helpful and friendly and understanding. I was glad that I got to help her get dressed, because she helped me dress on the day I went to the temple for the first time. I'm glad that she got to be there for that, and that I got to be there for her when she needed me to. When we were all through, she sat and gave a prayer of secret gratitude. I am really grateful for that memory. Nathan's Mom told me that I will always feel her close by in the temple. I went there again this Wednesday, and I can tell you that it is true. She is not far away. And even less far away in the temple.
Another temple memory- on the day I went to the temple for the first time, we spent a lot of time in a waiting room before things got started, waiting for the temple matron to come and welcome us. On the wall, there was the painting of Gabriel talking to Mary at the well... or is it Jesus talking to Mary? I don't remember. But we talked for a long time about how she must have felt in that moment- excited and scared and overwhelmed. We talked about how that was exactly how I was feeling in that moment. And we cried that we were able to share that together. I'm so glad she was able to be there for that day. And for my wedding day too! My dress got filthy when we were outside taking pictures in the snow and the rain. She helped me find a place in the Temple that would let me clean the bottom of my dress- the laundry room with hand towels and hand soap- and then dry the soaking wet silk after it was clean- the baptistry with the blow driers. Ha, that's a good memory of her "never throw in the towel" attitude. While I was getting ready for the reception, she was getting ready too and freaking out that her hair or her make up or her outfit or something wasn't looking right. Because of her freak out, she was late for pictures, and I didn't get help putting on my veil. Because of that, I didn't wear my veil at all on my wedding day. Sometimes she was silly.
Not all of my memories with my mom are golden. We argued a lot- over stupid stuff. Mostly because one or the other of us was being far too sensitive. She made funny sounds when she swallowed that didn't seem to bother anyone but me. When she was into helping Romanian orphans, I felt like she had given up on loving me and needed to replace me with other children. And that put a big wedge between us for a long time- most of my Utah State years, actually. I was really dependent on her approval, probably too much. She often accused me of lacking tact and tolerance.
But despite all of that, I still love her! I miss her terribly. She cared about things in my life in a way that no one else ever will probably. She understood me better than anyone I know. We were "kindred spirits!" I could write a years worth of blogs about my memories with her. And I'd probably cry through each one. I'm glad that I picked the mom that I did- I'm sure I picked her before I came here, because she is exactly the mom I needed. I'm glad that I knew her and learned from her and am a lot like her. I wish I could have had a lot more time with her. I'm a little scared to someday be a mother without her wise council and support. I'm a little lonesome when I have an insignificant detail about my day that I want to talk to her about or get her advice on. I'm a little sad when I read old cards or favorite books, or listen to favorite songs.
But I'm also really at peace. I finally have the peace that she felt on that night that we went to see the lights together. The peace doesn't negate the sad, but it makes it easier to handle. I'm glad that she's not in pain any more. Does that sound trite? I feel like I've said that to everyone who asks me "how are you doing?" I'm glad that she isn't trapped in her body that was full of sickness. It was hard to watch her struggle to talk or to remember simple things, or to swallow or try to get comfortable. I'm glad that she didn't have to suffer very long in comparison to some people's cancer suffering. I'm glad that I got to spend a lot of time with her near the end of her life- talking and watching shopping channels on TV and drinking juice and reading Fablehaven.
I feel like I have learned a lot lately. About God's way of answering prayer- not in our time, but in his. About being patient with those you love, even when it is extremely hard. About giving-and accepting- service to/from those who need it. And about pressing on in life even when things are not easy. School needs to be finished. Dishes need to be cleaned. Music needs to be practiced. Puppies need to be loved. These things keep going on, even when your Mom dies. But I know that this life isn't the end. Our heavenly Father loves us and has made a way for us to all be together with him again. I know that is where my Mom is. And I can't wait until I can run to her and give her a big long hug again. And it will be a tight one- not worrying about if I'm hurting her or not. I think we might never let go.
