Mom

For my mom's 80th birthday she treated Sue and I to a cruise in Alaska.
That was her way, to always give more to us than we could ever give back.
That was Mom.

Day 58, awaiting the call for Anna's double lung transplant.

It is the morning after my birthday. Yesterday Anna said, "Mom, you have been reminding me that it is your birthday all day!" I took this mantle and played with it, exagerating the behavior reminding her even more. I guess I was doing that for me. It was MY birthday. It was the day MY life began 58 years ago. Here I am. This part of my life is so much about the struggle for my child's life. I have been in this struggle for 29 years. That is a long time to have this focus. But, I also know that has not been my only focus or identity in my adult life. There have been many, many other things that I have done, experienced, and witnessed that have been greatly fulfilling and joyful. I have been so fortunate. This is MY birthday though and I needed to feel that it was MY day and I think yesterday I was missing something. That was why I kept reminding myself of the day.

What I really wanted was to talk to my Mom, to feel her hug.

"Mom, we are here still. Mom, we are fighting for Anna's life and we are doing a pretty good job. I know how much you loved Anna. I know how much you "got it". You had so much pain about our pain. You wanted to take it away from me. I could never let you do that because it was mine, all mine. It is part of my story. But, your desire to rid me of it. Your wish that we could have no more disease in our lives, that we could be free from this burden was your mother love for me. I miss that, Mom. I miss your compassion and your generous gifts, especially at birthdays. I always had a special present to open from you. The last year you were alive I know that Greg and I did not get birthday gifts from you because you felt so ill. We understood of course, but you trained us to expect that yearly acknowledgment that our mom knew us in a special way. I know that Sue and Mike miss this about you too. I know we all wish we could forever hold on to that mother love that you gave to each of us in your warm and wonderful way. What would that birthday present have been this year from you? Would we have gone to lunch in Menlo Park at Angelo Mio's or in Palo Alto at the Cheesecake Factory? I would have chosen those places because you loved them so. They reminded you of a part of your past that was filled with good and grounded memories. It was that San Francisco part of you that feels so deeply like one of my roots. After lunch we may have gone on a stroll up the street and into a few shops. I would admire something and you would buy it for me because you loved me so much. Oh, Mom, I miss that. I feel the tug in my heart that wishes you could be here. I am feeling in need of that special love and touch into my root life that you were. I will always remember those special times, those ways that you loved me."

So, now my birthday feels more complete. I needed to say it. I miss Mom. This is tough.