Friday, February 17, 2017

The Death of My Mother...

BIOLOGICAL MOTHER: Biological mother for humans, as in other mammals, occurs when a pregnant female gestates a fertilized ovum, or egg. Gestation occurs in the woman’s uterus until the baby is sufficiently developed enough to be born and then the woman experiences labor and gives birth.

Mother noun
1.   A female parent
  Verb
1.   To care for; to protect
Motherhood noun
1.   The state of being a mother
Motherless adjective
1.   Having no mother
Motherly adjective
1.   Like a mother; or suitable to be a mother

Mothers are supposed to be faithful companions and confidants in the most difficult of circumstances that their children find themselves in. All their children not just some of their children. Most mothers dedicate their lives to caring and providing for their children both physically and emotionally. During the hardest trials and times of a child’s life they always look to return to the loving caring arms of a mother.

“A mother’s arms are more comforting that anyone else’s.”
~Princess Diana

My mother, Jane, and I had a very distant and non-existent relationship. During the most difficult time of my life, when my daughter, my child, my flesh and blood had cancer I turned to my mother for love and support. What I wanted was for her to fly out here and hug me, to support me and tell me everything would be okay. But that didn’t happen. NO, I never asked, but I should not have had to ask. My sisters emailed me and asked me not to leave mom out that she didn’t know what to do. So, that is understandable since we had a strained relationship. How could I expect her to fly to see a daughter she had never visited before and a sick granddaughter she didn’t know?

When Heather threw a blood clot to her brain, I thought that was the worst and most scary day of my life. When things calmed down I called my mother looking for comfort, love and encouragement. She was not home and I left my number; as of today nearly 3,214 days later I am still waiting for that call from my mother. Of course we became estranged again during my daughter, her granddaughter’s cancer treatments. However, when Heather was in ICU everything that happened in the past didn’t matter anymore. Heather, my mother’s granddaughter, was dying and still nothing. Jane, my mother, had a granddaughter die and she never called or attempted to come to her funeral. There is a statement that says you can miss a birthday or even a wedding, but no one misses a funeral. It is seen as socially unacceptable. To me, this was unacceptable on any and all levels of basic human nature and caring.

So why then when I learned on Wednesday, 15th that my mother died on Sunday, 12th was I shocked and brought to tears. No, no sibling called me, as I am sure they felt I had no right to know. Well, regardless of anything that happened Jane is, was and always will be my mother. Period, end of story. I was her first baby, the first one to grow inside her body. It is a proven fact that the baby’s DNA or genetic material remains with the mother inside her body for the rest of her life. I know that during my mother’s illness last year that she did talk about me. I know this may be a very hard fact for my siblings, especially my sisters, to understand but I was probably never, ever out of my mother’s thoughts.

With the death of my mother, my dreams of a foolish child of ever having a loving mother came to an end. For 51 years I have kept the na├»ve thought that maybe one day my mother and I could have a relationship. Well, one day is gone forever. My mother’s obituary did not mention me, her 3 additional granddaughters or 3 additional great granddaughters. It did not mention the fact that Heather, her granddaughter, preceded her in death. It was a list of all her good works and deeds in a boastful bragging manner and sang her praises as the most loving and caring mother and grandmother the world had even known. “She loved spending as much time as she could with her family, in particular, her grandchildren. Jane never missed an activity that her children and grandchildren were involved in.”

Except for fighting cancer and dying for her granddaughter, Heather, when she was nowhere to be found. Except for the endless hours of doctors appointments, hospitals, shots and chemo that I, her daughter, dealt with for 6 months and then the final 33 days in ICU, when she was nowhere to be found. My sisters think that I am far away from their thoughts as well, but I promise every time they see a bruise or a swollen lymph node they think of me and they think it could happen to them too.


During the last almost 8 years since my beautiful Heather died I have had no mother to comfort me, to hug me or allow me to cry with her. While I have had other people fill this role, it doesn’t excuse the longing for the woman who gave birth to me to hold me and shed tears that her granddaughter died. I am saddened by the death of my mother. For 51 years I have lived without a loving mother and now my sisters can share and live the rest of their lives without a loving mother as well.