Timing is everything

I have accepted my Mom's death, but I'm still working through the "why now?" timing. I want to feel my Mom around me. It's interesting feeling this way, and not being religious. I see how believing in Heaven and that one's loved one is there looking down, can be very soothing.

My Mom was at peace with the timing of her death. Earlier this year, she told my husband and me that if it was her time, she was ready to go. She felt she had lived a full life. Her big concern had been to see my brother and me grow to adulthood, and since I'm 40, that happened a long time ago.

But I wasn't ready to let her go. I remember during the two weeks at the hospital never thinking she would not pull through. Until the day before she died. Her leukemia doctor told us she wouldn't make it because she was experiencing multi-organ failure, and the drugs she was receiving were not helping her because her kidneys could not process them or get rid of the IV fluids. I could see this physically, but I couldn't accept it. I kept insisting it wasn't her time yet, but actually I was the one who was not ready for her to go.

My Mom and I didn't always see eye to eye. Still so many things about her inspire me: her grace, her optimism. Her love of travel and of people. We had grown closer recently, partly because I had started to do more traditional family things - getting married, starting to have children. Grandchildren were so special to my Mom. She loved the time she spent with my nephews, especially the young three year old. And two more were on the way.

Timing was everything. I blithely counted on her being with us for Thanksgiving and Christmas, but it was not to be. I am trying to take comfort in the cycle of life - my Mom made sure she knew that my brother's son was born healthy, and that I was far enough along in my eighth month before she passed on.

It's so hard to believe I won't see her again. Especially because we don't live in the same city. So she might just call me one Sunday. And if not, how she will live on: in me, in my baby on the way?

I love you, and I miss you, Mom.