April 16, 2006
An email from my mother left me crying uncontrollably this afternoon. In it she related that she is less and less able to do with out oxygen; that she is more and more aware that her days are numbered.
In the past few weeks she has had visits from her sister and surviving brother, as well as from nieces and nephews. There have been trips to Normal to see her grandchildren, and they have come to see her as well. I have been able to get over to Illinois twice, and I cherish that time spent with my mom.
Next weekend I will return to my childhood home again, to see my mom and continue the long gentle goodbye we have been sharing since she learned her cancer had returned and was terminal. In a letter I sent to her shortly after her birthday I shared some of my memories of her, and in her email and our conversations she has shared some of her memories and thoughts as well.
I know much has been made throughout history of a boys love for his mother. Not nearly enough has been made of the impact a mother’s loss has on her children. Even with daily juxtapositions between my desire to see and talk to Michele again against the reality of her death; I am unable to comprehend even for a moment what the world will be like when I can’t call home and talk to my mom.