Thirteen years--that's how long it's been. Thirteen years ago today, on the 15th of May, 2001, I saw my mother for the last time. She had been diagnosed with a glioblastoma--a nasty, aggressive brain tumor 5 months earlier. She had surgery in February to "de-bulk" the tumor, valiantly refused radiation when she knew it would only prolong her life but not improve its quality. She allowed us to bring in Hospice--they cared for her, for us for nearly 3 months. Between me, Patrick & Mary & Kathleen--one of us was always at the house with her and my father. The cruelest blow was that this tumor stole her speech away--in the last weeks she was unable to speak. Immediately after the surgery, we tried to do some speech therapy, the last good belly laugh we had together was working with flash cards. But by this day, she was silent--her eyes, those pretty blue eyes--just looked piercingly at you, straight to your heart.
It was time for me to go home to Williamsburg. Michael had brought the girls up on Mother's Day--2 days earlier that year--they were 4 & 5--and they said good-bye to her. We knew, Hospice had told us, that she was nearing the end of this battle. And so, late in the afternoon on that warm, sunny afternoon we sat on our back patio together. I told her it was time for me to go. I took her hands and I told her that I loved her and then I said, "I think there are some things you would like to tell me so I will say them. I think you would tell me that you love me, that you are proud of me. That you are happy that I married Michael, that he is a good husband and father. You would tell me that I am a good mom and that you love those little girls." She looked at me--her eyes said "Yes!" I hugged and kissed her and said good bye. I drove away crying and begging God to heal her. And He did--2 days later with my brother and father nearby, she died. I think of her so often and miss her and this time of year I remember those blue eyes looking at me for the last time.
