Miss you, Mom

My sister told me that since I wrote about my dad on his birthday I'd better write about my mom on hers, or I'd never hear the end of it through eternity.

That's where Mom is right now: eternity. She left the confines of time 10 years ago this month. I remember my brother Tom calling with the news that morning; I think it was a Thursday.

Mom had been in the hospital for more than a week after developing a painful blood clot in her leg. The hospital gave her Heparin, a powerful blood thinner. It worked too well.

We were told the drug caused a rare reaction, breaking up the clot into thousands of tiny clots that bombarded her kidneys and destroyed them. After several days of dialysis, sometimes several times a day, the rest of her body just shut down.

It was probably for the best, given the circumstances, but it was painful for all of us who loved her and were loved by her.

MLW called one of our pastors, with whom we were pretty close. She handed me the phone, and he asked me how I was doing. I told him I was OK. "You know it's OK to cry," he told me. "I know," I said, unemotionally. "It's OK to cry," he repeated. "I know, I know," I told him. "I'm just not feeling that way right now."

We waited a day before heading to Michigan, which I later concluded was a mistake. I should have been there with my dad and the rest of the family as soon as I could get there, but we only got there in time for the viewing and then the funeral.

My best friend from high school, Gonz, showed up at the viewing. I was shocked; I hadn't heard from him in years. But Mom used to drive him and me to school every morning, and at the viewing he and I laughed as we fondly remembered her utter inability to make a right turn without clipping the curb.

She and Dad also attended Gonz's wedding in Muskegon. Although he is emotionally rather clueless, I think he was touched that they made the trip. And they -- especially Mom -- seemed to have a great time.

Mom was a people watcher par excellence, which made wedding receptions and similar gatherings fun for her. While I wouldn't go so far as to say she spied on the neighbors, she did keep an eye on them and delighted in making up stories to explain what she saw in the absence of actual facts.

There's a lot I could tell you about Mom, but this post would go on forever. But I'll just say she's one of the funniest people I have ever known and illustrate the point with this one BBAA (Brief But Amusing Anecdote):

While Mom was in the hospital, MLW and I went to visit her. Mom wasn't always fully conscious or entirely present, but there were some exceptional moments. At one point while we were in the room she said she needed a Kleenex. The box was on her tray across her bed from me, so I reached across her to put it within her reach. As I did so, she noticed that my thumbnail was black.

"You hurt your thumb," she observed in a sleepy voice. I explained that I had smashed my thumb with a hammer.

"Oh," she said softly, "... stupid."