17 different women, 36 crazy children, 0 babies in utero
Adventures, Advice and Questions from a group of Mormon women who met in Queens, NY and have now scattered all over the place.
 

Thursday, April 27, 2006

I miss you mom...

It 15 years ago yesterday that I lost my mother to that dreadful thing called cancer. She was 42. I was 16. Not a day has gone by where I don't think of her and miss her terribly. All day yesterday I thought about things in a different way than I had before. Now that I have kids, I wonder about how It must have been for her knowing she was dying, and leaving me here virtually alone and at such a raw age. I do happen to know that one of her dying statements was how sad she was because she was not going to live to see me be Miss Universe. I didn't go on to acheive that, as much as I would have liked to, but I have acheived much and I have done most all of it for her. I promised her that I would do all that she wanted me to do as I lay curled up next to her holding her hand minutes after she had gone. When I met my DH I thought only about what would my mom think of him? I am confident she would have loved him. At my wedding I knew she was there in the temple. She helped me get ready. But I still selfishly wanted to see her in her dress she would have worn. When my babies were born, especially my DD, I cried and cried that first night not because I was a new mom and your hormones are out of whack, but I wanted her there, to hold her too. I thought about what my mom must have felt when she had me. And that first mothers day after DD was born was the hardest one to date. I knew finally what that day meant to mothers. I was haunted with the thoughts of had I done enough to make my mom feel special when she was here? Of course not. I was 16. I was just getting out of the "you are my enemy stage", I didn't get the chance to love her like I would if I had her here now. Now that I am a mother, I know what she must have felt as she was saying goodbye to me. She must have been terrified. Unsure that the guidance she had offered would see me through the toughest years of life ahead of me. She had to have wondered if I would remember her in all her glory. Sometimes it's hard to dig up those memories. She had been sick for so long. She surely sobbed when she thought about leaving me. I would! I would feel all those things if I knew I was leaving this earth tomorrow. I certainly would find it hard to have the presence of mind to remeber that it is all part of the plan. Babies shouldn't be without their mother. No one should. I pray that none of us will ever have to deal with this, but what can we do ladies to let our children know that they are loved. That if we were to leave that they would be okay? Just thinking about these things, has made me hold them tighter the last couple days. Don't live a single day where you would experience regret.

I really appreciate this forum and feeling comfortable enough to share these intimate thoughts. My journal is the only place where I have shared such feelings. I tend to not open up... thank you for listening. As we approach Mothers Day. Think of something special to do for your mothers. For me.

14 Comments:

  • Z-WHY did I come on here right after I put my makeup on?

    My DH lost his mom to the same thing when he was 25, and so I have seen the effects first hand. I am terrifed to die, not b/c I am afraid of death, but because I want to be the one to teach my children about life. Often my prayers are: Thank you for another day on this earth.

    Knowing you personally and the fierce love and loyalty that you show to hundreds of people who are nowhere near being your blood, I know that your mother does cartwheels of joy everyday watching you.
    posted by Blogger Kage at 4/27/2006 07:17:00 AM  



  • Zinone... your post was so touching. As someone who has been with you every step of the way and who knew your mom- she was a beautiful and wonderful person. She loved you SO MUCH!!! I tried to call you yesterday to let you know I was thinking of you... I know it is always a tough day. I can't believe it's been 15 years. I just have to say that you are the amazing mom that you are because of her. You make her so proud. You make me so proud, I honestly am in awe of you. I can't even imagine losing my mom right now at 31 years old. Let alone 16- you have overcome so much. I'm hugging my kids a little tighter and calling my mom today! Love you sis!!
    posted by Blogger Jules at 4/27/2006 08:20:00 AM  



  • Oh, Z, you made me cry. I wish I could give you a hug right now. I can't imagine what it must have been like to loose your mother at such a tender age. Thank you for your bravery in posting this.

    "Don't live a single day where you would experience regret." I love this statement. This will become my new mantra. My kids have been really difficult the last few days and I was hiding in the office reading this post and listenting to them cry and fight. I don't want them to remember me as a mad mom who is always frustrated. Just in case something happens, I want them to know how much I loved them. So I guess I need to leave the office and administer some hugs and kisses :)

    Thank you again sooooo much for posting this. I didn't know your mom, but I am confident that she watches the relationships you have with your friends and huge family network and is so proud of the woman you have become.
    posted by Blogger chloe at 4/27/2006 09:06:00 AM  



  • I'm so sorry about your mom. We've recently suffered a similar loss in our family. I miss the amazing woman who died but what makes me cry the most is thinking about her children and her husband and all of the small ways they will miss her that they can't even imagine yet.
    posted by Blogger Kathryn Thompson at 4/27/2006 10:19:00 AM  



  • Oh Z, I had no idea that yesterday was the day. It must have been so hard. ANd I just didn't have a clue.

    I read the Mormon "cult classic" Charly when I was a teenager and liked it, but when I watched the movie in UT a few years ago I sobbed hysterically at the end where she knew she was dying si she couldn't help but sleep on the floor of her sons room every night just to be close to him for one day longer. I can't even remember if that part was actually in the book, but now that I'm a mother, I just can't imagine having to go through that kind of pain and longing-I am sure your mom went through much of the same.

    Right now I can't wait for my little ones to go to bed so I can have my own free time. It's crazy how my feelings would change if I knew I my time with them would be shortened. Your post brings great perspective. I am going to try to cherish the little things more and be thankful for the time I have to be their mother.

    Thanks for sharing.
    posted by Blogger This is Carrie at 4/27/2006 10:48:00 AM  



  • Zinone--I had to read your post, and the following comments, in stages--they all made me cry so hard. I just had my first child--a daughter, and so your feelings ring very powerfully. I cried on the way home from the mall this morning because I was imagining a car accident in which I lost my daughter (just because I'm prone to paranoia these first few weeks of her life). So my feelings are very close to the surface.

    I'm so sorry for you loss, but, like others have expressed, have no doubt your mother is proud.

    I will cherish every moment with my daughter. I love holding her. I love telling her I love her. I can't help but tell her, I feel it so deeply.

    And Carrie, those heart-rending scenes in _Charlie_ were definitely in the book. I haven't seen the movie, but I remember those images of her on the floor near her son's crib from when I read it as a teenager.

    Wow. What am I going to do to stop crying now!? =/ I'll go hug my baby.
    posted by Blogger sunny at 4/27/2006 11:50:00 AM  



  • What a wonderful, heartfelt post. Thank you for being so candid and open about such a personal subject. Obviously your comments have touched many, including myself. I am going to have to hug & kiss my little guy even more than usual today. It's so true that we all have moments of frustration and wishing they would just take a nap, etc., so that we could have a moment of "me" time. Someone I know here lost a daughter to cancer, and she always says that everyday we have with our children is a gift from Heavenly Father. Your post is a testimony of that!
    posted by Blogger Beth at 4/27/2006 01:25:00 PM  



  • I've waited to comment because I wanted to pull myself together first. Zinone, this was beautiful, and I appreciate you putting this into words and sharing it with us. I know I've snuck into Max's room and climbed into bed with him just to watch him breathe, driving myself to tears thinking about the possibility that I might not see him grow up. We never know what may happen, and I have to agree with everyone who has commented here and thanked you for reminding us to live and love to the fullest each day. Your mom is smiling right now, just seeing how much you love your little ones and how much you miss and love her. Virtual hugs my friend.
    posted by Blogger marian at 4/27/2006 08:19:00 PM  



  • Zinone--I'm not good at these things, probably because I lack any experience with it myself. I din't even know your mom passed away so long ago--I'm so sorry. I hope that each day as you think of her the love can outweigh the sorrow. It must be so hard. I admire all that you've done and who you are. Many hugs from me.
    posted by Blogger Katie at 4/28/2006 08:12:00 AM  



  • zinone-
    I don't know you personally, but I want to thank you so much for your post. You have given me much to ponder, and as I sit here, crying, and trying to type, I have to tell you that I am truly sorry for your loss --and I'm amazed at your strength and your willingness to share all those feelings with us. Thank you, thank you, thank you...
    posted by Blogger Cheryl at 4/28/2006 09:05:00 AM  



  • When I was 11, my Mom and my siblings and I returned from church to find Dad’s headache was actually a stroke. He was dead two hours later. I will never forget the fear and pleading in his eyes. 36 and dying.

    It is so interesting to see how my twin brother and I have dealt with my father’s death. We were 11. When we approached our own 36th birthdays, we each had some trepidation. Major depression as every decade birthday approached 20, 30, 40, now 50. My twin has been fearful of death his whole life. He has lived for the moment. He has grabbed the cheap thrill. Drugs and alcohol.

    Somehow since that day, I knew that I too would one day have to face death. My approach is different from my brother’s though. I’ve been active in the church. I’ve served a mission and married in the temple. I’ve been a bishop and am now on the High Council. I’ve tried to prepare myself for the inevitable day. I hope I’m ready. I have severe migraines. If I miss church, my wife half expects to come home to find me dead.

    I look forward to the day when I can cross over and see my parents and my son who passed away six years ago. But I will miss my wife and kids.

    I wished my father could have ordained me a deacon, teacher, priest, elder, and high priest. I wish he could have been there when I went to the temple for my endowments and to be sealed. I wish he could have held my son. However, I think (wish, hope, believe?) that he brought my son to us when he was born. I sat in Intensive Care holding my mother’s hand and thought that soon she would be with her love. I realized then that I was happier for the reunion that she was soon to have than for the loss that I was soon to experience.

    I wish I could have put my arms around my son as he left on his mission. I can’t wait to see him again. I wonder if we’ll be missionary companions. He’ll have more experience in the spirit world mission field; does that mean he’ll be the senior companion?

    Since my son passed away, we always say I love you when we part. We realize that we may not see each other again and we want our possible last words to be memorable.
    posted by Anonymous Anonymous at 4/28/2006 12:37:00 PM  



  • Floyd, your comments are beautiful and moved me to tears. When I was little my parents always made a point of telling us "I love you" when we parted...just in case. I have carried on that tradition to my husband and now my children and it gives me so much peace. I remember being in NYC on 9/11 and having one brief phone call with my dad - all I said was "I love you, and I have to go". I felt peaceful that even if something happened to me that day I had expressed my love and that would be the last thing he remembered.

    Of course nothing happened to me but the lesson of expressing our love for our families and friends whenever we can wasn't lost on me. Thank you for your comments.
    posted by Blogger chloe at 4/28/2006 01:26:00 PM  



  • Thank you ALL for your tender words. They really meant the world to me. Those I know and don't know alike. Floyd I loved your post. It was perfect. I know I am not alone with these feelings and it is always a warm welcome to hear another's outlook. In some ways, I feel that my heartahce all those years ago was to help me become "that person" who always reminds friends and strangers to tell their family they love them. There is certainly no harm in saying I love you as you leave... I would hope that is my last words to my loved ones. THANK YOU again for being so kind, this was soooo healing for me.
    posted by Blogger Kelly at 4/28/2006 02:16:00 PM  



  • Thank you for shareing this beautiful post with us. My mother lost her mother when she was just 13, I know it shaped the way she mothered me, and I think it made her a better mom every day. And even now, sixty years later, I think she aches for the mother she lost much too soon.
    posted by Blogger fMhLisa at 4/28/2006 09:50:00 PM  



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