Now It Begins

Today Connor and I were eating lunch together at our favorite place, Moe's. As usual, Connor was eating, bouncing in the booth, and talking up a storm. Not good table manners I know, but he's so darn cute. Anyway, a little boy and his mother came in and sat a few booths behind us. All of a sudden the little boy stood up and yelled, "Nana!". Connor stopped in the middle of a bounce and looked right at me. For a minute he stood still and my heart started to beat as I wondered what might be going through his three year old mind. Calmly he said, "Mommy, I wish God hadn't taken MY Nana to heaven. I wish she could come and eat with us at Moe's" My heart sank into my stomach and I looked down at my salad, willing myself not to cry.
This week has been extrodinary. Every day, I have had a sudden, sporadic, body shaking, episode of weeping. I guess I have finally began to realize what was, will be no more, and that there is not going to be any turning back. My mom is gone. For the rest of the time I reside on this Earth, I will be without her. I have pushed my emotions as far down inside of me as they will go, and it seems as though they are breaking free, quite without my permission. Thankfully as I feel the tears creeping up on me I have been able to run to a safe place, a place where no one can see me, especially my boys. I want to be strong for them. I don't want to bring up Nana to them for fear of making them sad, yet I don't want them to forget her either.
One image that I have pushed back into my mind is the last one that I have of seeing my mom alive. It was the Wednseday night that I moved her into the assisted living facility. That night was the first of what was to be several ice storms that we have had lately. I had gotten to the hospital to pick mom up around three. She was mad because as I had brought her a change of clothes up to the hospital to change into, I had forgotten to bring up a pair of underwear. I had the underwear and everything else that I had bought and brought from Birmingham to move her into her room that night. They were all packed in my car, and my car was way down in the parking lot of the hospital. It was freezing outside, I didn't have a coat, I had worked that day and was tired, and it was sleeting. As soon as she found out that I had forgotten the underwear she got mad at me, in the way that she always did and then I got mad back. I was tired and frustrated, it had been a LONG two months worth of driving back and forth from Birmingham to Gadsden. I had found her unresponsive at home twice, and had to force her to go to the hospital twice. On top of this I had spent two weeks finding a place for her to go that was not a nursing home, that would be nice and like home for her because I knew that she didn't want to leave her house. I had spent the Sunday before at Target, Bed Bath and Beyond, and JC Penney buying her new clothes because all of her old ones were too big, as well as buying things to decorate and fix up her new room so that it would be nice and make her feel better about being there. The week before when I had driven her to the assisted living to move in, I had to take her back to the hospital where I was picking her up that Wednesday. The fact that she was mad over underwear flew all over me. However, I went back down the elevator and out to my car to get that underwear because I knew it was the right thing to do.
By the time I had gotten mom moved into her room it was getting close to 8:00 and there was ice on the sidewalk and parking lot at the assisted living. I was worried about driving back to Birmingham. I had to work on Thursday and then I was taking my dad to Atlanta to pick up my half sister and neice from the airport. They were flying in from London, and it had been two years since I had seen either of them. All that to say that when I was with mom that night, I thought I would be coming back the next week to see her for Christmas, and I was ready to get her settled and have a normal life again. The sweet ladies brought her vegetable soup and cornbread to her room and I sat with her as she ate dinner. I made sure her comforter set was on the bed, her clothes, that I had rewashed to make them smell fresh, were placed neatly in her drawers. The new towels were washed, folded and hung in her bathroom. Her room looked nice, and she seemed pleased. She thought that she was only there temporarily, and I was playing along with her explaining that if she ate well and took her medicines and got stronger, she may be able to go back home. While she was eating and I was sitting on the bed she asked, "Why is this happening to me?" and I said, "Why is what happening to you?" she said, "This." and pointed around at the room. I started to speak and she said, "And don't even say its because of my smoking because I will start in on your weight. I couldn't be in this shape from smoking. Millions of people smoke and aren't in my shape!" I wanted to say that she had also drank more than she had eaten for twenty five years but I didn't. I just nodded my head and told her that she was just lucky to be alive and that she was blessed that we had found The Pointe at Goldenrod, and this nice new room. Then she said, "You know, I have been thinking and I want to be cremated." I was shocked and said, "What? Why?". She said, "Because I don't want to have bugs crawling all over me and inside of me. What difference will it make anyway?" I waved her off and said that I didn't want to talk about that right then. The assisted living had an open house that night and there were homeade brownies and chocolate covered pretzels in the lobby. I went to get her some of those and a big glass of milk. I walked back up to the kitchen and when I came back in her room she was laying on the bed, eating her brownies and watching the news. She told me that I had better get going if I was going to go because the roads were freezing. She stood up and told me thank you for buying her all of those nice things (with her money) and that she loved her new clothes. Then she gave me a hug. If I could go back in time I would have stood there and hugged my mom for an hour. If I only knew that was the last hug that she would give me. Instead, I barely hugged her because I could feel every bone in her back as I hugged her and it made me cringe. My last image of my mother when she was alive is her standing in the hallway, wearing the new white shirt and khaki colored velour pants I had just bought her, blowing me a kiss and waving goodbye.
Oh, if only I could run back down that hall and wrap her in my arms. I would tell her that I loved her over and over and never leave her side. Now I have the questions that inevitably would have come to me: Why didn't I stay longer that night? Why didn't I get to the hospital earlier to pick her up? Why didn't I sit down on the bed and talk to her instead of making sure her room was just right? Why, why why????
I know that there is no way that I could have known that would be the last time I saw her while she was concious. I also know that she is in a much better place now, and that I will spend eternity with her. So why am I tormented by the "What ifs" and "I should haves"??? This life on earth is cruel. I am so thankful that I know what lies ahead and that one day I will be sad no more. Until then, it has begun, this horrible down swift current of regret. Thankfully I have God by my side as I ride this current, and I know that He will see me safely to calmer waters. I just wish that I could get there fast.