Moments that change you

I have thought a lot about the events that happen in ones life that shapes who they become.  These events are filled with moments that can be recalled with amazing clarity.  These moments, when thought of, can bring the same joy, sorrow, or tragic emotions back as if they were happening in the here and now, that is how clear the memories are.

Let me share with you one of those events:

I was eleven years old, on the verge of entering that crazy world of adolescence.  I had just started the sixth grade, you remember the sixth grade, everyone is a little awkward and trying to figure out where and how they fit in.  You absolutely so do not want to be different.  It was evening and I had just got out of the shower and the late summer air was surrounding me from the open windows.

My mom and dad were in Mexico.  My mom had been receiving treatments for the cancer that she had been fighting for nine months.  My sister and I were at home while my older brother, who had graduated the previous spring, was at work.  As I was looking through my closet thinking about the ever important decision of what I would wear the following day I heard someone come into the house.  It was my 2nd oldest brother and his wife.  I had a sick feeling.  I didn't want them there, I knew that there was only one reason for them to be there, and I didn't want it to be true.  I don't remember the words that were said, it didn't matter, she was gone.  My beautiful mother was gone.  I don't recall yelling or screaming, or saying the word "NO!" like I imagined I would.  I do remember the tears, the never ending supply of tears.  They offered to stay the night.  I don't remember if they did.  Somehow it didn't matter, I was alone.  I could have been surrounded by a thousand people in that moment and I still would have been alone.

I decided to go to school the next morning.  A decision thought odd by many, but I knew I didn't want to answer the door when the cookies and casseroles started to arrive.  I didn't want to look into the eyes of the women who had come to my home to help my mom quilt and can and see the hopelessness and the sadness.  The look that said silently "You poor little girl, you are alone now".  I rode the bus and sat by myself and looked out the window.  I gazed into the beautiful blue sky and thought that my life would never be the same.  I thought about school dances and graduation.  I thought about getting married and my own kids that I might have one day, and I knew that there would forever be a gaping hole. Tears once again came.

When I arrived at school I don't know what I expected but I don't think it could have been much worse than what happened.  I walked into my classroom and there were whispers all around me.  Then my teacher looked up from her desk, surprised to see me and said, "didn't your mom die last night?"  I was so shocked, and taken aback.  I whispered "yes", and she then responded "What are you doing here?"  I thought I had done something wrong, I didn't know how to answer her.  There were no kind words or moments of understanding at school that day.  Just odd looks from people and the reminder that I was very alone in this. It was a very long day.

I was befuddled, confused and didn't have anyone to comfort me.  That is all I wanted.  Our family wasn't exactly a touchy, feely family, but I was, and my mom had always been there for me.  She was the one who would hug me and let me cuddle up next to her when she was on the couch.  Again, I was reminded of my solitude.  I looked forward to my dad coming home.  I don't know why because I really didn't feel close to him.  He was always working, very quiet and I never spent time with him.  But he was my last connection to my mom.  He had been with her when she died.  I guess I had hopes that she had given him a message for me or something.  He was coming home with my oldest brother.  I sat at the front window with the drapes blanketed around me waiting, watching, breathing.  I saw the car pull up and park.  I ran, out the door, down the drive way and straight into the arms of this man that was in many ways a stranger to me.  Yet we had a connection, we needed each other.  Sobbing I buried my head deep in the hug, and I heard him say over and over "Oh dear".  We walked together into the house and my awkward, to old to be held, 11 year old self climbed onto his lap.  "Oh dear".

The funeral was planned.  We gathered as a family around the woman who held us together, and said our last goodbyes.  I had written her a poem for mother's day and I placed it in her hand as someone slipped off the turquoise ring she always wore.  They handed the ring to me and I put it on my tiny finger.  It would be years before it would fit me.  They were ready to close the casket and I couldn't breathe.  I couldn't breathe, I didn't want to breathe.  I once again found a place in my dads arms.  We clung to one another as we followed her for the last time.  Beautiful words were spoken and songs were sung. And oh so many tears were shed.


When it was over and returned to the church for lunch, I am sure that we ate ham, cheesy funeral potatoes, and jello with whipped cream on top but I didn't taste anything.  I was very aware that my childhood was over.  At least the childhood that I knew.  I sat quietly watching life go on.  I didn't know if I could.  Then a cousin came by, touched my arm and asked if I wanted to go outside.  I followed the group out into the sunshine.  There on the grass in our Sunday dresses and ties we played tag.  I laughed for the first time in what seemed like eternity and I knew that I would adapt.

Those few days in the early fall of 1985 certainly shaped who I am today.  I was faced with my greatest fear and survived.  I became fiercely independent and quickly learned how to take care of myself.  I understood that life was oh so precious and that love was meant to be expressed.  There were many challenges that came because of this experience, yet so many blessings.  The blessing are what matter.  The blessings are what shaped me.  The blessings are what allow you to see farther and become what the Lord knows you can become.  I love my mom, I miss her, I long to see her again.  Yet, I would not want to trade who I am.  I am grateful the Lord knows me better than I know myself.  I am grateful for moments that shape you.