It was early fall that year when Mommy started having headaches and other signs of illness that concerned her and definitely worried my dad. My sisters and I had just migrated to the US a couple months before to join Mommy and Daddy who were already living here for 5 years. I did not know what to think....
Later we discovered that the cancer had returned and had spread to her vital organs and brain. It was only a matter of time. I secretly prayed like a maniac almost daily, because it seemed that my idyllic world was about to come to an end.
The last week of her life she started shutting down. She was still home with us and we had to nurse her in every way. My grandmother was hurting, but had to keep a strong face as she watched her only child slip away from this life....
Then on that Thursday night, the week before Holy Week, we fed her her last meal - a cup of milk. It took one hour for her to drink it, and it was as if she didn’t even see us. She looked right through us, it seemed.
She slowly laid backward on the bed and I opted to spend the night with her. My dad was hard at work at his new job - the job she found for him before she became unable to function (and the job he still works - to this day). She laid across my chest, her bald head with hair just growing back. Her breathing was deep. We went to school the next day, and while we were in school my grandma called the ambulance. They took her to the hospital - to die.
One of my sisters and I saw our mother alive for the last time on the day before Palm Sunday, on our way to our part-time jobs. We walked into the room; it smelled of death. We were terrified, but we had to be strong; somehow we had to face what was about to happen to our beloved mother. We walked over to her and she tried to communicate with us. She was comatose, but very much aware of what was happening around her. She gasped for breath, labored long breaths. I leaned over to her and whispered a promise in her ear that I definitely plan to keep: "Mommy, I’ll see you in heaven." She moaned loudly, indicating she heard what I said and wanted me to know. I tried not to cry as Daddy led us out of the hospital room to the car and took us to our jobs.
Then on Palm Sunday, exactly 19 years ago on this date, at 5:00pm we received a call from the hospital. She was gone! We felt a relief, as we watched her life ebb away since that fateful moment early fall the year before. Grandma mustered all the strength she could to comfort us, and when she broke the news to our youngest sister, we heard her wail in such a manner that I hope to never hear that again.
On Holy Saturday, the eve of Easter, we stood in a cemetery in NJ and watched them lower her coffin. My sister, the one that follows me, had a wild look in her eyes. They quickly took her away from the scene. I lingered a bit after throwing in my rose. I felt as if I lost my very best friend. I didn’t know what to say or do nor how to act. People came and hugged us, some of whom we never saw again.
Those were her final days here on earth, but I have some very pleasant memories! She used to dance with us around the house "chorus girl-style" to songs on the radio or to little dittys she made up to show us how much we meant to her. I learned most of my earliest Scriptures when she would walk around the house reciting them in her melodious, powerful voice. My love for words came from her, an English teacher for many years. I devoured her bookcase - Jane Eyre, To Kill A Mockingbird and various other literary treasures - before I reached my teens. I learned how to play the recorder and we did many duets and trios with Grandma on the harmonica. We played Monopoly in the summer for DAYS - we’d stop the game and pick it up again the next morning. I learned Snakes and Ladders, Checkers and Parchesi from my mom. Scrabble was another of our favorites.
Her smile, her infectious laughter, her beautiful singing voice and her commanding presence soothed and disciplined us all at the same time. In Jamaica it is legal to administer corporal punishment, so plenty of that was given out freely when necessary. I remember the nights she stayed up with me as I struggled to breathe from my latest asthma attack. I remember how she consoled me when I had nightmares.
Mommy, you’re not here to see me now, but I think you’d be quite proud if you could. I’ve tried to live the life you taught me. I’ve made some wrong turns and did some crazy things, but you taught me LOVE. True, unconditional love, character and integrity.
I honor you today and everyday. I live my life in respect for what you’ve imparted into my spirit. (I remember you saying to me "We walk a narrow road as Christians, where we can fall off on either side of the road." I also remember you saying "If someone didn’t give you something or you didn’t buy it, it doesn’t belong to you - even if it’s a safety pin.") I thank God for your integrity and your humble spirit.
God, I thank you for blessing me with such an awesome mom who loved you with ALL her heart, mind and soul. I’m glad she’s with you now......