My Mom

Throughout my years as a young parent, I would call my mom on the phone and share with her my frustrations or  difficulties.  Most of the time she just listened, sometimes she gave me and advice, and sometimes she just tried to let me know she understood that parenting can be difficult.  She came to visit when I needed her, whether for the birth of a child or for a daughter's surgery.  I knew I could count on her.

In 1996, she received the diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis.  This proved to be life altering, but she fought this disease for as long as she could.  In the last few years of her life, the MS took over, exerting more control over her body and mind.  No longer could I rely on my mom to be my listening ear. When she realized that she needed a wheelchair, she fell into a deep depression. I became her listening ear.  I would call her and she would just cry and wish to die.  For three more years, we watched my mom suffer.  Over time, she lost much of her mobility and her ability to communicate diminished.  My mom and dad always taught their children to serve by example, and now we relished in the opportunity to serve my mom.

She worried when she first received the diagnosis about being a burden to her family, but my dad stayed by her side, focused solely on meeting her every need.  He showed a great example of unconditional love to which I shall ever be grateful for.  We gladly bore the burden of caring for my mom because she had always been there for us when we needed her.  Now, we returned that service.

Last August, my mom went in for surgery, but suffered complications from the surgery, and a quick stay at the hospital turned into weeks, followed by a rehab center.  I flew in to see her in October at the rehab center.  How glad I was to see her, but I hated seeing her suffer. I held her hand as she struggled through her physical and occupational therapy.  She said, “I can’t.”  I said, “Don’t say I can’t, say ‘I know it’s hard, but I’ll try.” That's what she had taught me throughout my life.

I did not make it back to hold her hand one last time, but I will forever cherish the weekend I spent with her at rehab—calming her anxiety, expressing my love, encouraging her to keep trying, and being there because she needed me.  She looked up at me when I arrived and said, “Ah, Kimberly’s here.” Yes, Mom I am here because you were always there when I needed you and now I am here because you needed me.

She fought a tough battle and caring for her was a burden we gladly bore simply because she was our Mom and Dad’s eternal companion.  She endured many challenges and I shall ever be grateful for a mom who taught me to serve, to love, to endure, to reach for my goals. I thank her for the example she was to me.