Let me tell you about my mother...

Mom is at peace. She passed away on February 22, 2007...

My mom was born in a small Michigan town in 1937. She was the youngest and the only girl. Her mom was in her 40's when she was born and her dad in his 50's. Needless to say, she was not expected. Her four brothers were all born on the family farm. Mom was the only one born in a hospital, and I am sure she would have been born on the farm if her mother wasn't as old as she was.

Mom grew up on the farm and learned about life and death with the animals. She milked the cows and rode the draft horses. Her father had a heart condition at that time, and I can remember her telling me that she was always, "worried about daddy."

The brother closest in age to mom was eight years older than her. Her closest friend was her niece. The eldest brother was married and it was his daughter. They were only three or four years apart. Two of her brothers served in WWII.

Mom was a petite woman. Her brothers are tall and have faces of character. Her father was tall, stern looking, and bald. The latter trait is one I have inherited.

She grew up taking care of her parents. The brothers finished school and were off on their own, albeit still very close to the farm. This country girl learned strong morals and made friends with ease. She always had a smile on her face.

The petite Midwestern farm girl studied education with dreams of becoming a teacher.

Mom went to college, and it was there she met dad. They were married June 8, 1963

They began their lives in an apartment in Hollywood, CA.

Mom loved my sister (born four years later) and me unconditionally. She showered us with stories of her family, she would decorate the house on each holiday (Christmas being my favorite), bake cookies....

"All that I am or ever hope to be, I owe to my angel Mother." -- Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)

I remember mom staying up with me when I was sick or scratching my back to help put me to sleep. When I was picked on in school or made fun of by the neighbor kids, she was always there.

I also remember not appreciating her love. I remember her taking me to see some horses, and I didn't want to. It hurt her feelings. It made her cry because I didn't want to, and I was an unsympathetic child. She had the day planned and I had ruined it.

Mom just gave and gave. She spoiled my sister and me. All my friends thought of her as a saint.

When I moved out of state for the first time she came to visit me. She sent me a little pre-decorated Christmas tree, flew out on Thanksgiving, and called me often--very often. If we had email back in those days, it might have been daily communication, but back then it was telephone or letter only.

I moved back home, and once again my mom was there. She helped me get my first truck. She helped me when I was down and depressed, and when I was short on funds. She liked every girl I brought home; she judged no one. It was during this time that we all noticed she was beginning to forget things.

In 1996 I got married. My wife and I moved to Alaska. Mom came up to visit the following year. It was her last big trip. It was soon after that that she was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease. Mom was only 57.

AD takes hold and moves faster in the early-onset patient. Soon after mom's diagnosis she was no longer working, then no longer driving, then the dementia set in, and she could no longer cook for herself, or groom herself, or recognize when she had to go to the bathroom. The silence came last.
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(written prior to Feb. 22, 207)

She now sits all day at the home of a very caring woman because four years of 24/7 caregiving by my father almost killed him. This woman cares for 3 other ladies, all of whom are significantly older than my mother. Dad goes and sees her almost 3 times a week. She is now 67.

Mom sits in her chair in front of the tv. She has no idea what is on. She's fed, she wears diapers, and walks only with assistance; then it is to and from the bathroom, and from her bed to her chair.

She looks like my mom, she sometimes laughs like my mom, and when I look into her eyes I see mom in there somewhere.

Mom, I am sorry if I ever let you down. Thank you for your love and for making my childhood, my life, like a Christmas Eve special. Christmas is always yours, and the sugar cookie recipe is yours. Thanks for accepting my wife in the family and loving her... thank you for being you... I wish I could talk to you again... I miss you so much...

The point is this: mom's are special... mine is a saint.