Mother's Day 2009

I knew Mother's Day would be hard. I had no idea how hard. Though I haven't been sitting around sobbing, I do feel a gigantic void that is extremely overwhelming.

I'd like to take a minute to remember my Mom the way she was before Christmas day. Before the memories of cold hospital hallways, the pungent smell of hand sanitizer and the constant beeping of machines filled my mind.

She was one of a kind. A spitfire. A Type A to the max. She never did anything for herself. Her life was devoted to her family. Every moment of every day she took care of us, and her own Mother who is now approaching 89 years old.

In December we went on a trip of a lifetime. It was meant to be a trip for the 4 women on my Mom's side of the family to share. I told her time and time again it was the trio of a lifetime- because my Grandma was 88 and we may not have many more chances to all be together.

Such irony in those words now.

When I say that she made me the person I am today, I mean it. Her determination, her strength, her ability to remain calm in any circumstance are things that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.

About 12 years ago we went through one of the roughest times we had ever had. She and I lived alone together, but still managed to run the house and pick up the pieces that were left of our separated family. We had decided to donate our old car to the Kidney Foundation. They were coming to pick it up the next day. We had two problems: the car was in the garage and would not start, and there was a gigantic acetylene tank in the back that my father had used for work.

We pondered how we would more this several hundred pound monstrosity from the car. Then we kind of looked at each other and knew it had to be done. I am positive that we removed it from the car with nothing but sheer determination.

When we got it out, she turned to me and said "Don't ever let anyone tell you you need a man for ANYTHING."

Those words have been with me everyday since she said them. Every flat tire, every broken down car, every household mishap big or small, every doctor I've fought with to keep my quality of life- All of it come from those fateful words.

The saddest part of not being able to have children is not being able to share her wisdom or her strength. So today, I share it with you, my friends and family, who have helped me everyday of the last five months. The longest five months of my life.

Thank you for letting me share a bit of my beautiful mother, Linda with you today.

xoxo
Karin