Missing Mom

This is not a post about quilting today.

Two years ago tonight I was in Reno caring for my mom who had come home from the hospital that morning.  On the 10th of March she had fallen in the wee hours of the morning, knocking herself out and splitting her head open.  My dad called the ambulance and got her to the hospital, but she wasn't doing well.  I had just driven to Florida to begin my pet/house sitting for my daughter, Tristan, while she was deployed to Afghanistan.  The night of the 10th, Tristan called the hospital to find out how her Nana was doing and the nurse told her that if she wanted to see her Nana again, she needed to get to the hospital that night.  Well, that was a bit difficult with Tampa being on the other side of the country!  Undaunted, she got on the phone and worked with a travel agent...at 3 AM on the 11th we finally got tickets on a flight leaving Tampa at 7 AM (and I still can't believe the price on a one-way ticket!), making it to Reno by noon.  We got a rental car and drove directly to the hospital.  My best friend (she was at my first birthday party), her sister and mother were with my dad at the hospital.  At first my mom didn't know who I was, but she told me my hair was pretty, "just like Susan's" she said.  I told her that my hair was like Susan's because I was Susan.  After that she seemed to know who I was.  My daughter, however, got to play the role of all of my daughters that day. 

On Saturday morning we had a hospital bed and oxygen delivered to the house and set up in readiness for my mom coming home from the hospital.  Mom was home and comfortable by noon.  When Tristan came over, Mom knew her immediately and told her that she needed a little nap before she got up to make cookies for Tristan to take with her to Afghanistan.  Tristan totally lost it because Nana always sent her cookies on all of her deployments and she knew she would not be getting any cookies from Nana again.  Amazing how a few hours of baking cookies on my mom's part translated into such a concrete example of her love for my daughter.  That was really the last time my mom talked to us.  I spent the night on the couch in the family room with my mom so my dad could sleep.

Sunday, March 13, my dad hurried out in the morning to run to the store.  He came back home with a beautiful bouquet of roses for "my lady".  My mom always loved to get flowers and roses were a special favorite of hers.  When a nurse friend came over to visit, I got her to help my turn my mom over.  We put the roses on a table a foot or so from my mom's head, she opened her eyes and saw the flowers and when we told her that my dad had bought them for her, her eyes widened and she smiled.  That was the last time she opened her eyes.

Right before 5 PM, while my dad and I sat on the couch in the family room, I noticed that my mom's breathing was slowing and I told my dad that she was going.  We each held a hand while my mom took her last breath and easily slipped away from us, going home to her Savior.  At 89, she had lived a long, happy life and was ready to go home. 

My dad, almost 92, is still living on his own and going to work most every day.  My husband and I are planning a cruise with my dad later this spring.  My oldest daughter will be presenting us with a new baby this May or June.  Tristan is planning on getting married in July of 2014 and wants her Papa to walk her down the aisle.  Life goes on, but there is an empty space that only mom can fill and I'm really missing her.