Saying Goodbye

It's been well over a month since I've seen my Mom. There is no real excuse, especially since she lives only five minutes away, but that is just a fact. We've been busy trying to make the most of our summer and quite frankly, it is extremely difficult to find the time to go visit her. Life as her daughter is different now. I am no longer mothered by her, consoled by her, or supported by her. She doesn't call to say hello or stop by with new clothes for the kids. It's been almost two years since she suffered her stroke, so you'd think I'd be used to that by now, but it hasn't even gotten a tad bit easier.

For as long as I can remember, my Mom has always put me first. Most of my childhood was spent with just the two of us (my brothers were in college and/or married when I was young). We grew up together, in a way, and eventually she fell in love again and got married. Even then, I have always been her first priority, her first choice...and that didn't always go over well with her other half. Now that he is responsible for her every move, her medical regimine, and her therapy appointments, he chooses what she does and when she does it. She longer gets to choose me. And that just breaks my heart. I know she can't help it (and she would give anything to be able to choose me again) but that doesn't change the reality. Life isn't about what she wants to do or where she wants to go. It's about someone else making her every decision. And I am not one of them anymore. I don't think I'll ever get used to that.

Maybe I have intentionally not seen her because I am scared. Scared to say goodbye. Scared to close the door (or let it slam in my face) to this chapter in my life that I've so desperately wanted to erase. Scared that life will never be the same. Maybe just her very presence is the tiny piece of her that I can cling to, that I can have as my own, that makes life with her seem a wee bit normal. And even now, I'm losing that. Losing a piece of me that I can never get back. It's like someone has stolen her and stomped on my heart in the process.

I've never been good at goodbyes, probably because I feel like they are so permanent. Especially this one. I'll never live in the same town as my Mom again. She'll never be at my kids soccer games or cheerleading comptetions, embarassing me with her excitedness. She won't be there when Landon hits his first home run, or Caroline wins the spelling bee. She'll miss taking pictures and wiping my tears when I send my babies off to kindergarten. She'll miss those milestones in my children's life that pushed her to move only several miles away to see. I never in a million years dreamed she'd miss all of these moments. And if she could choose not to, she would in a heartbeat.

I'm a strong person. I'll be fine (or I'll just stay busy enough to hide the pain). I am glad that through lots of tears, I told her that. I think in her heart, she feels like she is abandoning me. Leaving me for something bigger and better. But when you are paralyzed and aphasia/apraxia-stricken, what exactly does that mean? She'll be surrounded by her sisters and son and lifelong friends that I am sure will occassionally stop by to visit. But, I can assure that her heart will never be whole again without me and my children.

Next week, I'll say goodbye to my Mom as she moves back home. A lifechanging moment, for sure and one that I was sure she would have never chosen, this side of heaven. I have to be strong. I have to be brave. If not for me, for her. So, she doesn't live in sadness wishing she could be with me and 'whole' again. I can do it and I am hoping that saying goodbye won't be for long. I love you Mom and hope you know that everywhere I am, there you'll be.