The Grace of Mary

She believed that there was good faith, 

good heart, good hope in all citizens. 

She gave the world a lot more credit 

perhaps than it deserves,

but that was her way...

-Bruce Springsteen

The greatest hero of my life, my mother, died three years ago today.  It humbles me more than a little to realize that I am incapable of authoring a tribute to her, given all that she meant and means to me, which rivals that of Mr. Springsteen's...written of course not for my mother but for his.

I have missed Mom every day since she died.  Among my greatest treasures is the fifty-seven second voice mail message she left me on November 17, 2016, during which she went to great lengths to (a) assure her then-forty-nine-year-old youngest child that the latest bit of bad news her doctor had just shared with her was not nearly as bad as it sounded; and (b) admonish me against calling her back to discuss it in more detail as she did not want to impose upon me.  I listen to it every now and again, simply to hear her voice.  I listened to it as I wrote this.  I typed through tears for several minutes afterwards.  

Thanks to Kara, who was with Mom in the hospital during the final hours of her life, I was able to say goodbye to Mom. I told her how much I loved her and how much I would always love her one final time. When we hung up, I sat on the couch in the living room of our house in Lake Como, alone, and wailed uncontrollably.  After several minutes, I telephoned Margaret (who was home in Middlesex), told her what had just happened, and that I was heading north to her.  While driving up the Parkway to Middlesex, I touched base with Jill and invited myself onto an all-night road trip to Florida (Wilma was not cleared medically to fly) to support Kara and to see if we might be able to see Mom one final time.  

We were not. Kara called before we had cleared Delaware to tell us that Mom had died. 

We are three years deep into the "AFTER this".  My heart still aches.  I presume it always shall.  Pain is powerful and, also, useful.  It triggers memory.  It helps guide me through my day-to-day.  I no more want to disappoint Mom than I did during the fifty-plus years we had together.  I want to make sure that I do all I can to ensure that she remains as proud of me as I have always been of her.  

It is not a burden.  It is an honor.  

One that I shall carry with me all the days of my life. 

And she'd be looking down at me with a look

that for me, was like the grace of Mary.

Made me understand for the first time, 

how good it feels, feel pride in somebody that you love,

and who loves you back, ya know. 

-Bruce Springsteen

-AK