Momma’s Song
I had the kind of relationship with my mother that many daughters only dream of. Wemaintained a deep connection my entire life. She told me that even as a tiny child when Ireached out to touch the stove, I paused to look at her first and all she had to do was think forme to stop and I withdrew my hand. I was wild, certainly her daughter, and yet she neverclipped my wings. In her 70s she developed dementia and it was an excruciating long goodbyeover the next several years. I learned to sing my hello, so she would always know it was me,even though it sounded so silly to others. It worked well, and even when she couldn’t rememberanything, anything at all, she would perk up and know that it was me. I flew to see her everythree months to spend a week with her for the last years of her life. My brother would remindme she no longer even recognized him. But she always responded to my song.My daughter-in-love Nicole has lung cancer. She is stable right now and so we planned a trip toEurope. She always dreamed of going to the Louvre so we made the plans, complete with a tripto Disneyland Paris. Three weeks of fun planned down to the minute with business class planetickets.The day before we were to leave I got a call from my brother. I had been busy packing for thisenormous trip. Mom, now 95, was brought into the hospital, comatose at admission, it lookedlike it would be the end. I sat down hard, the news gutted me. I felt ripped in two but after deepconversations with my children, brother, sister-in law and my sister, I decided still to go. Momwas in a coma. I might not even get there in time. Nicole was packed and ready to go. I didn’ttell her.The next morning, I had to fly to Phoenix first to connect with Nicole and after spending the nightand we would fly on to Paris together. That evening, about 11:00 I could not sit still. I hadspoken with the hospice nurse just an hour prior, no change, mom was still comatose. But Icould feel her reaching for me. I ran upstairs to call again and ask that the nurse do a face-timewith me so I could see momma and say goodbye. She said no FaceTime but she would takethe phone into her room and hold it to her ear. She said she had just come out of her room andshe was resting comfortably and still unconscious. She walked to her room then said ok, shewas putting the phone to her ear. I sang my hello first then told her it was ok to go now. Shehad lived a wonderful life but now it was ok to leave. And of course, I told her I loved her and tocome to me with the birdies (something we had agreed on). The nurse came back on the line,audibly upset and stuttering she said my mother had just taken her last breath as I wasspeaking.I was absolutely tortured over the decision to fly to Paris instead of to my mother. Probably thehardest choice I ever made. But I knew her well and I knew without a doubt it would have beenexactly what she would have wanted me to do.And yes, she comes often to me with the birdies, and now she sings hello to me.
