Today would have been my mother’s 68th birthday. That ill-fated morning of May 16, 1996 froze time in my mind. I can hear the sounds of the machines surrounding my dying mother. I feel the warm tears streaming down my face. The cries of my grandmother still linger in my memory’s eye as I watch her cling to her dying daughter. “Stay with me, Carol.” was her only plea. The smell of that ICU room is still fresh and as sterile as the moment I stood in that room at the foot of my mother’s death bed. Flashes of my distraught brother and father replay as if it was happening right at this moment.
I can give you every detail of her funeral. The smell of the flowers sprayed on and around her beautifully decorated casket. Amazing Grace playing so lovingly and surreal. I can remember the preacher reading The Velveteen Rabbit to the audience that included her 3rd grade class sitting ever so silent in the first row. It was a befitting tribute to a wonderful teacher, mother, and friend to so many.
Two weeks later, a glorious discovery occurred. I was to become what I had just lost. I was pregnant. Broken hearted because Mom wasn’t going to be there, I vowed nevertheless to be as good a mother as Mom had been to me. I was going to plant memories in my children of my mother through stories I will tell. I vowed to bake cookies, make jam and wonderful apple pies. I promised to be all that my mom stood for and believed in along with so much more for my children. Ultimately, becoming the best qualities of a grandmother and a mother all rolled into one. I wanted to be the living tribute to my mother.
My Mom was the best friend I ever had. She gave sound advice worth following I might add. Her laugh was contagious and I can still hear it in my mind’s ear even today. Oddly enough, at times my laughter sounds like hers. She was an artist in her own way….teaching. She could teach anyone anything at anytime. She was a model of all things good: the good wife, best friend, confidant, responsible citizen, dedicated teacher, and to be a “mom” versus “mother.” She was the one you went to if you needed anything. She gave her heart one piece at a time to anyone in need.
Daily, I live with the loss of her. I miss her more than words would ever express. Yet, I see her daily. When I look in a mirror I have watched my hair gray in the same pattern as hers. I see Mother’s hands when I look down at mine. I hear her cackle when I hear a joke. Even the way in which I hold my grocery list reminds me of her. Every time I open my recipe box, I see her standing over the stove seasoning our dinner for the night. She is still a big part of me even though she isn’t physically here today.
But more than that, I see her in how I live my life. I learned from Mom that family is the most important. She devoted her life to my dad, brother, and I. She never allowed her career to come in between us. She focused her life with my dad as a partnership. Something more than just a wife. She was his partner in all aspects. You never saw one of them without the other. She coached from the sidelines for my brother and was my editor-in-chief constantly keeping my writing in check. She supported our career paths and I truly think secretly she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom. However, that secret yearning didn’t keep her from being the best in the classroom. There is a wealth of knowledge that I learned from her that I apply to my life each and every day. It was because of her that I want my children to have the life they soulfully deserve.
Growing up, my family did not attend church. My mother was determined that if we were to go; we would have to go as a family. For one reason or another, perhaps, life getting in the way, we didn’t attend. I distinctively remember a time when Mom, my brother and I visited a church near our home. Mom broke down defeated that our entire family wasn’t in attendance. When I married Mark, I made it clear that if we are going to attend church it would be as a family. And we do. It was important to her and likewise to me.
There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t thank God for Mom passing away the way she did…..sounds kinda crazy….. I just poured out to you how much I miss her. However, Mom had a undiagnosed brain tumor. God spared her and us from the agony of dying from a brain tumor. Instead He allowed her to go quickly as she started chemo for breast cancer. At the time, I, naturally was upset with Him. But today, I understand His love for Mom, Dad, Jeff and I. We were ultimately spared and for that, I am grateful.
So what is left to say is just this…..
Thank You, Lord, for my Mom. You gave her life and took her away, in my eyes too soon. However, Lord, I now see the big picture and understand why You allowed her to die. I understand and I thank You, Father. The woman You wove as Carolyn Ann Cornett made an undoubtedly impression and impact on those who knew and loved her. She wasn’t perfect; yet, I wouldn’t have wanted any other good hearted soul to be my Mom. Thank You, Father for the 54 years she spent on this Earth.
In Your name…..
Amen
God Bless……
Well
