I was asked to write something nice about my mom. "Her mom is in heaven, she can use mine" are the pure words of a innocent loving heart, from my friend, my sister by God, Jen Slepicka.
What I find soul shattering is that whenever there comes a point in my life that is either difficult or just a path I refuse to continue down, Jen grabs my hand and says 'We can do this, I'm here for you.' Each and every time. I honestly want to quit questioning these reasons, but still find it so moving. She knows when I'm not 'right;' it gives me goose bumps. When I have scary or lonesome thoughts I swear I get a text from her. My brother died, I spoke to no one, I get a text "you're not OK I feel it, whats wrong. Something happened." I have this bond with her no one will ever get. That is special to me...x3.
I can smell my mothers perfume, even the smell of her lipstick. Always carried the blue Extra gum. Hair in perfect placement (that is where I get my obsession of my hair!) Perfect make-up and dressed just right. She was a stunning woman.
When we as kids didn't feel good, we would sleep on her side of the bed, she had this natural smell to her that I wish I could bottle up, it made all of us feel better. She kept our home in perfect order, so very organized. Just a great system I wish I could just stick to. We were never touched as kids, as far as spankings go, my dad is 6'6" mom 5'3". She is who we feared. I think we just didn't want to disappoint her. Though we all did, more often than we should have.
Her birthday was December 2. She hated her birthday. "It's too cold to do anything, it's dark outside, no sunshine no birds. Nothing." So as we got a little older, we moved her birthday to end of May. That way she could get the gifts she truly wanted... flowers. And lots of them! Each year there after this is what we did.
Each year for Mother's Day, we went to brunch at Pheasant Run. Just a beautiful place as an entire family to focus on enjoying our Mom. We would come home and she would get flowers. Then just a few short weeks later it would be her birthday. A trip to Builders Square and Franks Nursery were the mandatory stops. We would walk for hours, up and down each aisle pointing out our favorites. Flat by flat we would fill up the cart. Then there was the soil and mulch. This was the best part, then as we pulled up to the house we knew what was to come...pulling the weeds. Yuck! all around the flower beds and the worse part... around the pool. It all paid off, the yard looked amazing.
As an adult I don't know where to start. My mother got me to the age of 18, I became an adult, had my own child a year later. I was now what I dreamed to be. Just like my mom, minus her perfection. She was now my best friend. Three kids later I get the worse news of all, "Brooke ( hardly able to understand ) it's cancer, I have stage 4 terminal colon cancer, I don't want to die..." I don't remember the rest of the conversation, my newborn was just a few weeks old. I called her dad. I screamed, I cried. Part of me died.
A year later I moved myself and the kids into her house in order to take care of her. I was pregnant with my 4th and needed her to stay until he was born. My mom delivered the other 3 and I didn't want him to miss out. She had chemo the day he was born; this was one of the many lessons placed before me of having to do things on my own. I hated it, yet appreciated the fact she wasn't totally gone yet. Logan was born; two months later my mom left. She died in our home as I was her hospice caregiver.
She brought me in this world; I would be damned if anyone else but me took her out.
It was a beautiful June day. Not a single cloud in the sky as I made the calls to let everyone know ' Mom returned Home' I knew she was dying, so it's not that I am sad that shes no longer in pain and with God. I just hate Mother's Day. I just want one more day with her. A day she will understand and remember. Where cancer doesn't ruin our memory.
That is until . "She's with mine, looking down, smiling, saying We did it. They turned out well." Such simple words, from another 'Mother-less' mom.
So it is this year I will celebrate Mother's Day this Sunday actually, a tradition I will create. So when next Sunday comes, you can find me outside planting flowers alone with my mom, Grammy's (Stephanie) mom and all the other Moms you cant see, but I can sure smell mine and forever see her in my heart.
So the question asked, "What makes your mom special?" My Mother is special to me for this single reason, she has made me who I am today. She gave me a heart that has endless love that wants to help others. She gave me the breath to go on and live my dream to change the world. She gave me the courage to take on my deepest fears. If it were not for my mother I would never have learned how to be a mom, with the most amazing kids ever.
Simply put.... She is special because she is.