A year ago today was the last time I saw my mother alive.
It was Tuesday of Holy Week. I did what I normally did on a day I went to see Mom. I stopped working a bit early, then drove to the facility where she was, spent time with her, and then left. Our pastor was doing evening meditative services Monday through Wednesday, so after spending time with mom, I headed to the service.
When I saw Mom, I knew things were not going well. Though she had been getting weak, I could at least get her to drink something while I was with her. And I wound up getting there when they served her dinner, so sometimes I could get her to eat a bite or two of what she was brought. Or, again, get her to drink the juice they would bring with her meal.
But Mom didn't want to drink. She didn't really want to see any photos from home that I would normally show her. She just laid there, asleep, not complaining about pain or anything else. So I stayed with her in silence for awhile, until I had to leave to get to the service I wanted to attend.
I knew the end was coming. And during the meditative service I found myself not only weeping knowing what we were coming closer and closer to in thinking about Jesus' life but also that my Mother's life was coming to an end.
But what I dwell on the most are the last words I said to her.
I always told her I loved her when I left and always gave her a kiss on her head. Which is what I did when she was home and I went to bed. But I also always said when I would see her again. For Mom, I usually saw her Tuesdays and Fridays. So I would go, "I love you Mom. I will see you on Friday!" or "I love you Mom. I will see you on Tuesday!" But this time - because it was Holy Week, I wasn't sure when I would get back up to see her.
So, instead I said, "I love you Mom. I'll see you soon."
I regret that a lot. I regret not being able to figure out when I would be able to see her again so I could tell her that. I regret not saying more. Maybe because now I know that was going to be the last time I saw her alive I wish I had said more.
I wish I had thought to thank her for being such a great mother, despite the times we had our differences.
I wish I had thought to thank her for only thinking it a little crazy traveling places to see large organs and famous organists.
I wish I had thought to thank her for pushing me to do the things I wanted to do and for doing what she could to help give me time to finish assignments or have meetings even if it meant I wasn't home or locked myself in my room, much to the chagrin of Sparkle who would bark and cry at my closed door.
I wish I had thought to thank her for encouraging me to take over cooking the large meals at holidays, including making her famous mustard pineapple sauce. And for having me learn to make her Toll House Cookies.
I wish I had thought to thank her for a lot of things and not waited until it was too late.
