6 months.
How can it possibly be?
She’s been absent from this life for 6 months.
But I was so blessed a couple of weeks ago when I heard my mom's voice....audibly.
Yes.
I. heard. her. voice. out. loud.
I wasn't feeling well that day so I took a nap.
On top of feeling physically lousy, I was also not up to par in the mental health department…
I was missing my mom, terribly.
Side note: I never expected to miss her this much. It comes in waves, and when it does, I ride it out.
Anyway...
I dreamt of her. I don't recall anything specific, but I knew she was in my dream.
When my phone alarm went off, I awoke from my slumber to the sound of soft harp music (aka: my alarm sound)
and my mom's voice.
She was talking to me.
What?!!!
Surely I was dreaming.
Once I came out of my dreamy haze, I realized that I was indeed hearing my mom's voice…
crystal clear.
in the room…
It was coming from the audio book that she recorded for my kids a few years ago.
She had recorded herself narrating The Night Before Christmas.
I won’t even question how the book started playing all by itself from the book shelf.
There it was...her voice.
My mom's voice.
She sounded
healthy,
strong,
and full of life.
It had been a VERY long time since I heard her sounding so…
like Jeannine.
I mentioned this particular book a few months ago in one of my blog posts.
I’ll recap…
It was given to my kids at a time when she and I had a very strained relationship.
Our relationship was one, where on any celebratory occasion that required a card, I would dread having to search through every type of greeting card in hopes of finding one with
just
the
right
words.
There would never be ANY card with words that fit our relationship.
So I always chose the funny cards. Fairly impersonal.
Perfect.
I never understood the beautiful, close relationships daughters had with their moms.
Ever.
I just could not relate.
Sigh.
————————————————————————
Back to The Night Before Christmas book…
So, after receiving this book, which my kids adored and listened to over and over again, just to hear Grammie’s voice come out of it and speak directly to them, the last thing I wanted to hear during that rocky time...
was her voice.
Over and over.
I get such a pit in my stomach when I think about how awful things had been.
Of course, now I wish it would have been so different.
I wish we had had that beautiful relationship so many moms and daughters had.
You know that saying?...
Don’t live with regrets (or something like that).
This one hits me hard.
I have felt the pain of regret.
The no-possible-way-of-ever-changing-things-because-she-is-no-longer-here-but-I-wish-we-had-had-more-good-years type of regret.
I really only had a small handful of good years with my mom over my 47 years of life, including these last 2, which really had changed because mom was riding the slippery slope of dementia and it was mostly a one-way relationship.
But, then I am reminded that God had been SO faithful to heal our relationship over these last couple of years.
A complete change of heart.
So much grace.
——————————————————————
I keep going back, in my mind, to her last days.
Moments and images just pop into my mind.
No control over it.
One of the first beautiful moments I recall with mom was the first night I spent with her after hearing she only had 24-48 hours left.
Things were getting real.
She had been sleeping a lot and her waking moments were becoming fewer and far between.
I kept watch in a chair that was facing her bed.
I could not stop watching her.
I looked for any signs that she might be ready to take her last breath.
I watched her as she’d mumble in her sleep and reach out for things that weren’t there.
I watched her be completely still, and I’d look to see if her chest was moving up and down.
I was thinking about how I was not ready for this to be the end.
But there was no turning back.
I had to stay awake so I didn’t miss a single thing.
I was determined to be right there with her when she took her final breath in this life.
How exhausting is that! Both physically and mentally.
It was about 2am and mom suddenly woke up, looked over at me, and said,
“Wendi, you look so tired. Why don’t you go home and get some rest.”
That was the moment.
The beautiful moment where she said my name and spoke in such a gentle and nurturing voice.
Her voice.
This mama was concerned about her daughter and her well-being.
So personal.
So loving.
So beautiful.
This beautiful relationship between a mother and daughter was so evident
at
that
very
moment.
Blessed.
