My mom died last week.
It was not a big shock; she'd been in failing health for several years and my brother and I knew the end was coming soon. I rushed home, driving 700 miles in a downpour that had soaked the East Coast. She passed away before I got there.
I suppose that most everyone thinks their mom is the best one. I know I certainly had a good one. Gentle and soft spoken with the courage and inner strength of a thousand lions, she became a widow at 49 and worked two jobs for 25 years to keep busy and provide for us. She was a woman of simple tastes, never going for the fancy stuff in life. She never used a computer, never had a cell phone, and her greatest joy was telling people about her grandchildren. She was a woman of faith and she passed that faith onto her two boys.
Mom died 4 days after her 81st birthday. I called her to wish her a happy birthday and to let her know that her present--two gospel CD's--were on their way. She sounded strong and her mind seemed clear. As always, before I hung up the phone, I told her I loved her. While I knew those opportunities were diminishing, I still didn't think it would be the last time. But it was. My aim was to call her Thursday night to check on her but that call would never be made.
Anyway, I'm home now. The funeral's over, goodbyes said. Tomorrow I begin my normal routine again of work and family and writing. But I wanted to take a moment to tell you something about a special lady--one whose name will never go into history, but who deserved to.
Goodbye, Mom. I love you and miss you.