I sat, legs folded underneath me on the floor, next to my Mama, contemplating what this meant to her.
"Bother" in Foxy terms, means:
"I am sorry this is taking so long."
"I am such a burden."
"I am taking you and the boys away from your families."
"I can't even do anything to help you."
And all I could think of was this: nothing could be further from the truth.
If you know anything about my Mama, it is this: Foxy wants to be a bother to no one. In fact, when my Mom was first diagnosed with Cancer, she was hell-bent, on being in "a Home" in the end. This would ensure in her mind, that she wouldn't be a "bother" to anyone.
And while my Dad, my brothers, and I, gently coerced her, that taking care of her throughout this process, and especially in the end, would be a blessing, a pleasure for us to do so, she insisted that she didn't want that. She would rather have a Health Aide bathe, dress her, and change her sheets.
Of course, no one could have predicted the amazing Cloak of Grace that my Mom dons, that has changed all of that.
As I think about how the last two years have played out, I realize exactly how lucky and blessed, I truly am. I view my brothers, their spouses, my nieces and nephews, my husband and my girls, but especially my Mom and Dad, in a completely different way.
While we each have different gifts, the tapestry of how we are connected, binds us to each other. And without that connection, we would each just be loose threads, lifeless, stranded, and without purpose.
Lovingly, I refer to my brother Paul, as a Prayer Warrior. Being the eldest, so much responsibility has rested on his shoulders. He brings warmth, peace, and comfort to both my Mom and Dad. He helps my Dad with "technical" stuff, and sits next to Mama, to pray with her. Meanwhile, my amazing Sister-in-Law, Stephanie, cleans whatever needs to be shined up. And I'm not just talking, a once-over. In true Foxy-fashion, she will clean like no other. Having lost both of her own parents, she truly understands, and empathizes with my brother's needs on this journey.
Matthew, the second eldest, has his own gentle way of loving my folks. If you have ever read the book called The Five Love Languages, it is clear to see that Matt's primary Love Language, is that of giving gifts. There isn't a week that goes by, when Matt doesn't send my folks something via mail. Whether it is pears from Harry and David (one of Foxy's favorites), or a DVD on visiting Italy, because that's the only way Mom will be able to get to Europe now. Matt thinks of the little details, that most of us forget. Like filling Mom and Dad's stockings for Christmas. And although my Sister-in-Law, Samantha, is busy being a full time Mom, wife, and professor, she always makes time to call "C", as she lovingly refers to my Mom. She is calm, thoughtful, and organized, taking time out of her schedule to visit my folks, knowing a stack of papers to be graded, awaits her.
And then there's my Dad. After being married for 51 years, he attentively hovers around Mom, asking always, "How you doing, kid? You need anything? What can I get you?" If Mom is craving an apple fritter, Dad's in the car to go buy it for her. If Mom has to go potty, Dad is there, helping her into her wheelchair. Mind you, my Dad has one leg. So, if Mom has a nightmare, Dad grabs his walker in the dark, and makes his way to my Mom. My folks are by far, the most prominent example in my life, of unconditional love, that I have ever witnessed.
And then there's my Mom. Who wears a Cloak of Grace. Who's presence makes the Holy Spirit tangible, to anyone who comes near her.
"I'm so glad we have had this time together," she told me, last night, "I think we needed it,"
And again, the tears started to gather from the pit inside of me, that comes from missing her terribly, although she is still here.
"I know that I wasn't the best Mom, I know there are things I could have done better," she trailed off.
I just looked at her and said, "Mom, we do the best we can with where we're at. Look at my brothers and I. We are a reflection of the love that you and Dad have for us. We are a reflection of the love that you and Dad have for each other."
She looked down at me, starting to get glassy,
"Don't worry," I said, "Out of our five, I'm convinced at least one will end up in jail. So you have done a tremendous job with us."
"Oh Michelle! Don't SAY that!" suddenly, finding strength to yell at me.
We rented a hospital bed for Foxy for Christmas, but making that bed was the easy part. Although I had Abby and Emma help me, it took about an hour, because we wanted it "just right" for Nana.
My Mom is the one who had to "rally" to make that two hour road trip from Santa Rosa to San Jose.
My Mom, who is dying from Cancer. My Mom, who wanted the Francois family, to participate in the "Adopt A Family" organization, so we could help make someone else's Christmas more memorable. My Mom, who chose that Adopt A Family, herself, and specifically chose a family with an 8 year old who had Cancer. My Mom, who complains about nothing...not the pain that seizes her, not the meds she swallows on a regular basis, not the left leg that is now crippled by the disease.
My Mom had to rally for that trip.
Best. Gift. Ever.
