Lunch with Mom

Posted before.. a personal memoir

 

I’ve had a hard life. I make no qualms about it. I think it is easier for me to talk so frankly about it now because my life is so different. When I was fifteen my mother died of cancer, and I truly wish I could say this was the most horrific thing to ever happen to me. Unfortunately, life was pretty rough before, and her passing didn’t make it easier, just a little easier to swallow.

I don’t mean this to mean I am glad for my mother to be gone. I mean the exact opposite. Her death affected me so profoundly, to this day I can say with utter honesty, there hasn’t been one time in my life I haven’t thought of her. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes not so good. Today, right before I wrote this, it was good.

My mother worked constantly. Her schedule was Sunday to Saturday with only Monday’s off. During the summer I got to see her a little more. As I wrote before, sometimes this was a good thing.

On this particular day it was a good thing. Our entire family loved to ride bikes, and on this bright clear day off the coast of Oregon we took a small bike ride just the two of us. The day was perfect, and there was none of the tension that usually existed between us. Even then these moments were precious and few and I knew to treasure them like a squirrel harvesting acorns for winter.

After a while she suggested we stop for lunch, and we made our way into the Copper Kettle, an old family owned place a bit off the beaten path. Over BLT’s we talked about books, music, and the upcoming school year. She was so relaxed in her old blue flannel shirt and jeans, and her big expressive brown eyes were free of turmoil. I knew this was one of her good days.

As we made our way back home she leaned in close to me and whispered not to tell my sister or my step-brother about this. It was to be our secret. I remembered smiling knowingly, and it was a good year or more before I ever did mention it to my sister. That was then she let me know she had done the same thing with her and my step-brother as well. They also were told not to tell. However, those two were always thick as thieves and soon after their secret rendezvous spilled their guts.

Even with the knowledge that my visit with mom was not as exclusive as I thought it was, I still felt a bond with my mother on that day. There were so few times she let her guard down, and treated me with utter adoration that I gobbled up it every time. As a child it was hard to believe she loved me, but as an adult I feel it down into the very core of my soul.

Also, as an adult I have learned empathy, and empathy has taught me that my mother did the best she could. She was only fifteen years old when she had me. With her Bi-polar disorder being meshed with abuse, degradation, and then two alcoholic husbands, I know she did only what she was capable of.

I’m a mother myself now, and I have learned a lot of what not to do’s and what would be the right thing to do from my mother. I believe to this day that even though my mother is no longer on this Earth she is with me. It is something I cannot clearly explain, but there is a presence I always feel around me when I need it the most. She is there guiding me along as best she can. On her death bed she said to me she was scared to die, because she felt she would never see me again. I told her, without really knowing it if was true, she would see me again and one day I would see her again as well. I can’t explain it, but I feel certain that one day she will be there holding my hand while looking me in the eye telling me I was right.

 

 

Reviews

[Rain]

Jennifer!!!
Beautiful. I mean to have bi-polar and two drunks as husbands she raised a warm and caring daughter. She sure is with you. This was pretty touching. Now I understand your sensitivity to mental illness. My youngest boy has schizophrenia and I know the heartbreak and troubles. Great job. Ray Rain

[Celtic Cat]

Well, I got chills when reading the part about your mom always being with you. To me, that means you speak the truth. Perhaps our mom's are sharing lunch right now.... although, it's closer to tea time! This is a touching piece of your life, and I thank you for sharing it with us. And, I think you are right, she'll be waiting to see you when you go. So sorry you lost your mom so young. Peace.

[Sean Allen]

The memory of that one day with your mother and the lunch you shared at the Copper Kettle will be the first thing that you both recall when you see her again.

Thank you for writing this, my mother was Bi-Polar as well, but I think all the best people are.
sa

[Eric]

You and me... partners in pain.

[Jasmina Amethyst Pendra..]

This was an amazingly heartfelt and heart warming piece. I loved it. Thank you so much for sharing this with all of us. ~Liv

[O!]

THe entire feel of this write was so heartfelt and so sincere........it was so well written, it felt like u were talking to me.....

Thank you for sharing this with us......always cherish the good times :)

x
O!

[Amanda L. Horst]

thank u for sharing this. you put pain to paper, and that is a very hard thing to do.

[Linda Dupree]

My mother died four years ago, much easier when you are older than when you are 15 I think but never easy. I did the same thing with my kids, separate meetings and told them each they are my favorite and they reported all this to each other. The truth is they are ALL my favorites because I love them all in different ways for different reasons. My mother always said she had no favorites which we all knew my sister was her favorite but noone envied this because it was horribly codependent and unhealthy but her answer of "no favorites" did always leave me a little flat. I guess noone said ILY when I was growing up so I determined I would be different and my kids know a little of both is what I prefer (show you love someone by your actions as well as say the words)

[An Ordinary Woman]

I don't know what it is with me tonight ... this is the second time I have cried. lol
I love your story ... its beauty held in the simple honesty of a child ... and the realization and understanding knowledge of an adult. I think that it is so wonderful that you had that day with your Mom ... and the memory of it sticks with you so profoundly.

Thank you for sharing it. All my best to you and yours.

[Polly Lewis]

This was poignantly touching Jennifer. I'm so glad you carry such a beautiful memory with you, it's so important when there are so many bad ones to cloud your past.

A wonderful story, well written and totally sincere.

Well done indeed.