Originally I wrote this an an entry to a contest for Ladies Home Journal. I didn't win, but that's ok. I need to post this, to honor my mother's memory.
I'll Never Forget You Mama!
--- The Call That Changed My Life
--- The Call That Changed My Life
Friday, October 27, 2006, around 11:00 p.m. EST. That’s when I got the call. Bernice Weiner, my most beloved mother had crossed over to the other side, most likely sprinting into the waiting arms of my previously deceased father. I knew this time would come – in the week prior she had stopped eating and drinking.Even though I was in upstate NY and she was in Hawaii, I felt her. My spirit travailed and groaned and I was filled with sadness.
Mama Bernice was the funniest woman I ever knew. She was the queen of sarcasm and had a hearty laugh. With her thick Kentucky drawl she used to tell me “I love ya like a hog loves slop!” The oldest of three sisters, Mama grew up in Louisville and was working by the time she was 12 years old.Years later she went to Richmond, Virginia to visit her sister, Marian, and met my father, Manuel Weiner, at a Jewish War Veteran’s dance.
I was the 2nddaughter born to Bernice and Manuel, and wasn’t sure if they found me on a doorstep or if I was delivered by a stork.Mama loved to tell tales!Sometimes she’d say “that’s your tale….I’m sitting on mine!” My older sister was better behaved and more obedient, which prompted Mama to tell me that if I had been the first-born child she would definitely not have had any more children!Still I knew that she loved me and I loved to melt in her warm embraces.
Mama taught me to have faith in God and to recite Psalm 23 when I was afraid.I was very involved with community theater and she came to every production and clapped the loudest. She lavished me with praise, taught me to believe in myself and assured me that I could do anything if I tried and had faith!
I must admit that during my teenaged years I had some resentment for my mother. She and I didn’t always agree and I was struggling to find myself and make my own decisions.It was a difficult time, yet we retained our love and affection for one another.
Years later when I was married and far from home, Mama faithfully wrote me letters every week and it was expected that I would reciprocate – or else I’d be in big trouble!Her letters were filled with everything: local weather forecasts, restaurant menus, movies they had seen, advice, humor and her philosophy about life.I held on to these letters because somehow I sensed that I would need them to comfort me one day. There were weekly phone calls and lots of trips back and forth.
When my Dad passed away in 1982 it was devastating to our family. Yet Mama was a rock and exhibited amazing strength.It was hard living far away and not being there to help her. Mama never learned to drive and often walked to the store to purchase her food and supplies. Neighbors and family members helped her and she seemed to manage well, in spite of her incredible loss.
In 1990 we received a phone call from a neighbor, informing us that Mama was in the hospital. She had some sort of “spell”but the doctors couldn’t find anything. At that moment I knew that she must not live alone. My heart ached that I couldn’t be with her, as I had just begun a new job.When she was discharged from the hospital we asked her to live with our family and after a short time she agreed, sold her house in Richmond and came to live with us. At the time we were living in Queens, New York City.
If you had asked me when I was younger if I would ever invite my mother to live with me, I would have loudly and most definitely proclaimed “NO WAY!”But times change, we mellow as we age, and during this new venture I found myself delighted to have Mama with us. The children really got to know their“Grandma Bee” as they called her, and we became best friends.
She fell a few times, which concerned us. One time we needed to go on a very quick errand, and asked her to please refrain from taking her nightly bath until we returned.She promised me she would wait.But alas, some promises just can’t be kept.When we entered the apartment Mama was in her bathrobe, smelling of soap and powder.“Mom!” I scolded her. “You promised you wouldn’t take a bath by yourself!” Mama replied in her thick Kentucky drawl “Well I’m sorry but I couldn’t find anyone to join me!!”
At first we didn’t notice the changes, but gradually we noticed that Mama started to repeat herself. She asked the same question multiple times.I brought her to the doctor, and upon examining her he informed me that she was beginning to get Alzheimer’s disease. My heart sank within me, as I knew that this would progress and that one day she might not remember me.
That was the most terrifying thought – that my Mama may not know me one day.I couldn’t imagine it and didn’t want to even think about it.I thank God that He was merciful.Every case of Alzheimer’s is different and in my Mama’s case it was very slow and gradual.
We had to acquire more patience than ever; it’s very hard to listen to the same story over and over. It’s extremely difficult to keep answering the same questions time after time.Mama was able to join a senior center but as the disease progressed she needed to leave. Some people become increasingly agitated with Alzheimer’s and Mama began to display more of this trait as the days went by.
Eventually Mama could no longer participate in any senior center because she required too much attention. At that time we hired various health aids to come to our home.
It was so hard when she would get up in the middle of the night.Mama’s inner time-clock was all messed up and she couldn’t tell when to sleep and when to wake. I struggled with feelings of resentment, frustration and guilt as I gently and sleepily coaxed her back to bed.
Mama became the child and I became the Mama. What a strange turn of events.I could have never predicted this unnatural reversal of roles.I loved her and cared for her and did my best to protect her. It was time to repay her for all that she had done for me.
We had the pleasure of having Mama with us for six years. After that time my sister Eileen, living in Hawaii, wanted to have her chance to care for Mama, so reluctantly, I let her go. I felt as if my “child” had been ripped from my arms. The night before they left I cried like a baby. How does a mother ever let her child go?How did my mother ever let us go?
Eileen cared for Mama for 10 years. Once in Hawaii, my mother began her decline, slowly, gradually. And then there came the time when I visited and she didn’t know me.I wanted to scream “MOM – it’s me, don’t you know me?” I am almost crying as I write this.The thing I dreaded the most had happened – she didn’t remember me.
Eileen was an amazing caretaker for Mama and had to feed her, clothe and bathe her and was with her till the end. They were a comfort to each other – Eileen lived alone and was a natural caretaker. They both needed each other.
The call came on October 27, 2006. I knew it was coming. Mama died and my world will never be the same.I have her letters, I have her voice on CD, and I have her heart and soul living within me. Yes, her legacy lives on inside me.I only hope I can do for my children what she did for me. It’s because of Mama Bernice that I am strong, confident, filled with faith and able to embrace all that life throws at me.
I’ll never forget you Mama.One day, when my time comes, I will run into your arms and say “Mama, I love ya like a hog loves slop!!”
No comments:
Post a Comment