When they come back home to visit

My heart is so full right now....just from reading 2 sentences from my son.   He's on his way to the train station in NYC and he can't wait to see me.   He'll only be home for 4 days and we may even have a few one-on-one conversations before he goes to visit all his "peeps."  When did it come to this?  I am reminded by that wonderful song from "Fiddler on the Roof," - you know the one, "Sunrise, Sunset."   "Is this the little boy I carried.....?"  It seems like yesterday that they were all home, fighting to see who would sit next to me at the dinner table.    I never knew how good I had it then.   They were always within arm's reach, I could hold them close, feel their hearts beat, stroke their foreheads, pray with them, nurse them to health when they were sick.

Time stands still for no man, someone once said.  I am proud of my kids and it has been such a wonderful time watching them grow up and make their own decisions. 

Sometimes, though, the house is just a wee bit too quiet.  My husband and I enjoy our "freedom," but there's still that ache in my heart because I miss my kids.  

But one of them is about to board a train and come back into my arms...if only for a few days.   That's reason to rejoice!!!!

Tribute to My Mother, Bernice Weiner

To quote Abraham Lincoln, "All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother."

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

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 2^nddaughter 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!!”

 

Is it enough to know I am loved?

Hi there. So yesterday I was feeling bummed because I don't get to talk to you (all three of you) very often. I KNOW that you love me, so no worries there. This is not to make you feel guilty or anything. Just let me ramble. I was thinking about my mother, how she wrote me religiously every week (and expected a once-a-week response) and she would go on and on about her day, what she ate, etc. Not always interesting, but once in a while she shared her thoughts and feelings about life and I still have some of those letters. I was thinking to myself - why did she write me every week. Did she really think I cared about all that trivial stuff? (Not her feelings, but the other stuff). Then it hit me -- writing to me was her way of connecting to me. It was her way of trying to reach out and touch me. And she shared all that stuff with me because she wanted me to know her. So I guess that's what I want also. I want you to know me -- to know what I think and feel. To know about my day, or my week. I asked myself the question - is knowing I am loved enough? And the answer was no, it's not enough. I want an ongoing relationship with my children. I was going to send this as an email but you're too busy and wouldn't read it anyways. So I'll just put it in my blog.

Growing Pains

No one ever prepares you for sleepless nights when you’re new parents, and no one
prepares you for the challenges of parenting adult children. Perhaps when they were small I longed for a time when they would be independent and wouldn’t need me so much. Now I long for those early years when they wanted to climb into my lap, or competed for a chance to sit by me at dinner.

If only I could go back in time and do the whole child-parent thing better. I’m talking about my own mother. Now I know how she felt when I left home, how she longed to talk to me and felt hurt when I was too busy, or didn’t respond to her letters. I know now how she felt when she called me, only to be told that I was busy, and that it wasn’t a good time to chat. I wish I could
tell her that I was sorry – I wish I could hug her for a long time and reassure her of my love and tell her about my life – for she longed to know about my adventures. She was my greatest
encourager; she smiled with me and grieved with me.

Don’t misunderstand; I know that my children love me. I just miss hearing about their day, seeing their facial expressions, and mostly, feeling their hugs. Of course we now have modern technology so I can still see them with video chats, but that requires coordinating schedules
and they are, well, too busy most of the time.

Now with Facebook and other social media there are ways to view their activities and see who their new friends are, but I feel more like a stalker when I do that.

I have a full life, many friends and many hobbies. I have a wonderful husband who loves and
supports me. I am proud of my three adult children and they know they can always come to me.

I just have to accept that they are adults and that it’s normal for them to develop lives of their own. And when I least expect it, there’s a phone call, email or text message with those three words that I love to see/hear: “I love you!”

Time to Get a Dog?

So I've been whining to my friends lately that my kids don't need me anymore. I'm thinking I should maybe get a dog sometime soon. Some little furry thing that is absolutely crazy with excitement when I walk through the door, who can't get enough of me. Sigh.... maybe when I retire. Not sure when that will be. Don't get me wrong, I know the best thing I could ever have done for my kids, other then point them to the Lord, was to train them to be independent! So now they are and I have to sit back and let them be. And I am so very proud of my kids - sometimes I wonder if they know that. They are good, kind, generous and each has a wonderful sense of humor. So maybe one of them hardly ever eats veggies, one of them speaks first and thinks later, and one of them has a bit of a temper, still they're my wonderful kids and I wouldn't trade them for the world! And we're not even going to describe my faults or weaknesses because we'd be here all night. I am truly blessed. I know I am loved and shame on me for ever doubting it.

Empty Nest

I didn't know I was such a control freak, but I am. And that really bothers me! My kids are young adults now, and I thank God that they are smart, responsible and decent people. I seem to have the most trouble letting go of my daughter. Maybe it's because she is the "baby." I hated it when my mother was overly involved in my life, and yet I am doing the same thing to my daughter. So after quite a few confrontations with her I realize how important it is for me to back off. Stop asking so many questions. Stop trying to be involved in her life. BACK OFF. The other 2 kids?? One is in California, and one is about to get married. Guess this is a good time to analyze why do I have a desperate need to be needed? Maybe it's time to get a dog.

It's not easy being a mother!

But it's the greatest blessing ever! My first pregnancy was a miscarriage. I was 15 weeks pregnant and started to bleed and cramp. As sad and devastated as I was, the Lord gave me such peace. His promise in Psalm 113:9 that He would make "the barren woman a joyful mother of children" gave me hope and strength. Two months later I was pregnant with my first child, and every 2 years after that I had another baby - stopping at 3 children.

Being a mother gives you the chance to do silly things you would otherwise never do - i.e. blow bubbles on the baby's stomach, make wild cooing noises, throw baby up the air and catch him/her.

I have loved every moment of being a mother. The first time one of my children said "I love you" was a moment I wish I could freeze in time.

More later...