The Christmas Mother Died

My mother passed away on Christmas Eve. Her name was Lois. To most people this would seem a tragedy that would ruin the holiday forever. But, to me, it was just as she wanted and her passing was in the true meaning of Christmas.

Christmas in our family had a tradition. On Christmas Eve we all came home, had a meal, waited for Santa, then opened presents. Sounds pretty cut and dried, doesn't it? Yet, it was our tradition. The ceremony represented stability, continuity and family. We had moved several times, even spending one Christmas in Khartoum Sudan. There were no pine trees, in Sudan, so Mom decorated our piano, and when we came down after Santa and his camels had come, we found the presents under the piano bench.

My mother was the glue that held our family together. She was always there, day and night. We could talk to her about anything, well not everything we were teenagers eventually. My father worked a lot. A great deal, going back to night school to get better positions at work. Where my mother was the glue, my dad was the supports. I have never seen a better team. As we grew older, they let us fly, but we never seemed to go far away. Physically maybe, but our hearts were at home.

So it went, over the years, we knew they'd both be there for us in times of joy and sorrow. Then my mother had a heart attack and developed heart disease. In fact she had her heart attack at 11,000 feet in the primitive wilderness of the Montana mountains. We were all camping, trying to avoid the rogue grizzly bears that had been relocated there a few weeks prior. She waved it off, said it was just pain from carrying the camera. It was a week later, back at home, when the second attack hospitalized her, that we learned the truth about the attack on the mountain.

Still she survived. Several more heart attacks and three open heart surgeries. She was a nurse, so she opted for experimental procedures. She was one of the first to have stints put in. If you know someone that has a stint, thank her, she was part of the research. The year I became engaged, my fiance' joined us for Christmas Eve. Once again, Mom had to be taken to the hospital. It slowed the gathering, but we continued on, knowing she would be more upset if we didn't.

This last year was no different. The house was decorated, with crafts my mother had made over the years. We had prepared the prerequisite meal. Mini sandwiches, whip cream salad, a relish tray and pumpkin pie. No matter what else you might add we had to have those four. Mom was too ill this year to cook much of it, but we knew the routine and we did our best. We gathered in Gramma and Grampa's house. By now there were 7 grandchildren. A few of us were missing, far flung around the world, but those who could make it did. Mom stayed in bed, in her and dad's bedroom, next to the living room. I think we knew this would be her last. As we celebrated, we would run in and out showing her our gifts, asking her where something was. I asked her if she wanted to come out, but she said she maybe would later. She lay quietly, listening and enjoying all the sounds, smells and commotion. We all had a chance to talk to her privately, between kids dashing in for hugs and thank you's. I told her I loved her, and that I knew she was tired. I thanked her for my life and all she had taught me. I kissed her good night and left her smiling, still listening to her family in the next room.

The next morning, my sister called to say she was gone.

I can only thank God and her for being there one more time. She continues to be with us at parties, reunions, weddings and more births as they come. Sure, I would give anything to have her here now, but how much more tragic if she had died when no one was there. We were home, we shared the most special of Holidays with her, she shared with us. We were all there the next day, to attend to her and each other. For her, for me, for us, it's all about family. It was her last wish, that we would continue to get together and we do. We have goofy family reunions, this year features Godzilla. My choice, of course. Her name was Lois, she will forever be in our hearts and minds. Christmas does not remind me of her death, it reminds me of her life and how she wants us to be together. And so we do, either in person or in heart joined by Mom in spirit. It will always be Merry Christmas.