She can take anything life dishes out
There was a time
Back before she was mine
When I thought I was tough...
Just that, tough. My momma was as tough as they come. Not physically, well yeah she was...but you get me. 😃 The woman seriously fought through more than most people will their entire life. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.
The hubby's phone rang at 5:23am that morning. The sun was barely peeking through our curtains, and our house was as quiet as can be. In the brink fo the moment, Mike quickly hung up without even looking to see who it was. It rings again & he tells me it's my dad. I am thinking "what in the heck does he want this early in the morning?" He answers, and its silent for a split second, which seemed like an eternity. I hear my dad say "Margie is dead." And from that moment, everything sped up like your movie in fast forward motion, yet felt like it took all week for one day to finish. From that moment, my life changed forever.
You see, my mom was not just my mom. She was my best friend. She was my advice giver, my backbone, my confident, and most certainly my biggest supporter. No matter what I got myself in to or what I didn't, she was always there. We spent many days & nights sitting at the kitchen table just talking about everything under the sun. I made many & I mean MANY grocery trips to Fricks with her, and begged for chicken gizzards from the deli. And I usually got my way, bc she wanted some too. She washed many uniforms through out the years, and traveled many many miles to softball games and band competitions. She cooked THE best food. Especially her hamburger has, which to this day, I still can't figure it out. Oh yeah, and the BEST fried eggs!
Her breakfast choice was a waffle with a little syrup on it, with a fried egg on top. I could never grasp how she liked that, but she loved it. She got up early to make dads lunch, and egg sandwich before he left for work. Then, she'd fight the good fight of trying to get my sisters & I up for school. She'd drop us off, and head to work. She worked with mentally handicapped adults, and my gosh was she an angel to them. She'd get off work just in enough time to come & pick us up from school. Homework, laundry, practices, more laundry, dinner, and bed. Over & over & over & over. She never once complained. EVER.
Summer time would roll up, and it would be a bit slower in the morning for her, but she'd sit and write us a long list of chores each of us would have to do, BEFORE she got home. Oh, to have that list again! We'd usually get them done about 5 minutes before she walked in the door! She'd take a little nap, and then it was to the ballpark for the rest of the night. Over & over & over & over! She never once complained. EVER.
The day that she died, a piece of me died with her. If you have never lost someone close, especially a parent, you really don't understand. It's a pain that is so piercing, and it just lingers. Forever! It will literally knock you off your feet, or feel like you have been kicked in the stomach. It comes out of left field, after doing well for so long. Today, as I mother my own children(that never got to meet her,) I see/hear a lot of my momma come out. It literally makes me stop in my tracks and smile. If I become just 1/4 of the mom she was to me, I'd call that a success.
Almost 11 years later, the pain is still very real. I think of her daily, and talk to my own kiddos about her a lot. Every once in awhile, I'll grab the note she wrote me on my wedding day & read it, and just cry. I visit her grave site pretty regularly, and not because I think she is "there." She loved, and I mean LOVED flowers and gardening. So, I make sure her grave site is beautiful.
She fought hard. She was admitted to the hospital 13 times b/t Jan.09-July 09. She spent Mother's Day in the hospital that year, and was released from a stay just a few days before my nephew was born. She spent 90% of her last 6 months in the hospital, and never once complained. EVER.
My momma was far from perfect, but she was perfect for me. God blessed me the day He made me for her, but broke my heart the day He took her from me. 11 years later, it still hurts, but just a LITTLE less. That gut wrenching feeling is few & far between, and the tears don't flow near as often, but gosh do I miss that woman. More than anything! 💓
Ps: Tough? She was a catcher while growing up. Her best friend pitched so hard that she broke my moms hand in a game. She continued play the game, & never once complained. EVER. Yeah, she was a bad ass too!
