Mother's Day 2016

It is almost 1am as I'm writing this and so now it's officially Mother's Day 2016.  It is my daughter Lindsay's third Mother's Day, my thirty-third Mother's Day and my mother's 62nd Mother's Day.  But this is not a happy Mother's Day at all this year.  You see my mother had a stroke 18 days ago, just two days before my 60th birthday.  Needless to say, it was not such a happy birthday either, even though it was a milestone one; the sting of my mother's condition left a haunting feeling of sadness around me. And trust me, if I could read her mind (which would be really helpful now because she can't talk), I would bet she feels absurdly guilty that she ruined my birthday.   

My mom is in rehab now, slowly recovering.  She has lost her ability to speak and much of her coordination.  We have had days where she was doing really well, when she sang happy birthday to my brother all by herself and has even joined in a conversation with a sentence or two.  However, the last few days she has not been speaking at all, except to tell me once she wanted to go home.  

I wish I could take her home.  I wish I could pick her up and carry her home just like in that children's book by Robert Munsch, I Love You Forever, the book I could never read through without getting thoroughly and completely choked up at the end.  Now I am living that book every single day for the past 18 days. 

I will not despair, though.  I have inherited my mother's stubborn positivity and I have decided to make a list of just some of the things (20) I have cherished about her since she came to live with me almost six years ago. 

Here goes...

What I Cherish About My Mom, Sylvia: 

1. Every morning when I give her a cup of hot water and lemon, she holds up the cup and says, "Here's to a wonderful day!" 
2. She sings to Sonny, our dog, and I'm pretty sure he likes it. 
3. She talks Yiddish to Sonny and I'm pretty sure he understands her. 
4. She tells Sonny that he's her best friend.  
5. She tells me how wonderful I am every day.  
6. The smell of her skin from Dove soap, the only soap she'll ever use. 
7. Her smile. 
8. How she loves to dance. 
9. When she asks me where I'm going to work that day, and when I worked in Wyandanch, she kept on saying, "Wine and Dance?"
10. When she refers to Facebook as Spacebook. 
11. How she sings "Happy Birthday" to everyone she loves on the phone (or on Facebook). 
12. How she loves my grandchildren. 
13. How she inspires me to be a better person, and I know I have a long way to go to be the person she is. 
14. How she forgives everyone. 
15. The stories she tells, some over and over, and then some new ones I never heard before. 
16. When she asks me for a glass of wine before dinner and a cookie or piece of cake after dinner. 
17. When she tells me whatever I cooked was so delicious, even when, honestly, it's not. 
18. When she says, I can't see, I can't hear, but otherwise I'm fine.  
19. When she thanks me for everything I do for her, even though I know I should probably do more. 
20. How she said, "You made my day" after I took her to vote just one day before her stroke.  

I could never imagine what a day would be without her.  It is just too painful to even consider.  I have not heard her voice in three days and I am lost.  My house is eerily empty without her in it.  

So, I am sending out cosmic vibrations, prayers, chants, meditations, positive energy, anything, ANYTHING to bring her home to me.  

Amen.

Cherish your mother.  You only get one.  No matter what, if anything, about her annoys you, trust me, you will only remember what made her special.