WickerBill
05-08-05, 04:47 PM
Today is Mother's Day, and I really, really miss my mom.
On February 17th, my mom passed away after an incredibly short, very painful battle with bone cancer. She was having some "pulled muscle" type of pain in her hip that didn't seem to go away, so she went to the doctor, who did a blood test, then a bone scan, and confirmed that she was riddled with cancer, from her ankles to her skull.
That was November 3rd, 2004.
On November 2nd, she voted in the general elections. At the end of November, she was taking Advil to deal with her pain. By Christmas, she was carrying around a morphine drip, but she came to my house to see my kids open presents. She walked upstairs and took a nap. By January 20th, she was bedridden and couldn't lift her head.
The day before she died, I went up to my parents' house in Muncie to see her. She was in astonishing pain, but she opened her eyes, held my hand, and talked to me, asked me how the kids were, told me that she was thankful for our prayers. She smiled at me, I leaned over and gave her a kiss, she even teased me about my beard scratching her face. Although I knew how sick she was, it just didn't seem like the kind of conversation you have with someone who only has 30 hours left.
Of course, as we found out with Railbird, not everyone gets even the short chance I got -- to say what needs to be said, to thank those so important to us for what they've done.
I implore every one of you who still has parents living -- regardless of your current relationship with them -- to give them a call. Tell them what you need to tell them. Send them new pictures of your kids or yourself. It could all be over tonight; if it were, what would you regret? If something popped into your head, go correct it while you can. Please.
If you are wanting to respond with condolences to me, please use that time to pick up the phone instead, or if your folks are no longer living, tell your kids about them. I don't care if you're Eminem and you wrote several songs about how much you hate your mother.... call her. Make peace.
It will mean a lot to you the first Mother's Day after she's gone.
WB
On February 17th, my mom passed away after an incredibly short, very painful battle with bone cancer. She was having some "pulled muscle" type of pain in her hip that didn't seem to go away, so she went to the doctor, who did a blood test, then a bone scan, and confirmed that she was riddled with cancer, from her ankles to her skull.
That was November 3rd, 2004.
On November 2nd, she voted in the general elections. At the end of November, she was taking Advil to deal with her pain. By Christmas, she was carrying around a morphine drip, but she came to my house to see my kids open presents. She walked upstairs and took a nap. By January 20th, she was bedridden and couldn't lift her head.
The day before she died, I went up to my parents' house in Muncie to see her. She was in astonishing pain, but she opened her eyes, held my hand, and talked to me, asked me how the kids were, told me that she was thankful for our prayers. She smiled at me, I leaned over and gave her a kiss, she even teased me about my beard scratching her face. Although I knew how sick she was, it just didn't seem like the kind of conversation you have with someone who only has 30 hours left.
Of course, as we found out with Railbird, not everyone gets even the short chance I got -- to say what needs to be said, to thank those so important to us for what they've done.
I implore every one of you who still has parents living -- regardless of your current relationship with them -- to give them a call. Tell them what you need to tell them. Send them new pictures of your kids or yourself. It could all be over tonight; if it were, what would you regret? If something popped into your head, go correct it while you can. Please.
If you are wanting to respond with condolences to me, please use that time to pick up the phone instead, or if your folks are no longer living, tell your kids about them. I don't care if you're Eminem and you wrote several songs about how much you hate your mother.... call her. Make peace.
It will mean a lot to you the first Mother's Day after she's gone.
WB