My Mother passed away one week ago, after spending 12 days in ICU. I’m glad I got to see her before she left this earth. I realized after I returned from that visit that the main purpose of seeing her was to tell her goodbye…but those words never escaped my lips. For whatever reason, I never uttered the words “goodbye” to her.
Maybe it’s because she was sedated & on a ventilator, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because even if she’d been wide awake, she wouldn’t have known me or what I was saying, because of the Alzheimer’s. Maybe part of me was afraid that if I said goodbye, she’d pass at that very moment, right in front of me. I really didn’t say much while I was visiting her in that ICU room. I’d stand by her bed, mostly silent, tears streaming down my face. I’d hold her hand in mine, trying to memorize every curve of her fingers…so that I’d never forget what her hands looked like, the hands that once fed me & changed my diapers. I even took photos of her hands. I’d ‘comb’ her hair with my fingers, trying to fix it for her-she was always fixing her hair and trying to look her best. I remember being surprised at how soft her hair was, softer than I remembered. Before I’d leave, I’d tell her I was leaving, tell her to get some rest & that I’d be back… but never goodbye.
My Mom made the best gorditas…as I stood next to her bed, I thought about all the great meals she’d cooked for me over the years. Growing up, she’d make us fresh flour tortillas on the weekends. I can still see her in the kitchen, rolling out the dough. Whenever I’d go back home to visit, she’d make my favorites for me…gorditas with butter, chicken mole, spanish rice, refried beans, sometimes she’d even make tripas! I’ll never eat my Mom’s home cooking again, but the memories will live on and I will be sure to share those memories with my children.
My Mom knew that I loved her and vice-versa-that’s not even an issue. I just never imagined it would all end like this, with her unconscious, in the last stages of Alzheimer’s not knowing who anybody is anymore. I always envisioned saying goodbye to her in the hospital, telling her I loved her and hearing her say the same to me. Hugging her and telling her it was ok to go, her work here on this earth was done. Never in a million years did I think Alzheimer’s would take her from us, years before death would.
So, now it’s time for me to say Goodbye to my Mom… the goodbye I couldn’t say in person:
Te quiero mucho Mami, y voy a verte de nuevo algún día en el cielo. Descansa en paz, te quiero. (I love you very much Mommy, and I will see you again one day in heaven. Rest in peace, I love you.) This is how I will remember my Mom, smiling, happy & loving on her grandsons.
