May 23, 2019 at 9:14:32AM. A date and time I will never forget. A date and time forever etched in my soul, on my heart, and in my brain. A date and time I wish I could erase.
May 23, 2019 at 7:15AM. Another date and time I will never forget. A date and time, also forever etched in my soul, on my heart, and in my brain. A date and time I wish I could extend for the rest of eternity.
May 17, 2019 6:30PM. Another date and time I will never forget. A date and time etched in my soul, on my heart, and in my brain for all of eternity. A moment I didn’t realize until it was too late to take note of every thing happening in that moment.
On May 17, 2019 in the evening, we sat in the gymnasium listening to Kiddo’s last middle school band concert. Mom sat next to me as we listened to Kiddo play a solo in the Celebration of Taps. Mom was so proud. I cried as I took pictures of him playing. When I sat back down next to Mom, I remember she leaned into me, in a way giving me a hug without her arms wrapped around me. Her lean, telling me she loved me, telling me she was proud of Kiddo, telling me she was proud of me for the young man that Kiddo has become. Her lean, though I remember it now with fondness, was a bit irritating at the time. I was trying to be present for this last middle school concert, trying to mindful for this last concert at St. Paul Lutheran School, trying to be in the moment for this rendition of Taps, which was the first time I heard him play it since my father-in-law’s funeral in January. Here I was trying to push away any sadness or anxiety or fearfulness to just be and allow myself to enjoy this moment and mom was leaning on me interrupting that moment. Of course now, 2 months after her passing I see this lean entirely different than I did at that moment. I truly believe her lean was a nonverbal conversation with me, telling me that I will handle whatever this life throws at me. That I will handle sadness, anger, disbelief, anxiety, grief, the culmination of the year of lasts, the teenage years, high school years, all of it. And I will do so because she will forever be at my side. I always knew mom was my biggest cheerleader, my confidant, my reality check, my home, but that lean was something different. It was her telling me that she would forever have my back! She would forever support me. She would be with me for eternity.
Just 6 days after that final middle school performance, May 23, for some reason there was a need for her to leave this Earth and to be with me, us really, in a different form of support. A different form of always being with us. Had I known what would occur at 9:14:32AM I would have made a call 7:15AM to tell her I was on my way to work and that I was excited to watch the 8th grade vs. the Principal Silly String War that was set to occur right before lunch. I would have asked her to meet me at school so she could also watch it. Instead, I got in my truck and headed to work just like any other Thursday morning, sending a voice text to my boss at 7:22 to tell him I was running late. You see at 7:15 that morning, all was right in the world! That all changed at 7:26 when my husband called to tell me that the ambulance had been called for my mom. This was not a new occurrence, she had been transported before. I can tell you today that I know his voice sounded so very different than the other times he had let me know of this. I know now, looking back, that I knew it in that moment too. I know this because of the calls that I made and the specific words that I used or didn’t use during those conversations. I knew that I was loosing my mom that day. How I knew, I have no idea! Why I felt that, baffles me. And if I could go back to that call, I would not change the way it played out or the actions I took. HOWEVER, I would change my gut instinct. I wish more than anything my gut would have been wrong! Gut instinct is supposed to protect you, not destroy you!
As I rode in the ambulance with mom in the back being worked on by 5 EMTs, I made every conscience decision to NOT be present, not be in the moment and to block everything out for that 15 minute drive to the hospital. I still had no idea what was going on with my mom, why she was being transported; I just knew that dad called on me to ride along and that is what I did. I’m wise enough to know that sometimes your brain knows even better than you do that there are some things you should not see nor hear so it helps you to avoid those. This was one of those cases. I heard crinkling of wrappers. I heard someone say 102, but other than that, I heard the siren blaring down the highway, ricocheting off the bridges we went under and I heard nothing else! It was not until the moment in time that we arrived and I exited the ambulance after receiving directions from a first responder, did I see and realize the criticality of the situation. As they wheeled mom out of the ambulance, there was an EMT on the gurney with her doing chest compressions. At the hospital, there were events that struck me in the moment as odd. I brushed those off as not to be worried about. It wasn’t until we waited for quite some time that we were taken back, only not to mom’s ED room but to an office. The doc explained to us that he had revived her. At that moment in time, I REJOICED! Mom is alive!!! I didn’t even realize she had not been while in the ambulance with me! The doctor gave us information and the plan for her care…and I thought we were in the clear! That is not how things turned out, this after all is not a fairy tale. After other interactions, we were standing at mom’s bedside when at 9:14:32AM the doc looked at the nurse and said “we will call it at 9:15.” At 9:15 the medical staff made the call that mom was gone.
Today, just before 9:15AM, I was sitting in a Corporate meeting that is held quarterly and was told that I was part of a team that had won an award for Living the Values of our company. Our nomination was for in the area of Teamwork. On April 4th of this year, we had a medical emergency at our office. We had a co-worker collapse and ultimately pass away. Those of us on that team were nominated because we came together and quickly, professionally, and with care responded to the situation. I don’t feel like a winner! The nomination was appreciated but winning is not. We were not winners that day. Nor are we winners today. That was a moment in time when we all just wanted to do all we could and walk away with a positive outcome. 7 weeks later, I was again left feeling helpless when there was nothing I could do to help my mom.
A moment in time…that is all that we have! We are given these moments, never really knowing when we will not be offered additional moments nor when we’ve had our last moment! Enjoy your moments, live without regret and seize each moment you are given! Be sure to tell your loved ones how much they mean to you and that you love them. In this moment in time and in all those to come…