How do you say goodbye..

when you don't want to? I know that death is a part of life, and we begin dying the moment we are born. That does not make losing somebody you love any easier.

My mom is dying. We are talking end of it dying, any day now dying. I'm losing my mom. This is not so much about that as it is about telling you about how cool my mom was. Believe me, she made mistakes (as I am quite sure I do as a mom too), but I think people should know how cool they are before they die, not after when only the stories are left for those who survive. Here are a few about my mom.

When we were little kids, I'm talking 4,6,7,and 8, my mom took all 4 of us on a vacation while dad was on a trip. Dad was a truck driver and was gone a lot, but that did not stop mom. She took all of us to the beach, rented a motel room, and sunbathed on the beach while we kids tested the water, built sand castles and basically tortured one another. Now, this was before sunscreen was all the rave, and all of us got sunburned pretty badly. We all slept in a motel bed, mom and little sister and me and big sister and brother got the cot.....
that is one brave lady.

I also remember when we all got the chicken pox at the same time. LOL....poor mom. She had 4 kids, one bathroom and calamine lotion to soothe a small army. How she kept us all alive when I struggle with one, I don't have a clue. She tells stories of us walking up to her and saying "mom, I think I am going to..." blaaaaach....yup, we all, at one time or another, have puked on my mom. Yet, she still loves us. There is her sainthood.

Then there was the time we went grocery shopping in Indiana because they don't have sales tax on food (Most progressive state in the nation people!!...in this at least). We had a car full of kids and food and I was leaning on the car door. I don't know how, but while we were getting on the interstate, the door popped open. My sister held on to my legs while my mother pulled over and gathered me in the car. I tell you what, being a mom...I don't know how she survived that.
My mom...my guardian angel.

Then, when I was in high school, I took mom's car and went to Great America when I was not supposed to. While I was there, some drunk 13 year old hit my mom's car. Wendy and I were okay, and, from the outside, mom's car was okay. By the time we got home, the car was having trouble. When I hit the driveway, the car died and I coasted into it's regular parking spot. The next day the car would not start. I told mom somebody backed into it in the parking lot (hey, half true). My friend Wendy came along and said "hey ma, (*everybody calls her ma) did Mommaria tell you about the kid that hit us last night at Great America"....yeah, she said it. Mom came into my room and asked for the truth. My mom...the lie detector (I have never lied to her since then).

Mom, you didn't do things perfectly, you did them the best you could. You always did what you thought was right by us kids. You always made sure we had what we needed and an awful lot of what we wanted. You were always a friend. You were always strong. You are still strong.

I am so excited that you have prayed and allowed Jesus to be your saviour. I know that cancer may take you, but I will see you whole and happy again when my turn comes. I hope my son has good things to say about me at that point too.

It's just a shame more people don't know you like we do.
You were mom to all. Thanks for the open door.

I love you.
I will continue to love you.
When you go....I will miss you.