Today is 6 months that my Mom is gone. I had a dream last night that I was in my car on Mike’s laptop outside of some kind of store. My Mom came out of the store and I looked up and saw her. My mind told me (in my dream) that she wasn’t really there because she was gone and to not go up to her because she would disappear. It was all in slow motion and she walked by my car and we were looking at each other and she walked around my car until I couldn’t see her anymore. It was really weird because even in my sleep, my mind tells me that she is gone, maybe to not give me false hope that this is just a horrible nightmare, I dunno.
I wanted to share a layout I did for her when she was sick. I had not posted it yet but I read it at her funeral. It is titled “Real Mom”. I cannot believe that the pic of her in this layout was taken only 1 1/2 years before her diagnosis. It was when we lived in CA and she had come to visit us because Houston was having hurricane Rita. She was 74 in the pic and never looked her age, ever.
I have one regret about this layout and that is that I did not read it to her. I sent her the layout when she was already pretty sick and when I was going to read it to her over the phone, she couldn’t really talk for too long and she had to let me go. When I went to Houston, we didn’t have a lot of private time together and she was so sick, I just never had a chance to read it. I know that she knew though. I know that she knew that she was my only Mom. I voiced that quite loudly throughout my life.
Journaling reads:
All my life, when I would talk about you, or introduce you to people, I would have to explain how you were not my “real Mom”. From a very young age, I remember you always explaining to people that you were my Grandmother who was raising me. For some reason you felt it was important for people to know this. Maybe it was because you wanted me to not forget my “real Mom”, or because you thought that they would think you were to old to have a little girl my age. Looking back now it seems very silly that we did this, I mean honestly, you were not my “real mom”, you were so much more. You sacrificed a lot to give me a good life. You didn’t have to do it, but you knew that if you did not take me and become my “real Mom” I would not have a very good life. You did everything that a little girl could want in a mom. You stayed home with me. You taught me how to read. You taught me how to roller skate. You were there every single day to meet me at the door after school. You loved me when my “real Mom” didn’t. I didn’t think about it much when I was little but, as a adult, I hate explaining that you are not my “Real Mom” so I don’t do it anymore, not very often anyway and if I do, it’s just out of habit. Lately I have had to explain to people that my mom is sick. I ask everyone to pray for my mom, that she will be healed of this horrible sickness called cancer. All my life you have been a very healthy person so now it is very hard to believe and accept this curse of cancer, to believe that you are facing sickness. I still know that God will heal you. It is because of you that I know this. You also taught me the most important part of my life. You taught me of Jesus. You took me to church every Sunday and I always had a deep passion in my heart for Jesus, my Heavenly Father . I know that He can touch you and heal you. I know that He will let you stay with us a lot longer so that I can show you how much I appreciate you being my “real Mom” and that Jesus is touching you and giving you strength to fight this sickness. I believe His word, and it says, “Through His stripes you are healed”, and I know you will be healed. I only wish I could be there in Houston with you. I know I am far away, but know that I am praying for you and think of you constantly, day and night, you are in my heart. Just like Jesus, you will never leave. Always know that you are my “real Mom” and I appreciate everything you did for me and most importantly remember that I thank you and I love you for all you are Mom. You will always be my Real Mom.
I miss you terribly Mom!