For me...this is the first time I've ever really written about my mom. I've always wanted to, but I wasn't in the right frame of mind and I felt I was influenced by others to not really understand who my mom was. This blog is all about me and how I viewed and view my mom. No one can have me say anything, believe anything, feel anything or think anything when it comes to this blog. My mom was my mom, regardless of her wrong doings, she was my mom and for me, there was far more good than bad when it came to my mom. I won't be making excuses for her or putting her in a light that really was never her. She wouldn't want that and that's not how she raised me.
My mom was born in Bogota, Colombia. She left when she was 6 with her mom and sister. That was one of the best choices that they made. If they hadn't of left, they wouldn't of met my father. Child hood sweet hearts, they married and had three kids. My older sister, me the middle and my younger brother. Nothing was really ever easy, yet there were times where it seemed that way and many times where it was. A lot of turbulence, my mother had to deal with issues that caused her to be a survivor. Having to deal with a lot of pain and PTSD, my mom loved in ways that were extremely loving and then extremely abusive. She dealt with a lot of abuse as a child, as a wife, and as a woman in general. Unfortunately, a lot of her pain as a survivor was never truly taken care of and it manifested itself onto her children. Being the child who took in the brunt of it, I realized that through the years I had mental health professionals and the like describing my mother in ways that they knew nothing about.
It was hard to hear a lot of it and now at 36, I know who my mom was.
My mom was a survivor of abuse. My mother was a survivor of a new world at the age of 6. My mother was a survivor of Bi-Polar Disorder and PTSD. She did her best and even though the best was not always the smartest way to handle things, I remember my mom in ways where all of her pain was not always part of her life.
My mom was a fire cracker! She was so spunky! She was a crazy and lovable mommy. She had such a mouth on her. She was very simple. She loved to eat meat...the more rare the better. She was like a cave woman who loved to eat and savor every minute of it. She was messy when she ate. She would fart and burp and that would make her all the more silly and crazy in the most fun ways. She didn't care. For her, when it came to her meats and fruits, you had better not put your hand near her mouth or she would bite you like a ravenous Dinosaur...which I found so incredibly cute and crazy. My mom would always smile even when her darkest of pain would cause her to try to submit...still...she refused and conquered it all that she could.
My mom loved to where most humans could not love. My mom was a savior of sorts. She would help out my friends, when their own families would give up on them. She came to all of my concerts, all of my hospitalizations. She fought for me to go to a alternative school where my old High School(that she was a PTA member for)dropped me like a sack of potatoes when I needed help. My mom fought tooth and nail to get me to that school and I went from F's and D's to A's and hardly any B's.
To my mom...her famous saying was "you fuck with my kids...and I'll kill you". Heh. She lived by that motto I tell ya. She was the life of the party. She would have these massive holiday dinners where she would cook as if the Knights of the Round table were coming over. There was always too much food at holiday dinners and everyone always went home full and with left overs. She would give and give without question. So incredibly generous she was. She had such a loud laugh and would laugh at things that others found "strange". She had a dark sense of humor and that rubbed off on her kids and I laugh at "strange" things to this day.
My mom loved her "grand kids". My mom loved her Granddaughter and she loved her non-human grand children very much. She would spoil my kids(the non-human ones)like crazy. She had her own little one named 'Fluffy-Puff' who was just like my mom. Cuddly, lovable and hyper. My mom gave her all, yet she always put herself aside most of the time. My mom loved food and food loved her, but that led to a road of pain where I gave my life up for her the last 3 1/2 years of her life.
My mom suffered from Type II Diabetes. Her heart was damaged from Rheumatic Fever as a child and in general, her health was poor. She didn't quite understand the consequences of loving fruits and meats too much. Her kidneys were failing and I made a pact with her that I was going to take her to a Kidney Specialist and a hospital that specialized in Kidney treatment procedures. I had spoken with doctors at this hospital and printed out paper work so that I could give the hospital permission to use me as a donor for a replacement kidney. I had all of that paper worked signed and I even bought a fax machine so that as to keep in constant contact with the hospital. My mother and I kept that a secret until now. My mother and I had the same blood type and with me being her donor for blood and a kidney, I knew that devoting my life to her for the last 3 1/2 years would be difficult.
It was difficult. My mother went back and forth into hospitals. She was still fighting off the fact that she didn't want to be taken care of but she had no choice. It was painful having to deal with the constant trips to and from doctors. I didn't have any help and it was up to me to take her all over the Island and outside of the Island to get help. Dealing with doctors 5 times a week, even the doctors asked me how I was doing and if I was able to manage all of this. For me, I didn't have a choice. I was on my own with my mother and with no one else's help, I knew that this was what God had intended for me to do. I wanted my mother to be around for as long as I could have her and to keep her as healthy as possible for the family.
I was so used to my mother going back and forth to hospitals that it became a common thing every week. The last week of her life she was ill. Nothing different than years prior, but she just wasn't up to doing much.
On March 26th, my mom was very tired and not well and she just wanted to head to bed. I put her to bed and kissed her on the forehead. She told me she loved me and I her, and she went to sleep.
She died during the morning hours of the 27th.
I won't go into detail about the experience, because I am not responsible enough mentally to express it here in a blog. All I know is that I was on my own that night and there is no one who will ever understand what I witnessed or went through in order to save her.
My mom was amazing! My mom was beautiful! My mom was full of life! My mom was passionate, loving, smart, fun and perfect!
My mom was 61 when she died.
You know...my mom was one of the most loved people that I had ever known. She was so loved that even though she had the biggest room for her wake in the entire funeral home, there were people standing to see her that night. Flowers were having to be put outside of the Hall because there were so many. So many tears, and memories. We made damn sure that we had some of her favorite music playing. Some Earth, Wind and Fire. Some Doobie Brothers. My mom was full of life. She was my own personal 'Santa'. Jolly and round and loud! Always with something to say. Always with something to give and give with her all!
I started to cry just a little now. I'm doing my best to not cry too much.
I miss her. I wish she could see how far I've gone in life. I wish I could hold her and tell her that I'm still alive. I wish I could hold her and say..."look mom...your booboola is married now and living like 'Snow white'. Surrounded by beauty. Beauty that she would of loved to of seen. I know she can see it, but I can't hold her and show her around. That might sound selfish of me...but I guess I can't help it.
I gave my life to her for 3 1/2 years and I had to endure a lot of HELL because I thought I hadn't done enough. I thought for years that I could of saved her. I barely knew who I was as Vanessa...but I knew who I was when it came to being a Doctor, Psychiatrist, Psychologist, Kidney Specialist, Nurse, Dietician, Physical Therapist, Ambulance, Best Friend and daughter. I may of been all of those things to her, but I was just me. Just Vanessa. I refused to put her in a Nursing Home. I refused to let anyone take care of her body. Only I wanted to make sure that she got the best possible care she could get. I did all that I could...I just thought that I hadn't done enough.
At 36, I know I did all that I could to take care of my mother. I know that I did all I could to make sure she was comfortable. I did all that I could to save her. I wanted to make the last years of her life the best that she could get without having to lose her dignity.
My mom was spunky! She was crazy! She was fun and she was full of life. My mother was the Sun. So many people tried to dampen the light that burst forth from her, but she refused to let that happen. I'll look up to the night sky tonight and remember just how she would chase me around the house, having one of her love attacks. I remember how she had a love attack with my father and as she jumped on top of him to attack him with kisses and love, the two twin beds that they had together opened in the middle and the two of them plopped right on the floor.
My mother was a knock-out! A gorgeous knock-out. To my sister, she was Elizabeth Taylor. To my brother, this happy and full of life round jolly creature with a big belly button. To me...my mother was my best friend and confidante.
The night after my mother died, I had a dream where she came to me. She was dressed in white and glowing. She had no grey hairs on her head and she had her beautiful smile and happy go lucky disposition. She was waving to me. She spoke to me. She told me that she was happy and feeling wonderful. She thanked me and told me she was with "abuelita"(my moms' mom). I could feel warmth. She just kept smiling at me and giggling. She started waving good-bye and all of a sudden, I saw her face up close and the last thing she said was "it's not your time"...
I woke up..............
