I Love You

Last night we lost our Mom and Maeve lost her Grandmother to a terrible disease, ALS. Mom suffered 5 long years fighting to stay ahead of her illness. During her last few weeks the disease picked up speed and as I readied myself for what I knew would be inevitable, I gathered some of my favorite pictures (below) and wrote a letter to Mom last Sunday which I sent to her the following morning. She is with us always and is no longer a slave to a disease which shattered her body but not her mind and certainly not her spirit.













19 August 2007

It's about 11:00 PM. I am up now, writing to you. I tried going to sleep at 10:30 PM next to Chris. I said prayers for you. My prayers led to thoughts of you. I am aching inside. In my chest. I cannot sleep. My mind is racing. My t-shirt is damp. My pillow is damp too. My face is streaky, I'm sure of it. I'm crying very quietly so as not to wake Chris.

I remember driving a stretch of Route 28 in West Bridgewater/Bridgewater late one night, by myself. It was June 2002. I remember screaming at the top of my lungs. So loud that I could not hear the radio. I could not even hear the wind coming through the windows of my car. I was so angry Mom. So rattled with anger. I screamed for you and for Dad and for Chris and for the uncertain future.

When I spend time with you now, I want to grab a hold of you, of what's inside of you and pull you out, tall and strong, suspending you over all of the madness you have known for so long. I want to wrap you around me and Chris and our daughter like a warm blanket or a glove. So tight that no one can peel you away from us. I want my daughter to slow down long enough to really breathe you and take you in because I fear I will never be able to represent your beauty to her in a way that will ever satisfy me or bring me peace.

I have questions. Things I need to know for myself. Are you scared? Are you ready? Will you be inside of me the way you are inside of Chris and Maeve? Will you talk to me? Will you help me to make the right decisions for myself and for my family? Will you give me signs when I ask for them? Will I do right by your son and your family? Will I make you proud as the mother of your grandchild? Will my child know every facet of you the way Chris knows you? The way I know you? Your nuances? Your inside jokes?

You are the Mother of my everything, my one, true love. You are the Grandmother of what I am most proud of in my life. You are a warrior. A force to be reckoned with. You are goodness and inspiration and valour. You have given me a mother's love that my own mother can never duplicate. Your own personal indelible stamp on my world and on my future.

In my very core I love you Mom. It runs through me like a steam engine. It explodes out of me the way it did that night in my car. It washes over me the way my tears do tonight in my bed and as I sit here writing this to you. No matter what happens, I need you to know that you are a miracle in my life and my life has only improved upon itself for knowing you and sharing in the fabric of this family you have made for us, for me.

In my very core - in the deepest part of me, I love you and have always loved you.