No Regrets

One of the advantages of a disease like Huntington's is that it's a long, slow death. There is plenty of time to tell your loved ones that they are, indeed, loved.

After her husband died, my mom came to live in Albuquerque, at a nursing home not far from my house. She was still mobile then; I could take her to her favorite restaurant, Cracker Barrel, and out for ice cream. I could bring her to my home, where she and the dog cuddled on my couch. I visited her often, telling her the latest campaign news—she asked me every day if it was time to vote yet. I took her to HD Support Group meetings once a month, where she was finally able to meet others with her condition. She was, with her mental decline, in many ways like a child to me then, a role reversal that I, oddly, cherished.

When I found out my husband was being transferred to England, I didn't want to leave. I avoided telling my mom, fearing her disappointment, but when I finally did, she was just happy to be taking another plane trip, back to Louisiana. Fortunately, she couldn't understand what a permanent move meant. Just like any three-year-old, she truly lived for the moment, and moments with ice cream, or with my dog, were her favorites.

In December when I was home, she could no longer verbalize much, except with her eyes. But after a long, one-sided conversation, in which I reminded her about her childhood, particularly the time she ran away from school, I realized that we had shared common fears growing up. She understood, that time in first grade when I locked her out of the car so she couldn't patiently drag me, once again, kicking and screaming down the hall, that I was terrified, not just misbehaving. (I found out later she tried unsuccessfully to have me moved to another teacher's class.) That's also why she sat with me, night after night, when I was too scared to sleep alone after the house next door burned down.

In the sixties, parents in small town Louisiana didn't bring their children to therapists, they punished and threatened them instead. But my mom never did that. So I told her, after that one-sided conversation, that she was a good mother, and I really meant that. She looked up at me, and said very clearly, "Thank you, Kathy."

She died in her sleep early Saturday morning, after possibly developing pneumonia from aspirating food. (The last thing she ate, thankfully, was ice cream.) There was no time for me to go and tell her, one more time, that I loved her.

But I have no regrets, even though I won't be there for her memorial service today. Sure, I wish I'd visited more often. I wish I hadn't had to move away. But I know she knew I loved her, and that she was a good mom.

Comments

[Vol Abroad]

I'm so sorry Kathy, but I'm glad you got to say the things you wanted to say.

[Katharine]

Very powerful memories, Kathy. I am so glad you had those times with your mother.

[Elayne Riggs]

Oh Kathy, it's so wonderful to have closure. I don't know if I felt that much closure when my Dad got killed in March, because it was all so sudden, but at least there was no animosity at the end. You're truly blessed to have had that much time with your Mom.

[Rod]

I'm happy for you that you had the chance to tell your mom that one last time what she had meant to you - as a mother, than like a child, but I'm sure always a friend - and I'm sure she knew exactly what you were saying. Our thoughts are with you and your daughters.

[Diane]

I'm so sorry for you to lose your mom, and glad that you were able to say to her what you needed to say. It is so difficult to lose a parent, and to lose a good mother is a great loss, indeed. You were lucky to have each other.

[TChem]

She sounds like a lovely lady, and raised one, too.

My sympathies.

[kt]

It's beautiful to have that time, those memories, and no regrets.

Peace to you and your mother.

[cookiecrumb]

I'm so sorry, Kathy. I hope you are doing well.

[barb]

Having no regrets is a powerful thing and a wonderful gift in many ways. An earned gift of course. Peace to you and yours.

[Ginger Mayerson]

Sorry, Kathy.

[sam]

that was a very moving and special post and it sounds like you had a very special mother.

[KathyR]

You were a little dickens, as my late mother would have said.

I'm glad you were able to connect with your mom before she died. You're a pretty good daughter, too.

[scottishvegan]

Kathy, that was so touching. Your Mum sounded like a lovely lady, as do you.

[eRobin]

Oh, Kathy, I'm sorry to read this. I very glad to read that you have no regrets. That's such a blessing. Your story about first grade made me smile.

Love you - lots of positive thoughts your way.

[bazu]

your story has taught me a lesson. I'm so glad that you and your mother got closure, and that you do not have any regrets. That truly is something to be greatful for.

[knitnana]

A lovely tribute to your relationship.
My thoughts are with you.
(((hugs)))

[Julie]

Kathy,

I am so sorry.

Julie

[NewMexiKen]

Kathy,

Very best wishes for you and your family.

Ken

[catherine]

Oh, Kathy. I am so sorry for your loss. Please know that your mother is at peace and let that peace comfort you. It helped me when I lost my Mommmy four years ago.

[Kathy]

Kathy, I'm so sorry. Losing a parent isn't easy, no matter how sick they are or how much time you have to prepare. Blessings on you.

[Claire]

Kathy, I'm so sorry. My thoughts are with you and your family.