Another May 13th

 

     It was 3 years ago today, May 13, 2010, that I lost my mom. It was 47 years ago, May 13, 1966 that she lost her mother, my grandmother. May 13th, Mother's Day, they always come together and I remember that Mother's Day was always bittersweet for my mom. I get it now, I wish I could tell her that.

 

     In many ways it seems as if she has been gone forever and sometimes it seems as if those 3 months from a healthy, happy mom to losing her, just happened yesterday. I'm still using a bottle of her perfume and it hasn't been long enough that the bottle is empty yet. There are so many things I wish I could ask her and so much that I would love to tell her.

 

     She lost her mother very suddenly when she was 36, with 2 little girls at home to raise. She never faltered. I never saw her cry although my dad said that she did often. She was the type of woman who protected her children from seeing her pain. I was only 11, so I had no idea what she was going through. I lost her at 55. I cried every day for the first year and some days I thought I wouldn't survive without her here. I wasn't stoic like she was, I called my daughter in tears many times and she was there for me in ways that I only wish I could have been for my mom.  

 

     Mom absolutely lived for her grandkids. She would hate this picture...but, you can see the love as she held my son for the first time. She is younger in both of these pictures with my babies than I am now. From that moment on, they shared a very special bond.

 

My daughter, a vision in pink on the way home

 from the hospital, also captured her heart.

 

     In the 3 years she has been gone, there have been so many changes in our family. My sister has had two daughters get married, I have one engaged. She would have been so happy for our girls and as wonderful as these moments are...something is just missing without her there. Some of her 6 grands have really thrived in the past 3 years, others have struggled and her youngest...is now 17, driving, going to prom and growing into a beautiful young lady.

 

     Mom was our rock, the glue that held our family together. She was the one that we could talk to, who never minced words with us. When we spoke, she really listened and our kids had a respect for her opinions that they have never had for ours.

 

     Life does go on and it certainly has in our family. Some wonderful things have happened since she left us and some not so great. We have had to adjust to things that are painful and difficult and yet we have survived. My sister and I are closer than ever, my daughter has really tried to step up and fill the void left by my mom, even though I tell her it isn't her job to "mother" me. People say it gets easier, and it does. The pain is no longer acute. I no longer wake up crying in the night and when I think of mom, I smile. The missing her, never gets better. She is with me every day of my life...and I wouldn't have it any other way.

 

     So, is May 13th a day of sorrow for me? Not really. I don't miss her more today than any other day, every other day. Is it jinxed that her mother died on May 13th and so did my Mom? I could think that (and I probably wouldn't go sky-diving today), or I could remember what someone wise told me...it is a special day. It is the day my Mom got to see her Mom again, after a long separation. I think that is a much better way to think of it. Love you Mom.

 

Our last "3 generation" picture.

There Are Good Days, Bad Days and There Was Yesterday

Nike-1996

     We knew it was coming, but that didn't make it easier. I thought that after losing 3 parents in the past two years, I knew horrible grief and this would be somehow different. I knew that she had lived longer than any dog I had ever known. I knew that she had been spoiled beyond belief and had the best life a dog could ever want. My brain knew all of that, but my heart did not.

     Her AKC paperwork shows her name as Nike, The Duchess of Air. Named by my children, who at 11 & 13 when she came to us, were just falling in love with the sport of running. To us, she was simply Nike. The runt of a litter of puppies from Indiana, found on the internet (I was high tech even in 1996) and fitting into my hand the day we brought her home. I thought a lot of that day yesterday, how she whimpered all the way home...how we stopped along the way to walk her, how she didn't stop shaking for about 3 days and mostly how she was immediately loved.

Nike in her prime (sorry kids)!

     She was a beautiful beagle, mostly brown and so well-behaved from the day we got her. My daughter said a few days ago that she wasn't her pet, she felt more like a sibling...and I think that was true for all of us. She was family, for 16 years. She was family when my kids were growing up. She was family after they left home. She was family through all of our ups and our downs, always the one to love unconditionally and to know just the right time to curl up in your lap and give you a moment of peace.

     We had hoped that she would pass away in her sleep. The past year we have seen her failing. The past four weeks have been really sad. She woke one morning to front legs that seemed weak and would barely support her, yet she still managed to stagger around the house. There have been days where she wouldn't eat or drink and days where we hand fed her bits of salmon. For the first time in a year, she wanted to be held again and I carried her around like a baby. She lost half her body weight in four weeks and yet she didn't give up. She wasn't in pain, so we tried to let her go on her own...but, when we carried her outside Tuesday morning and she fell over and couldn't get up...we just couldn't let it go on. Later that day, she was walking around again...but, we knew it was time.

Nike-Yesterday, in her favorite spot.

     We made arrangements to take her in at 4:30 yesterday afternoon. So, I tried to give her a really good day. I held her most of the day. We went outside and I laid her on a blanket in a sunbeam so she could feel the warmth of the sun and smell the grass. I fed her as many tiny biscuits as she wanted and one last bowl (bites) of salmon. We talked about all of the things that we had done over the years and I wept like a baby all day long. Losing Nike isn't at all like losing my mother...but, it was Nike that I held on to when I cried after losing my mom. It was Nike that curled up next to me for days on end a few years back when my son got off track and tried to drive us insane for a couple years. It was Nike who was my only friend when I moved to a new town and empty-nested at the same time. It was Nike who meant I was never truly alone. She was as much a part of this family as the rest of us and today, we grieve and are so thankful for having her in our lives for all these years. She was the "family dog" and while having Zoe (who at 9 months shows no signs of being nearly as well-behaved as her big sister) helps...she will be loved, but she will never be the dog of my children or the dog that shared all the memories of them growing up.

     The wonderful place where we board our dogs when we travel is located about 20 miles from our home, in the woods. It was a place that Nike loved and a place where she was loved. They have a pet cemetery and yesterday they were coming to pick her up at the vet to bury her there. We will visit in a few days. I hope she is running after squirrels and rabbits, nose high in the air and giving that beautiful beagle howl as loud as she can. Goodbye, sweet friend.