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Angelia Foster --
30 days to live…for most of us that is a simplified overstatement of something we really can’t imagine…if we take a moment (or a few weeks) to mull it over in our minds, we can come up with a quick list of things we would do…like travel, quit our jobs, eat everything we love and not exercise, you know the basic list of things we want to do. Briefly we think about it, and then get right back to our normal lives, not really making the connection.
But in December, that simplified overstatement became my mother’s life. On December 7th, my mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 Gastric Cancer that had spread to her diaphragm, aorta, liver and other places. She was only 54 years old. She never asked how long she had left, but we all knew we had less time than we wanted. Before her diagnosis, I would probably have given similar answers to the question of what I would do if I only had a month to live.
My mom, on the other hand, couldn’t travel, even though I know she wanted to. She had to quit her job, even though she didn’t want to. She wanted to eat her favorites like Banana Pudding and Chicken and Dumplings, but due to the cancer, couldn’t. So, that list we make up is based on an assumption that we would be able to do those things…that we would be physically able to. So, if we take those off the table, what would we be left with?
During the last 30 days, there instead of focusing on what she couldn’t do, she focused on what she could. She was able to take care of things that really mattered. She spent as much time as possible with her 10 grandchildren, 3 children and her husband. She visited with her sister, brothers and daddy. She made spiritual and life changing decisions. She secured her legacy.
Since we were in the holiday season, she asked me to go out and buy an ornament for each child, specific to them and where they were in their life, from her for Christmas. She made me promise that we would continue to add ornaments each year, from their Nana. She insisted that we continue the Christmas traditions, including the over the top decorations to entertain her grandkids. We always had Christmas Eve at their home, and after several times in and out of the hospital, she willed herself home, and we celebrated Christ’s birth, at 11:00 pm, when she got there. She watched each child and grandchild open their gifts and smiled with wonder as they giggled and squealed at what she had bought for them months before. as she had done for years.
She had my brother take a picture with each grandchild, and had her hands and their hands photographed as well. Making sure the kids had pictures, even ones where she did not feel well or look her best, was important…it was part of her legacy. You see, my mom saw the world in pictures. Having been born with no vision in her left eye, and eventually being diagnosed as legally blind, God had blessed her with the ability to be an excellent photographer. She loved capturing people and places and telling the real stories. Eventually, God healed her eyesight and she was able to legally drive again, and capture pictures wherever she went. So, continuing the photography legacy was part of her. And, in her mothering way, asking my brother, who often avoided family gatherings to take the pictures and reminding him, that after she was gone that it was his responsibility, kept him connected to us.
With her failing health, my dad and I took turns spending the night with her in bed. In between all the medical things we had to do, like tube feedings, blood draws, insulin shots and med checks, we would talk all night. She would tell me how she hoped I knew how proud she was of me for the life I was living and the mother I had become. She asked me to promise to look after my dad and help him to remember that God had blessed her with him. We talked about the hard life she had. You see, my mom was married before to two abusive men. They had also abused her kids. She talked about how God used those dark periods to really allow her to trust him. She asked my forgiveness for the bad stuff that had happened when I was a kid. And I gave it freely. Even though, long ago, as a Christian, I had forgiven her, I knew that she needed to hear me say, “Mom, I forgive you”. And, I shared with her that all that hard stuff helped me to learn to trust God with everything; good, bad, ugly and beautiful. She reminded me that everything happens for a reason, and that God will not allow your heart to break in ways that he can’t mend it back together. Even if that heartbreak was dying too early or losing your mom too young.
She decided to finally take steps to secure her future with God. She had always been a Christian, but had feared organized religion because when she was a young woman, she became pregnant with me, unmarried. The church she grew up in asked her to apologize to the congregation for her sin. This had really hurt her. And yet, through it all, she always believed in God. She knew that Jesus died for her sins and longed to understand how she fit into God’s plan. After being a high school drop out, she eventually went back to college, graduated with honors and a master’s in Theology. All in her quest to gain a greater knowledge of God and to seek him. As the end was drawing near, she asked me to promise to help her become Catholic before she died. With everything she had learned about God, she had made the decision to join the Catholic Church. And thanks to Fr. Hoeffler, of Blessed Sacrament, my mom was able to do just that 3 days before she passed away. It was her path to God…and I was secure in knowing that I would see her again in heaven.
My mom had lived a life that really didn’t require a lot of major adjustments in the last 30 days. She lived a full life-- loved unconditionally, forgave abundantly, and walked in an unashamed confidence that she was a child of God’s, and that he had a purpose for her life. She never let the bad situations or circumstances become a reason to hide or not to trust God. In fact, she taught me to use them to glorify God and to thank him for the blessings that can come from hard times.
In the days that followed, I thought about what my legacy will be. Will it be even a small percentage of what my mother’s had been? She might have only had 54 years but she left a legacy of faith, love and re-assurance that God has a plan for each of us. That loving my husband, children, father and family is part of that legacy. Helping them to learn to trust God with all things, and to turn to him in the dark times, are also a part of my heritage. And, ultimately, I won’t be remembered for where I traveled to, or the career I choose, but by how I showed the love of Christ to others. Did I do enough to let others see his light in my life? She also reminded me that I could do anything (including taking on her medical treatment) if I trusted God to be there when I felt weak. That it was ok with God to be angry sometimes, as long as you remember, that he has a plan, even when you don’t understand it. And that 30 days to live, is really what we should all be trying to do everyday, anyway. In my mom’s last 28 days, she showed me that the light burns brighter at the end, if you have lived in a way that let it glow all along. And as I celebrate the first Mother’s Day without her, I know she is pleased that I am showing others that faith in God will get you through the difficult and hard times, and that wisdom is now a part of our shared legacy. Happy Mother’s Day Mother and thank you!
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