I’ve always been a very private person when it comes to my mom, but I think it is so important for me to write about this experience, not only to bring awareness about ALS, but for me to remember. The memories I have of her are few. As the years go by, I try to hold on deeply to everything, the way she smelled, the color of her beautiful brown hair, her smile, strength, and independence.
It was in January that my mom first fell for no reason. I don’t remember much about that evening, but I know I spent the night unable to sleep. After two months in the hospital, she wanted to come home to be surrounded by her friends and family, so we got a hospital bed and placed it in her room. Seven months later, she slipped into a coma.
At six my method of trying to make her better was to get two stuffed bears for her. One named Gwen and one named Julie. I placed the bears at the foot of her bed. Everyday I would put drawings and get well cards in their laps. I remember thinking it was the only way I could get through to her.
On October 2, I walked into her room to find it full of people praying around her bed. She had finally finished her battle with ALS and breathed her last breath on this earth. It was in this moment she went to be with God. She was only 38. Once my family told me what happened, I was upset. I don’t remember those moments immediately after. I do remember going outside with my Aunt Betty when they came to take her. We sat outside looking at the full moon just talking. The window in my parents’ room connected to the backyard. I looked back into the room one last time to see them close the blinds and then take her away. I still get tears thinking about seeing her at that final moment. It’s difficult to think that it’s been 19 years since the last time I saw her.
Last year, I was planning for my wedding. I struggled with getting married and not having my mom there. Seeing all these brides with a mom helping them (and annoying them j.k) made me sad and a little jealous. Now that I photograph weddings, my favorite moment is when the mother sees her daughter in the dress for the first time. It always gives me this beautiful image of how my mom would have looked at me. I may not have that photograph, but my brides do. It is a powerful look full of love, happiness, and a moment of seeing a child turn into an adult. It gives me chills just thinking about it.
She is and always will be a part of me. I have her eyes, her hair color, her independent spirit, and her stubbornness. I love everything about her. She always challenged herself and wanted more. She loved my Dad, loved me, and truly wanted the best for us even though we would be without her. I continue to miss her every day.
My mom and I
One of my favorite photos of her.
Just Love…
Photo by my Aunt Janet
