Mom

Lou's mom was a dear, dear woman. She was first generation Greek, her parents were from Sparta. She was strong, like you would expect a Spartan to be, but gentle, loving, and caring. Her family was her life. She met Lou's father in a somewhat "arranged" manner, and it worked. Interestingly, he was sixteen years older than her, born in Greece (but that is another story entirely). When they married, she was uprooted from Chicago to the tiny town downstate of Pekin Illinois. She knew no one. Her life was not easy, though of course, she would never admit that. Raised four children while Lou's dad worked very very hard. All went to college, on academic scholarships, Lou's dad only finished second grade, and his mom did not finish high school if I remember correctly. She was also, beautiful. Lou adored and honored her. He called her every sunday night, no matter where he was in the world. He showered her with gifts of all manner. Lovely clothes, jewelry, trips, television sets. Nothing was too good for his mom, as he called her. He always felt it was unfortunate that she could not continue her schooling, that she could not have worked outside the home in some manner. Lou was always so supportive of women working outside the home. Lou's father died many years ago, leaving his mom alone in Pekin, the kids grown. She was stubborn, and would not leave. We tried to get her to move up to Chicago, she wouldn't do it. As the years went on, she began to be forgetful. Living alone can do that to you. At first it was manageable, with lots of note taking and reminder phone calls and visits. Fortunately, Lou's brother lived nearby. It progressed. She would forget to eat and wasn't taking care of herself. A serious bout of dehydration and a fall landed her in the hospital, and from there, into a "home". This happened while we were away on vacation. I won't get into it here, but it was devastating to all of us, but especially to Lou. In the "home" environment, she very quickly slipped into a state of confusion, never to return. It was heartbreaking to see her. Gut wrenching. She died after living there for a few years. It was not as it should have been. It could have been better for her, her last days could have been better. Had we been in town, maybe the outcome would have been different, who knows. Once she was in the "home", she could not be moved. It was done, it was over. Lou never quite recovered from that pain, it haunted him. And then, the brain tumor came. And all that it brought with it. Lou could not remember that his mom was gone. Daily, he would ask, "how's Mom?". Sometimes several times in the same half hour. Before we fully understood the magnitude of destruction the tumor had created, we would answer truthfully, thinking that with repetition, it would stick. We would tell him that mom had passed on. This truth brought shock, tears, and disbelief. He would ask "when did it happen", "how did it happen", "did she suffer", "was I there", etc etc etc. You would think that it had been understood and digested, only to have the question raised again twenty minutes later. This went on for months. We got smart and told Lou that his mom was fine, and that she was down in Pekin. It was much much better to handle it that way. It seemed to satisfy him. He never, ever stopped asking about her. He held her so close, so deeply in his heart and soul. Near the end, he saw her. He told me she was in the room. I know she was. She was waiting for him. It was a comfort to me, to know that he would be reunited with her. That there would no longer be the unending questions, the pain and confusion. I'm thinking about that today. I'm thinking about Lou's deep love for his mother. I'm thinking about the fact that they are together, celebrating this Mother's Day, together at last. No need for material gifts. Eternal love. It's more than enough. Happy Mother's Day.