Monday, June 30, 2008
Written Friday, June 27 2008:
As I sit here, writing this on my BlackBerry, I have this surreal feeling. This must be a dream. It has to be. At 2:36 this morning, the woman who raised me, Helen Rose Waters, passed away. My mother is dead.
In the cruelest of ironies, today is her birthday.
I’ve feared this day, raced against time, trying to outlive this day. There was so much I wanted her to see. There was so much I wanted to share. She was my best friend. There was no one who knew me better. There was no one who understood me. She knew my looks, my heart, my thoughts: she could tell just from the way I said, “Hey,” exactly how I was doing.
She demanded that we talked everyday. No matter where in the world I was. Imagine how frustrating that got trying to find an international payphone in Madrid…But that was the deal; she supported my need to wander, my inability to sit still as long as I remembered that no matter where I might find (or lose) myself, I was and still am hers. This much she told me, every time I got a little too beside myself, which was much too often. “Listen lil girl,” she would say to my 5’9 frame. Towering over her never stopped her from grabbing me and forcing me down for a kiss on my forehead.
That woman loved me. Good or bad, right or wrong, she loved me. And although I’m at a loss about what to do now, I am so very grateful that I was able to sit at her side and hold her hand as the last breath left her body. She knew I was there.
“Don’t worry Ma, Jas is gonna stay here with you,” was the last thing my Father said before he left the hospital.
“Oh good.” she reached for my hand and let out a small sigh. "Good."
I will forever thank God for that.
Now somebody cue Kanye.
As I sit here, writing this on my BlackBerry, I have this surreal feeling. This must be a dream. It has to be. At 2:36 this morning, the woman who raised me, Helen Rose Waters, passed away. My mother is dead.
In the cruelest of ironies, today is her birthday.
I’ve feared this day, raced against time, trying to outlive this day. There was so much I wanted her to see. There was so much I wanted to share. She was my best friend. There was no one who knew me better. There was no one who understood me. She knew my looks, my heart, my thoughts: she could tell just from the way I said, “Hey,” exactly how I was doing.
She demanded that we talked everyday. No matter where in the world I was. Imagine how frustrating that got trying to find an international payphone in Madrid…But that was the deal; she supported my need to wander, my inability to sit still as long as I remembered that no matter where I might find (or lose) myself, I was and still am hers. This much she told me, every time I got a little too beside myself, which was much too often. “Listen lil girl,” she would say to my 5’9 frame. Towering over her never stopped her from grabbing me and forcing me down for a kiss on my forehead.
That woman loved me. Good or bad, right or wrong, she loved me. And although I’m at a loss about what to do now, I am so very grateful that I was able to sit at her side and hold her hand as the last breath left her body. She knew I was there.
“Don’t worry Ma, Jas is gonna stay here with you,” was the last thing my Father said before he left the hospital.
“Oh good.” she reached for my hand and let out a small sigh. "Good."
I will forever thank God for that.
Now somebody cue Kanye.
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3 comments:
wow.i cant even think of anything to say right now except be strong.im over here grumbling about my problems and you are going through so much more
last night i saw you in my dreams/now i cant wait to go to sleep
hey sorry to hear that
i wilol keep u and yours in my prayers
Hey Beautiful!!
I just wanted to take a moment and tell you that my thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this very difficult time. It was very clear from your words how much you loved your mother and just how much she loved you!! Sounds like you were blessed to have been born to this great woman!! Stay strong and know that I am sending hugs through the blogosphere.
- The Sauda Voice
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