I miss my mom. Though Alzheimer’s took her away from us many years prior to her actual death, I would give anything to hug her one more time. To feel her soft skin one more time. To see the light in her eyes one more time. Even if she didn’t remember me…that was a sobering realization in itself. I learned to let go of my selfish desire to have her back, as I realized that wherever she was in her mind, her spirit was at peace.
My aunt (her baby sister) had a special way of getting her to come back to the here and now. She’d joke with her and call her by her endearing nickname, Roro (short for Rosemarie).
The last time I saw her in the assisted living facility, in 2018, I hugged her and kissed her as though it were the last time. Somehow I knew I would not be seeing her again.
She passed away on March 31, 2020 of a heart attack. She had a lifelong heart murmur, having had rheumatic fever as a child. Due to the deteriorating effects of Alzheimer’s, she had also been experiencing choking episodes.
They were able to resuscitate her after her heart attack, but due to her cognitive decline, she did not wake up and peacefully passed away three days later.
Due to the current state of the COVID-19 pandemic, we could not fly up to New York to see her in those last three days. Thankfully, my aunt Face-timed us so my two kids and I could say goodbye. We also could not attend her mass or burial. All of this was on hold. After months of needing closure, I encouraged my aunt to proceed with the mass and burial of mom’s ashes and to videotape it for us down here in Florida.
On Sunday, July 27, 2020, my brother, Chuck, hosted a celebration of life for mom at his house. We planned on making one of Mom’s favorite meals: lasagna, Caesar salad and garlic bread.
I planned on making the lasagna and he was going to take care of the Caesar salad and garlic bread. However, a shoulder injury prevented me from making the lasagna so we went with Plan B. We had pizza and my bestie, Maria, brought a homemade cake that her friend had helped bake.
The celebration of life did not provide me with the closure I expected. I really don’t know what I expected that day….some kind of overwhelming relief or end to my sadness? Nope. I am learning not to have expectations in life, as it sets you up for disappointment. Instead, I am trying to learn to appreciate the moment for what it is. We had a family gathering to honor Mom in our own ways.
Not to mention, my son and I had words (I’ll explain on another blog) and this was a direct result of my expectations. I was holding him accountable for my feelings that day and not considering his feelings about his grandmother. My daughter was an angel and consoled me after my melt down.
I understand that I will have sad days about my mom and miss her deeply. That’s okay. It will take time to cope and understand these emotions. I also understand that both of my kids are trying to cope in their own way, as is my brother and my aunt.
A few days after her passing I was sitting on my back porch and out of nowhere, I felt chills and with utter clarity, I saw her. It was a younger version of her, back in 1970. She was crouched down with one of our baby pigs. It was cold out and she had on a fleece lined suede coat….I had always remembered the smell of her suede coat from that day…it was so clear and so real that I felt her there with me and the scent of her coat filled my nostrils.
I had seen this years before in an old family photo – I went and found it. Maybe this was a time in her life when she was happiest. Maybe that’s why she came to me that day on the back porch.
Why is it only after someone passes away that we receive so many life realizations with acute clarity? How much I loved my mom came crashing in afterwards. I received a deep sense of unspeakable appreciation for her. I realized just how many life lessons I had learned from her, without her ever uttering a word.
I learned to make peace with all those “I should haves” and know that she lived the life she chose, not a life that I should find anguish with because it wasn’t according to my value or belief system.
I am so thankful for the memories!!
Her legacy was her children and grandchildren and her ability to forgive and love us unconditionally. Thankfully, she bestowed that legacy of love unto myself and my children.
I miss you, Mama! 
Kelli P Coats 