With Mother's Day quickly approaching and the bombardment of ads for gift shopping invading my life, I have been thinking of you quite a lot lately. I decided perhaps writing you a letter on the Internet might be the best way to reach you these days, since even AT&T has not developed a long-distance plan that can reach beyond the grave! Yes, Mother...I AM still irreverent.
I thought you might want to know I'm doing the best I can to take care of myself these days. You unfortunately died before I was diagnosed with MS, but I know you always worried about my health. It appears the Multiple Sclerosis may have been lurking in the shadows even before you passed, but neither I nor the medical community knew it was stirring inside my body. When the doctors finally told me it was there, I really wished you had been around for me to tell because I felt so scared. I know you probably would have given me the advice you always did, which was to "do what the doctors order and tough it out"...it just would have been a comfort to hear you SAY that.
I have been "toughing it out" for the past three years and it hasn't always been easy, Mother. You used to always say, "God never gives us more than we can handle", but there have been times in the previous three years I have wondered if you really knew what you were talking about. It's been hard for me to accept "God" would ever inflict this type of disease on anyone.
This coming week, I am to see my neurologist, who I already know is going to tell me the MS is progressing...my study doc already whispered these words in my ear. And it's not rocket science to figure out some of the symptoms of my last relapse are not going away, indicating "something" has changed significantly.
I'm scared again, Mom. I don't want confirmation of what I already know. I also know THAT sounds somewhat crazy, but hearing it confirmed by the neurologist makes it real and I'm not keen on reality right now. (I know, "straighten up and fly right"...I hear you.)
You used to always tell me, "this, too, shall pass", whenever something difficult or bad happened in my life. I know there is logic in your wisdom, but holding onto that logic these days is hard. I wish you were here to tell me that in person or over the phone...if I close my eyes hard enough and remember, I can almost visualize you saying it..."this, too, shall pass".
There are so many things that happen every day in my life I regret not being able to share with you. Sometimes I wish I would have spent more time with you, called you more often, listened to you, and told you I loved you whenever I could. I suppose we both did the best we could while we could. I have a feeling none of that really matters now to you. You just want me to be happy, healthy, and whole, without regrets. I suspect that may have been all you really wanted for me when you were alive, too.
I miss you, Mom, and I hope wherever you are these thoughts and feelings will reach you in the afterlife. I love you.
Happy Mother's Day,
Your youngest daughter