My mom slipped away from us

Hello friends.

Late in the afternoon on June 7 my mom slipped away when no one was watching.

Her fight was long and hard, and she never complained, and always corrected any of us if we began a spiral of self-pity because of what cancer had done to change our lives. She gave our family a beautiful gift by the way she chose to fight, with grace and determination and extraordinary spirit. Her unwavering faith kept her strong.

In the last week, she had lost much of the spark from her eyes. Her spirit was far too beautiful and expansive to be weighed down under a body that simply couldn't support her anymore.

Thank you for your support -- I was incredibly grateful for an intelligent and caring community to support me any time I had questions on my mom's behalf, or any time I just needed to hear that I wasn't alone.

On the day she died, she spent extra time with me in the morning; she asked me to re-wrap her arm, even though I knew that would be difficult. She joked with me about being worried about who was taking care of George Clooney and his new babies. (It was the day after his wife gave birth). She told me to go to work, spent time with my dad and brother... She was struggling to eat anything, but tried to eat an ice cream cone late in the day. My dad left the living room to call me for just a moment to tell me she was weak but ok; and just 2 minutes later she had stopped breathing. As peaceful an ending as we could have hoped for after a very difficult 4 years.

We had a simple Catholic Funeral for her, sang her favorite songs, played some folk music before church, and had vanilla ice cream cones in her honor at the doors of the church.

I'd like to share with you the words I shared at my mom's funeral mass--very few of them were about cancer because I believe that the rest of her life was what defined her; cancer simply became a path at the end that she was gifted to walk down. I wish you all light and love, and hope that your journey remains a good one; my mom would have said it's what we've been given, and shame on us if we don't thank God each day for what he has offered.

Love and light, love and light.

-Emily

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My mother probably would not love seeing me standing in front of a church talking this morning. I've wondered all week if a thunderstorm would hit right at this moment, and if it does, you all will know exactly what she thinks of the fuss we've gone through to place this gorgeous, loving, warm-hearted woman to rest. I decided to risk it; I think I would regret it more if I didn't say just a few words aboutmy incredible mother. Adam wanted to talk, too, but we independently had the exact same idea of how to say what we wanted to say, we both were raised in the same way. He decided he was the science brain and I was the art brain, and so these are words from both of her kids. His talk would probably be a little shorter, but I won't let this last long.

My mom lived a quiet, humble life. "Nothing special," she would say. She was the happiest in her home, with her dog, and sometimes without any of the family around. When everything was done, and the house was cleaned and she could settle in with a cup of coffee she was at her very best. She truly believed that everything that she had was perfect.

My mom was good at many things—she was crafty, kind, empathetic, faithful—but she was best at being a mother. Any one who she offered her motherly advice to—and I know that extends well beyondmy brother and I—will likely agree. We may not have always agreed with what she said, but in the end there was never a time she steered us wrong.

In that spirit, I don't want to take up too much time today (she would be saying to get on with it, already), but I'd like to leave you with ten lessons that I learned from my mom.

1. Lead with love. My mom never put herself first. We weren't a family that said "I love you" often or at all, because it was simply a given. We always had everything we could possibly need. She was able to impart that same feeling on to everyone that she met, with the words she would pick to use, the look in her eye, and a heart of pure gold.
2. Enjoy the simple things. Coffee and donuts. The front porch on a cool evening. Puppies. The first snowfall of the season. Birds singing early in the morning. Trees glowing with the splendor of autumn. A giant rubber duck on the river. Movies, but only after they came out on DVD. My momfound the greatest joy in the simple comforts of life. She was happiest at home with Maxwell House coffee, her puppies — Duchess, and then miss Lucy. She couldn't understand my desire to travel when everything she wanted was completely within her reach. She built a beautiful home and her family flocked to it and her because she had created something so beautiful.
3. The kids come first. Halloween was my mom's favorite time of year. She would buy the really big candy bars, send most kids off with more than one, and kept very close track of how many kids we had so that we could be prepared next year. "They only come around and ask for this one night a year" she would say. "We should treat them well." I believe we always will.
4. It's all about perspective. "There is nothing too special about getting hurt, getting over it that takes the work" My mom never saw a problem as 'too big.' It just needed to be worked through, and we had enough to figure it out. Her own struggles were absolutely no harder than anyone else's and we should respect that we are all in it together.
5. Above all, have faith. My mom instilled in both of her kids an unflinching belief in God and in something that we couldn't see, but instead had to believe in. Her faith was unshakable. When asked how she was, she would always respond that she was "Great! The Lord gave me this day, and shame on me to not enjoy it!" and could say this as she went for chemo, surgery, or wound up in a hospital room with the same verve as she would if everything really was peaceful. While she loved science, she'd be the first to say that we don't know everything, and it's the guy upstairs who really has control.
6. Do some slightly crazy things with passion. She would not like me for saying it, but my momcollected Beanie Babies. And I don't know what to do with them, now. She also made sure that her kids had any new hot toy for Christmas, and NEVER came up short. My mom loved having a quest. It wasn't so much about the thing—It was about finding the joy in the hunt and it was about love. It was also about knowing that not everything that we do in this life needs to make sense; sometimes something a little bit crazy is perfectly acceptable.
7. Don't put it off. Adam got this lesson hand's down—He will not rest until the important things are finished. I'm still working on this one; somehow I took after my dad. Things not being finished keptmy mom up at night. It didn't matter if it were big or small, simple or complex, there won't always be a tomorrow. On the day that my mom died, my brother was cutting the grass; he left it half-cutfor a night—and nothing was more important the next day that getting it finished. That would have made my mom crazy, and it made my brother crazy, too. (As for me, I might not have noticed.)
8. Trust that you are right where you ought to be. To outsiders, my mom walked down a tough road. She didn't think so. And she never complained. It may take time to see the bigger picture, but we were here for a reason. If anyone began a chorus of 'why me' she would immediately turn it around into 'why NOT me?' She believed that her entire family was learning from her experience with cancer. She showed us what it looked like to never, ever stop living.
9. Persist. Before that was a thing, my mom knew how to do it. This past Christmas my mom wrapped a gift for me. That doesn't sound like much, but consider that she only had one hand with which she could wrap—her left arm was not mobile enough to help. Can you fathom wrapping any gift with just one hand? It wouldn't be easy. But my mom thought it was important, and knew it was nothing that she couldn't overcome; so she did it. I kept it wrapped as a reminder of her determined spirit. I'd like to believe that this one I have really taken to heart…anyone who I work with will tell you that I don't seem to take 'no' for an answer, and find ways to make pretty much anything that seems important happen.
10. Listen. No one could listen as well as my mom. She heard what you said. She heard what you didn't say. Any time one of her kids came to her with a crisis, she would listen carefully, and often would not offer advice. She would listen so fiercely that we would keep going until we began to unravel our own problem. Instead of a harsh spike of the ball, she would react with a soft 'volley.' It was a gift. I have found that what I have craved the most in the last week has been quiet time. It will not be the same to find quiet without her supportive presence next to me, but I think that in the stillness and in the quiet and the softening I will hear her voice again—supporting and loving and listening in a way that few others really can.

I learned so much more than that from my mom. She gave so much, and asked for so little in return. Mymom had a thing with angels. She has a beautiful collection, and they circle our home. She used to say 'may the light of the angels circle and protect this home until morning' each night; and I believe that many of you were angels to my mom and to my family. This week, perhaps as a bit of a distraction, I thought it was very important to make something for anyone who came to her mass today—they are at the doors of the church, and I hope you will take one with you and hang it somewhere to protect you. I thank you, and hope that the angel protects you as they have protected us.

Just one last story before I go—On the day my mom died, we were struggling to get her to eat anything. Finally, late in the afternoon, my dad got her to try to eat a small vanilla ice-cream cone, which she ate as well as she could. My dad walked away from her for just a few moments — calling me to tell me that mom was weak but ok, I was about to be on my way home from work, my brother, after visiting for a while after work was outside cutting the grass — and when my dad came back, he found that she had stopped breathing. She slipped away, just like that. Truly on her terms, at home, with all of the people she loved around her on the last day, eating an ice cream cone.

So, in the spirit of my mom's incredible spirit, we ALSO have ice-cream cones at the doors of church today. You don't need to linger--Enjoy it like you would have when you were a kid—Before lunch and everything. My mom would have wanted you to walk away from this service with a smile on your face and a laugh in your heart. She would tell you, as I do right now, that you ought to enjoy this beautiful day—it is an incredible gift, and it's up to us to honor that and do everything we can to love each and every moment.

And one final word of advice directly from my mom's mouth, if she is still living, or even if she is not, call your mother, tell her that you love her and that you are doing great.

God bless.

http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/triblive-valley-news-dispatch/obituary.aspx?n=lorraine-balawejder&pid=185827847&fhid=4271