My Momma, My Best Friend

This dove symbolizes support of all people stricken with cancer.
In memory of my mother Deborah Kay Boddie (1951-1994)





When I lost my mother I was only nineteen. I felt like I had lost a part of myself. She had only been sick for a month to our knowledge. I had been away in the Navy for a year to the date the day we had found out that she was sick. March the 9th. I will NEVER forget that date again. I dont think on that date with out thinking Shannon, your mom is dying. My aunt Nancy told me that. I still dont think that I believed it. How do you think those things when you are still a teenager. Regardless if I was out on my own or not. I was still sheltered. The military is a cocoon of parenting of its own. You get money and a home and you have bosses that look out for you and make sure that you keep your nose clean. So essentially you leave from one nest to another.

When I went home to see my mother she looked like I had never seen her before but even though I knew that she was sick and wouldnt be living I had seen people sick and "dying" before. My grandmother had dyed the previous fall. She had been ill for a long time and finally died at age 70. My mother was only 43. I figured that she would pull on for a while. The doctors said she had 6 months, maybe a year (my mother). My command had let me come for a month to stay with my mom. She was in the hospital for most of that time and then came home on a hospice program. Now as an adult and more knowledgeable I know that this is when you go home to die. Then I didnt have any idea what this meant, nor did my chain of command. So they told me it was time for me to come back to work. It was a few days shy of my return date. So I flew back to Norfolk to immerse myself in work and my day to day routine. I actually started in on a drinking binge to try not to think of what I saw when I went home and I am not a drinker. Not really more than sometimes socially. Coming from two alcoholic parents and a line farther back of alcohlics I know that it is in my genes that addictive behavior. Besides, I dont much like feeling out of control but it was easier not to THINK.

So one Wednesday I call and speak to Momma. As with most times I speak to her. She is mostly incoherent. She talks to me like I am three or four again. Or talks to me like I am my aunt Nancy. Tells me that my grandmother or grandfather are in the room with her. Then tells me everyone is being mean to her there. I just agree and cry a bit quietly and keep reassuring her that everything is going to be okay because I know that it is the morphine and pain talking. How can a 19 year old deal with this kind of thing? Speaking to my brother who was 25 at the time now about this even he had trouble dealing with it. This is our strong mother we are talking to. Not someone that cries all the time and doesnt know who she is or who shes speaking to. This is hard. So a few days pass. I cant deal with this from over 1200 miles away. I am just a kid. So I tell Momma she has my pager number and Ill call her on Sunday. But that if she needs me to have them page me. She says ok. I love you Momma. I love you too baby!! My last words from my mother. I miss you!! so much....

Sunday morning. I am housesitting with some friends at another friends house. I get a page from my brother. I call him back. Momma died. Those were his first words. I dont know if he was in shock or what? I dropped the phone and just started banging my head on the ground. My friends had to pick the phone up to see what was wrong. It took three people to stop me from banging. I was incoherent. Just in shock. Whether I knew it was coming or not. My momma is gone. Shes left me .... I didnt know how to react. I was just a kid, a baby. Taken from one nest to another. And now I am an orphan. No place of my own.

Now it has been 9 years. Does it get easier? Yes. I still miss her like crazy. Time does heal all wounds. But there are times Id love to pick up the phone and call my Momma. When I had my daughters I would have loved to have had her there. But I know that she watched from somewhere and was proud of me and saw them. That is the only thing that gets me by. I have to believe that there is a reason for everything or I would never have made it past that time in my life.

My one word of advice to everyone, Hold your mothers close. Love her while you can. She may not be here tomorrow!!



I got this poem/story through email and it touched me as I hope that it will touch you. It truly made me think of my mother.

Mother's Path of Life

The young mother set her foot on the path of life. "Is this the long way?" she asked.

And the guide said: "Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning."

But the young mother was happy, and she would not believe that anything could be better than these years. So she played with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and the young Mother cried,"Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."

Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, and the children said, "Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come."

And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children," A little patience and we are there." So the children climbed, and when they reached the top they said, "Mother, we would not have done it without you."

And the mother, when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said," This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage. Today, I have given them strength."

And the next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said: "Look up. Lift your eyes to the light." And the children looked and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory, and it guided them beyond the darkness. And that night the Mother said, "This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God."

And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew old and she was little and bent. But her children were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And when the way was rough, they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came to a hill, and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide. And mother said: "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end is better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children after them."

And the children said, "You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates." And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. And they said: "We cannot see her, but she is with us still. A Mother like ours is more than a memory. She is a living presence."

Your Mother is always with you. She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street; she's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks; she's the cool hand on your brow when you're not well. Your Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized in every teardrop.

She's the place you came from, your first home; and she's the map you follow with every step you take. She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you... Not time, not space...not even death! Temple Bailey © 1933

The angel theme on this page symbolizes
my mother being my guardian angel!!







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