I saw a post the other day from someone whose mother had died a few years back and the post said that she doesn’t have a mother anymore so she cannot celebrate Mother’s Day. I could not disagree more. I lost my mother in November, but I still have a mother… it’s just a different situation. My mom is in my heart. Always has been. Always will be.
My mom was an amazing teacher and then I was born, and she had to give it up to take care of me. The ironic thing is I think I may have learned more from her when she wasn’t a teacher than any of her students during her tenure.
My mom taught me to be the dad to my children that she was as a mom to me and Emily. I advocate for my children the same way she did for us. Mom had this ability to be compassionate while also being tough.
People don’t understand how special a CF mom is unless they have CF. Mom did my postural drainage nearly every day and sometimes twice a day and taught me how to eventually take on that responsibility for myself once I got the physio vest. She opened up my pills, put the granules in apple sauce and made sure I took each one. She would later teach me how to swallow pills which I do 40 to 50 times a day now. She carried my pills around, so I didn’t feel overwhelmed by my disease but taught me to remember them so I was ready for the moment when she wasn’t there 24/7. She went to all my clinic appointments with me when I was a little boy and always tried to console me when the doctor scared me with any sort of information. Mom spent nearly every trip with me so she could do my physiotherapy and when she couldn’t because I needed “me” time, she taught others to do it including my aunt, my fourth grade teacher and eventually my wife. She fought for me and taught me how to have the strength to fight for myself. Mom taught me by her example how to love my spouse and children unconditionally. The thing is I learned that’s not necessarily an “every mom” thing. That’s just something my mom did and did so well. Eva Lipman was special. I wish I’d told her more. That’s one of my biggest regrets.
Mom, the last few weeks of your life, you fought so hard. You taught me what being a warrior was all about, and that’s why I’m dedicating my next book to you and recognizing parents of CF children in the book who play such a big role in their children’s outlook on life.
Mom, today is Mother’s Day. My first without you. I am seeing posts of people celebrating their moms and I so badly want to celebrate you but it’s too difficult right now. I avoid the Hallmark section at the supermarket. I change the channel when the theme is Mother’s Day. I cry when I think of our last days together.
On this first Mother’s Day that I will be unable to call you, take you to brunch or laugh at how we are still using my Bar Mitzvah napkins for special events because you bought far too many, I wanted to tell you that while I may not be celebrating “Mother’s Day,” I’m aware that I had a mother, I still have her and I still love her. I am always celebrating you, Mom, and your impact on me and your family.
Mom, I love you. I am proud to be your son and even prouder to be your best “student.”
Love,
Your 10 pound, 10 ounce baby boy Andy