Saying Goodbye

This morning I got the call that I knew would come. The inevitible call. My step-mom Gloria passed away peacefully in her sleep. She had been in the hospital for the last couple weeks. She fought right till the end. It was her way.

I met her under the weirdest circumstances almost fifteen years ago. I had just lost my mother to cancer. I was devestated and not ready. My dad and her connected because her and my mom were friends. Their phone conversations increased and they began to see each other as friends and then more. She had just lost her husband to cancer not too long before my mom passed. They shared grief. My dad had his twilight years that he was owed with my mom taken away from him. He had found stability and comfort in a friend and it developed.

I'm ashamed to say now, but at the time this all happened.... I wasn't ready. Things moved too fast for me. They married quickly and I didn't attend the wedding. I was asked, but I refused. I just couldn't. I was in a spot where I felt it was just too soon for me. But thankfully in time, I got over myself. I got to know her. Gloria and I had some deep, deep, deep conversations over the years. I found that I came to respect her, love her and look forward to talking to her every time she called. She was a woman of honor. She earned your respect. And she was one hell of a great cook.

She had a very hard life. She raised three kids on her own. One of them died in a tragic accident. She battled breast cancer, MS, being overweight, COPD and a slew of other health problems. Early on, she was given a dire diagnosis that she wouldn't live another two years. That two years became another 14. She was a fighter. She never gave up. Never rested. She was always up doing things and taking care of things. She loved it. And she loved my father. She said several times that she loved me as though she gave birth to me. She was there to support me in my toughest times, even most recently. I needed her and her calls to strengthen me. We spent hours on the phone together. Sometimes I hated that I unloaded all my grief onto her. But she was my great ear. She listened and gave great advice. No matter how heavy my load was, she wanted to help me carry it.

In time, I gave her a title. The most honorary title I could give another person in this life. I called her "Mom." Early on, I went out of my way to say "Dad and Gloria." Sometimes I do. But sometimes I slip and I call her mom. I sent her Mother's Day cards, Called her on that day. It was a title I felt she earned. She deserved it and my respect. And I was glad to give it to her. She's told me about some of the things she's had to deal with in her life and I cannot even fathom it. It took a lot to take her down. And even in the end, when the diagnosis was dire and she was given less than a day to live, she spat in death's face and made it even farther than that. Her will never broke. Not even slightly.

I had the privelege of going down last week and saying goodbye to her. It was a hard trip to make for a variety of reasons. But I am glad I went. I got to speak to her briefly. I could barely hear what she was saying to me. I'd make out a word here and there. But really, I didn't need to hear every word. Sometimes, you just know what needs to be said without words. I told her that I'm never gonna make another pot of homemade chicken and dumplings without thinking of her. A few years ago, she gave me her grandma's rolling pin. Thats what I make them with. The receipe she showed me. I am now a master level chef at them. When I make them and I see someone take that first bite of them and realize how awesome they are... its a great feeling. Immediately they want to know they are made. And I am glad to share it. Cause thats what you do with something good in life. You share it. Her dumplings live on. Just like her love of life. She shared it too.

She also showed me how to fry chicken. and bake a pie from scratch. She'd read my books and tell me what she thought of them. Years before I ever broke into anything with my comics she told me something. I remember the conversation well.

"You're gonna make it," She said. She'd tell me that every time I saw her. And I did. In my own way. But I never could have done it without her support and encouragement. In my art, in my life, she's always been there for me. And once again, I am faced with a harsh reality that I cannot pick up the phone and call my mom to talk to her. I've lived through this twice now. Its a shitty feeling. There are rough days ahead, especially for my dad. I feel for him so deeply, having to go through this twice now. I cannot even imagine. But he'll get through it. We all will have to. Cause thats what she woulda done. And she woulda screamed back loudly at the universe. "Come at me with what you got!" A true fighter til the end. Where every other part of her body failed and slowly faded away, the last thing she had was her heart. It never left her. And it will never leave us. And I will gladly carry it with me, always.

RIP Mom. I'll miss you.

____

The fleeting winds of time flying through each day
All the things I should've done but time just slipped away
Remember seize the day
Life goes by in the blink of an eye with so much left to say

These were the best of times, I'll miss these days
Your spirit lit my life each day

--Dream Theater "The Best of Times"