My mother

I never planned to write about this.

I took pictures yesterday and I was going to post them.

But a few minutes ago, life changed. I found out a friend is with her mother now, holding her mother's hand as she dies.

It's reminded me of that time in my life. Ten days before my mother died, my oldest brother called me. He told me Mom had signed up for hospice. We all knew the cancer had spread and things weren't looking good, but signing up for hospice made it all so real. While nothing had changed, everything had changed. We no longer had the luxury of hope that she'd beat the cancer. It was official. Our mother was going to die. Then my brother explained why he called me, my parents had decided they weren't going to tell me that Mom was in the final stages.

I was almost as stunned with that news as I was with the actual fact she was truly dying.

A few minutes later, Dad did call me. He admitted that at first they weren't going to tell me, but in the end, they realized I needed to know. Finally, it was time to talk to Mom. I begged her to let me come back. She was firm. No. I was to stay where I was and continue on with my life. Then she did what she had always done so well, she turned into my mother. "You can't change anything here. But if you come back, you'll change everything there."

And she was right. Had I gone back, it would have set my education back a year. Which would have ended it for me. I would have quit school. She knew it even if I didn't at the time.

That last year was hard. There were times my degree felt like a double edged sword. There were days that the only way I could get up in the morning was to make her death meaningless. Before she died, my education was for me. After she died, the only reason I finished was for her.

She knew what it would cost me to stay in school and not be with her during those last days. I knew what it would cost her for me to not be there.

And no one will ever make me question that again.

There were so many things my mother taught me and gave to me. She taught me how to laugh. She gave me her strength. She taught me the beauty of forgiveness when she asked me to forgive her. She taught me the joy of learning how to trust again when I had no reason to trust. She taught me how to not only love, but to accept love.

She taught me it's okay to not have all the answers, or even most of the answers. She taught me how to pick myself up and go on. She taught me how to hang on like a pit bull it's required and how to let go when it's the best thing to do. She also taught me how to tell the difference.

And together we taught each other that it's more than okay for a parent and adult child to also be close friends.

The only thing left for her to give to me was my financial independance. Which was why Mom and Dad struggled with telling me she was going to die. She knew if she denied me being with her as she died, I'd turn into the pit bull and sink my teeth into finishing school. And just like a pit bull, I wouldn't have any idea why I was doing it, but I'd know that I had to.

Yeah, even on her deathbed Mom could be a little bit manipulative. It was the pit bull in her.

One of these days, I'll have to let go and forgive the person who spent years trying to tarnish her in my eyes. But not yet. Right now it's giving me the strength to do the things I must do to get my life back on track.

In time, my friend will fall back on all the little lessons her mother taught her. She'll get through this. It will be one of the hardest things she's ever had to do, but my friend is strong, courageous and will be fine.

Eventually, she'll realize what I've realized, to do justice to these wonderful women who gave us so much in life, the only way we can repay them is by living the life they gave to us.

So, here I am, on the bicycle of life, peddling past Mom. "Hey. Look at me," I shout at her. Then I toss my hands into the air. "No hands."

She shakes her head at me. "It's about time you trusted yourself and just let go."

Yeah, isn't it?