Life Shorts with Donna: An Easter Memory—What I Learned From My Champion

Hi Friends,

It’s time for my monthly Life Shorts with Donna where I share a short life experience with you. An experience that I hope touches you and inspires you to look at your own life shorts and be inspired by what you’ve learned and the memories you hold dear.

Today, I’m sharing An Easter Memory—What I Learned From My Champion

Do you have that one person in your life who is your greatest champion? I certainly hope so.
 
For me it was my mom. I said goodbye to her fifteen years ago on an Easter Sunday. It was a beautiful spring day. The sun was streaming in and the flowers were all abloom.
 
 But she lay there unaware of the beauty around her. Dying from cancer. Malignant melanoma. Something that struck her and slunk off but came back. As cancer does.

Cancer. A curse that steals. A gift of time. Bittersweet in its taking and giving. To watch the vibrant, passionate force of my mom that once blazed a path with sunshine and laughter, fade away. To care for a failing loved one in ways you never thought you could. And to do it with love. Carrying them on their journey. As they once carried you.

To let go of the barriers that rose high between you and your loved one. It no longer mattered. Resentments and anger stripped away. Peace, acceptance, and grace left behind. Blessed to have shared in this wondrous life’s exploration.

To watch them suffer. To pray for them to go. And in their suffering, you’re eased into saying goodbye as you leave them behind.

To listen as a heartbeat grows slower. To touch a hand that can no longer grasp. To close your eyes and listen to breaths grow fainter, like slow waves rolling to shore. A shore you cannot see. Moving towards another place. Closer to heaven.

Cancer. A thief unseen. It gives and takes. And its everlasting gift is the longest goodbye. And then it takes for the last time.

And in that final taking when my mom left, I was able to speak my last words. “Mom, you loved me unconditionally. You gave me strength and security. And then you did the hardest thing of all; you let me go and set me free. Every day I try to be a mother like the mom you were to me.”

That Easter Sunday was my last moment with her. Cancer took her the next day.

But since her death I realize I carry her with me and much of my success can be attributed to her. In my grief I finally got down to accomplishing my dream. Writing my first book. And since then wrote many books.

But it was my Mom’s many “Mom-isms” drilled into me growing up that gave me that foundation to make my dream come true today.  And I know she would be as proud of me now and I realize I must be proud of myself for her.

She taught me many things growing up that I carry on.

Here are things—the “mom-ims”—that my mom taught me. They translated across many of my life paths as I grew older, one of them especially was my path as a writer. These words of wisdom can translate into any role you want to strive in:

The early bird catches the worm … MEANS set the alarm early and get up and write.
 
 Always make your bed first thing … MEANS don’t procrastinate, get to it!
 
 Never go out of the house with wrinkled clothes … MEANS shower and dress like you are going to a real job, Miss Writer.
 
 Polish your shoes … MEANS you can never edit enough, it makes your work “shine”.
 
 Stand up straight … MEANS be confident about your project when you talk about it.
 
 Place your napkin on your lap … MEANS keep an organized desk.
 
 Clean your plate … MEANS don’t give up, eventually you will  finish that scene, that book, that project.
 
 Polish the silver … MEANS make your words pretty. Get rid of those clichés and make it your own voice.
 
 Haste makes waste … MEANS don’t rush through your masterpiece. Some parts take longer and more work.
 
 Mind over matter … MEANS  I CAN do this. Me. Yes, I can!
 
 Complaining is a waste of time … MEANS if this writing thing wasn’t hard everyone would be doing it. Now get back to work.
 
 Time to move on … MEANS something not working? Move on to another project for a while.
 
 You are #1 … MEANS Be kind to yourself first before others. Don’t be so hard on yourself but don’t give up. Be your own champion.
 
 Eat your veggies … MEANS get out that grammar book and make those words ‘right’. It’s not fun but necessary.
 
 And yes, you must vacuum under the bed … MEANS at some point you’ll have to clean out the dirt and weeds in revision to improve your story.

And my favorite saying was the one she would call out early in the morning, even on weekends, “Up and at em’!” For years as a kid I would groan and wonder “Just WHO is this Adam?” But it became my standard greeting for her later in life as I knew I had to call her early in the morning before she was “out and about” for the day.

Are you up and at em’ today doing what you love with the people you love?

My mom also taught me that we learn from the hard things. She encouraged me to take a job out of state once I graduated college so I could experience life, even though she would miss me. 

She said, “If you stay here you’ll always have the same friends and do the same things. I don’t want you to go but you must go.” 

It’s how I felt the same way years later when my son graduated high school and moved to Hawaii for two years. He needed to experience something bigger than what he’d always known. And I helped him do it even though I was heartbroken to move him 5,000 miles away. And to a place I’d also moved to at the same age as him. Although for me it had been the Navy -- for him, it was his free spirit.

If my mom were still here, we would have traded stories about how each of our only children moved to Hawaii in youth—and how it affected us as mothers. I find comfort in that. 

I moved several times when I was young, wanting the next experience and the next. And my mom was always clipping articles to send me for encouragement after each move. I laminated this one years ago. It has followed every move to a new house. It’s on the fridge now with a handwritten note from her that reads: “In case you missed this one! Love, Mom.”

So you don’t miss it, here it is, if you need encouragement this spring time:

AFTER AWHILE by Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a while you learn the subtle difference
 Between holding a hand and chaining a soul
 And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning
 And company doesn’t mean security.
 And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts
 And presents aren’t promises
 And you begin to accept your defeats
 With your head up and your eyes open
 With the grace of a woman, Not the grief of a child
 And you learn to build all your roads on today,
 Because tomorrow’s ground is too uncertain for plans
 and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.
 After awhile you learn that even sunshine
 Burns if you get too much
 So you plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
 Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers
 And you learn that you really can endure…
 That you really are strong
 And you really do have worth,
 and you learn and learn…
 With every good bye you learn.

I feel like these words are what my Mom would tell me today when I feel sad about missing her… “With every goodbye you learn.”

 Now go – plant your own garden and decorate it with your own soul.