for the best cook in heaven
My mom went through this twice in her life. Throughout each ordeal, she showed great strength and resilience. The second time around, the cancer spread to her bones and to her brain. There was nothing left to be done. Her fighting spirit soon turned to acceptance. The last couple months of her days were spent in in-home hospice. When her doctor suggested hospice, her light dimmed a little, enough to be noticeable. Even though going to get chemo wreaked havoc on her body, she had made friends. Fellow moms, grandpas, uncles, sisters and brothers who were going through this with her. They were in her platoon - fighting this war on cancer together.
Hospice seemed over in a blink of an eye. Her wonderful nurse had even mentioned how well she was doing. Two days later, her candle had gone out. I always envy the people who have loved ones that are lucid up until the end. My mom's journey did not end on that road. The cancer in her brain had taken her ability to talk or see. By the end, morphine was in her system 24/7 and I can remember at the beginning of hospice, that she hated how morphine made her feel. She was locked in a pitch-black closet with no way to get out. Her last day, she was very vocal. Was she hurting? Was she upset? Was she scared? Was she seeing family members that had passed on, there to guide her home? I will never know. Only sounds came out and could be mistaken for any and all emotions. Part of me wanted to keep busy. So I fussed with the laundry. washing and folding. Not realizing what would have been best for my mom, and my ultimate guilt, would have been for me to just sit with her; sing to her; tell her everything would be ok. I replay this in my head over and over. The memory of that day. The guilt that comes every time and will never go away. I saw her take her last breath. I ran to get a mirror to prove to my dad, who was sitting next to her, that she had indeed finally passed on. No longer in pain. Though this day replays in my head, I make a concerted effort to remember everything else about her.
She loved cooking and was exceptional at it. She worked as a cook at many fine Houston-area establishments. I remember how soft her hands were. A second-hand benefit to working elbow deep in olive oil and spices. And being asked by her bosses - restaurant owners and management for her to cook for them every time they were in town. She had plenty of practice here while she was alive. Always cooking for a small army even though it was just my mom, dad and me. So I imagine cooking feasts up in heaven now, is a walk in the park for her. Makes me smile imagining her in her element. In the most beautiful kitchen...cooking for the angels, who are sitting around the island laughing and cracking jokes. Making her laugh while she fills their bellies.
One day karma will come for you, cancer. And I hope to be alive to see you gone forever.
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