Moms are special. When I was in third grade, I can remember her sitting down with me to help me memorize a part for a play the next day. She taught independence and self reliance. She took me to see Louis Armstrong. Sex could not be discussed and most of the time she was somewhat cold. I remember coming home from college, reaching to hug or kiss her with her stepping back saying she had a cold or cold sore. This happened too many times to count. She was active and ate healthy foods.
In the summer of 1987 she became dizzy. A CT scan showed a tumor by her pineal gland. She had hydrocephalus and would need a shunt. A decision was made to give radiation therapy. Surgery to remove the lesion was risky and not always successful. I had never seen her so emotional. She said she was scared; we all were. The family came together. We had a couple of days to go over the options and connect before they put the shunt in Thursday.
A good connection was made. All of us, my Dad, brother and sister had time alone with her Wednesday. I gave her this card:
21 July 87
Dear Mother,
I care for you and love you. When
people get sick, we know we haven't said
it enough. We will talk to a lot of
specialists, find out what options are available
and get them done.
I feel that everything will get
done right and you will [be] back to normal
soon.
Thank you for all the time, caring,
instruction and love in my life. You have
nurtured goodness in me. I share this with
others, and it adds to the happiness in my life.
Please tell us your needs and desires,
we will try to get what you want, explain
things that are confusing and give you warmth
and affection. Love,
Billy
There was a closeness that I had never been conscious of before. We hugged and cried together.
The shunt was successfully put in. At first we thought there were no complications and then it became apparent that she had amnesia going back for about three weeks. We had to tell her about her dizziness, tests, tumor and treatment.
On my way home the next day I stopped at the Chinese theater in Hollywood and saw Robocop. A severely injured cop is put in a machine. They try to erase his memory, but he is haunted by pictures of the family he once had. His memory comes back and he realizes their life must go on without him. I was deeply touched as there was a tender story separate from the violence. My mom's memory never came back though. About two months after the shunt had been placed and after radiation that caused her hair to fall out, she showed me a card. There were colorful boats in front of an island. "Grove Boats" by Eileen Seitz has white clouds filling the sky. It was the one I had given her on my day of resolution with her. She said that she had found it the other day. It was quite nice, but she said she didn't remember receiving it.