Originally Posted by mawcarol
My momma never sewed much. She worked in the cotton mill and then later in other textile plants. What I am getting around to is she was legally blind by her 50's The day after her momma died I took her to get her results from a breast biopsy. She hab to have a masectomy(I am terrible speller sorry). She was put on tomoxpin and had to take it for 5 years. At the end of that she was so happy until she started passing blood.The med to keep the cancer from coming back caused uterin cancer which was a very agressive type(Doctoe compaired it to cervical cancer and said the med caused it. She lived about 6 month after we found out and had chemo and redation.
She is my hero. and I miss her so much it will be 2 years this November since she went to be with Jesus. She was a strong woman I only hope to be half as strong as she was.
I hope I haven't brought everyone down but I want to say Hug your momma and tell her how much she means to you.
Mawcarol,
This didn't bring me down...it did make me think more of my own Mom, who passed away this summer. She was my hero, too. My daughter claims her as a role model - a person who never let adversity overcome her, who always found a way to get things done and who loved and helped her family in any way she could.
She lived with me for the last 6 months of her life. That's when I started quilting. She was angry with me because I had 'rules' about bedtime (she had dementia and wasn't supposed to be left alone.) She didn't like that we installed a gate at the top of the stairs. She didn't like taking "orders" from her kids! One day, after one of her bouts of anger, I sat down with her and asked her did she remember the time when I was a little kid and after a punishment, I told her "Just you wait until I'm the grown up and YOU'RE the little kid!"?
She chuckled, and admitted she did. Then I said to her as gently as I could,
"Well, Mom, I'm the grown up and you're the little kid."
I expected another bout of anger, but she just looked at me for a few seconds. Then she said, "I guess you're right."
After that, she had a lot fewer temper tantrums. I know the temper was the dementia, and I know she knew it, too. That was the saddest thing.
I treasure those last few months with her - they were difficult, but they were a gift.
Thanks for sharing the life of your wonderful mother with us all. I'm sure I'm not the only one who is touched by it!