My siblings, Jeff, Mara, Vanessa, and I, were very touched by all the people who attended.  From our bosses and co-workers, to old friends who remembered my mom when we had all been children.  Two of our friends are members of a choir, and they organized some members to sing.  They sang one of my mom’s favorite songs, Somewhere Over the Rainbow. 

 My cousins, Mary and Emily, along with their dad, Mike, read some quotes, and thoughts.  My aunt, Laura, and friend, Christina, read two touching letters from two of my mom’s friends in Minnesota.  My siblings and I all spoke briefly about my mom, and we found out that was harder and more emotional than we thought it would be.  I gained a new perspective though on my mom from hearing what my brother and sisters, and others remembered about her.   

The choir sang another song while my mom’s three grandchildren, Ryan, Cole, and Maelin, each put a rose on John’s gravestone to symbolize their grandmother’s wish, and also how she will live on in them.   

After everyone had left the service, my siblings and I, watched as the interment took place.  It was simple, and it was final.  

We held a reception afterwards at Laura’s house, and it was so nice to see more friends who couldn’t attend the service.  They laughed, cried, listened, and shared memories with us.  I know I speak for my family, in thanking everyone who has supported us through the loss of our mother.  We appreciate all the condolences, prayers, cards, flowers, plants, notes, and well-wishes. It has made a very difficult time a bit easier. 

I have never lost any one so close to me before.  Like most people, I’ve had some hard situations in life, but those seem to cease in comparison to this.  My favorite time of the day now is the first three seconds I wake up in the morning.  Because I don’t remember for those few seconds she is gone.  

During the time I had with her in Minnesota,  I felt like I was forgetting to tell or ask her something.  I couldn’t shake that feeling, and yesterday I realized what it was that I never got to ask her: my mom lost her mom when she was 16.  I keep finding myself wanting to call my mom and ask her advice- how do you get through this? How do you move on after your mother dies?

For the first time ever in my life, I am going to have to figure this one out without her.  

Below is what I spoke at my mother’s service: 

Thinking about my mom, it is hard to narrow down her life, but I remember her always telling me, “you will never know how much I love you, until you have your own children.”  When I was a little girl and heard this, I didn’t understand.  When I was a teenager and she told me this, I rolled my eyes and said sarcastically, “whatever moth-errr”  When I was in my 20’s, and heard this, I thought it was sweet, and when I was in my 30’s and had my own children, I finally understood the magnitude of this simple sentence I had been told my entire life.  I also realized how true her statement was. 

My mom told me about ten years ago, she had regrets in her life, and wished she could have done some things differently.  But she said in her clear, strong, voice that having us- her children- was the only completely perfect thing she had ever done.  She told me we were the best things to ever happen to her.  Then she added, “you’ll never know how much I love you, until you have your own children.” 

During our last days together, I thought about all the times she stayed up with me when I was sick, or was there when I needed to talk, and all the other millions of things a mother does over a lifetime.  I remember she helped me get my first job- at McDonald’s- I was too shy to call the manager back to check on my application, maybe I knew something she didn’t, but she called for me and I got the job.  She was the first person I called after my sons were born, and the one person I could call at 3AM when I had a screaming, sleepless baby up, for advice.  I’ve watched her incredible strength, and determination and her mistakes and downfalls.   My mother taught me how to live, and how not to live. She wasn’t just my mother- she was my friend too. 

I was able to be with my mother in her final days, hours, and moments, and it was a gift.  My mom was there when I took my first breath, and I was there holding her hand, when she took her last one.  Her life is complete and the circle ends where it began- with us, her children. 

I told my mom in our last conversation, she had been right about her statement, she smiled and she also added “I will love you forever.”  

I believe she will and I have started to tell my own children, Ryan and Cole, “you will never know how much I love you, until you have your own children.”  They look at me and smile now when I say this.  They will roll their eyes at me in a few short years when I tell them this.  They don’t understand now, but one day they will.  That will be the legacy of my mother that lives on in her children and grandchildren.  Love. 

My mom and I- 1998

Ryan brushes his teeth on his own, and then when he’s done I do a follow-up.  I am usually in the bathroom with him when he starts, but tonight I was helping Cole in the other room.  When I got into the bathroom, Ryan was finishing his teeth and I took his toothbrush, like I always do.  He stopped me so he could spit out the toothpaste he had in his mouth.  As soon as I started brushing, I saw the blood and stopped.  I told him his tooth had fallen out!

Cole immediately started to cry- he seems to have a thing about teeth and the Tooth Fairy, but that’s another story.  I asked Ryan if the tooth was in his mouth.  He put his hand in his mouth and then saw the blood on his hand and started to cry too.  I have been telling him for weeks when he loses his tooth, it will bleed for a little bit.  Evidently, that prepping didn’t help.  I gave him a washcloth, and tried to calm him down.  I asked him if the tooth was in his mouth, and he said no.  He was scared we couldn’t find his tooth.

I felt so sorry for him.  He said a first grader had told him just today that his sister swallowed her tooth and she died.  So I reassured him no less than twenty times, that swallowing a tooth will not cause you to die.  It finally dawned on me that he probably had spit it out with his toothpaste, right before I started brushing his teeth, because he never swallows toothpaste. 

If I were handy with a wrench, I would try to take the sink apart to see if I could find it.  It is his first baby tooth after all.  But considering I’ve never done that before, this probably isn’t the best time to try to figure out a project like that.  

So we will not have his first baby tooth to give to the Tooth Fairy tonight.  Ryan arranged his pillows special, so she won’t have any trouble leaving him some money.  On a side note, I have been trying to decide what the going rate is for the Tooth Fairy is these days.  Ryan seems happy when he gets a quarter, but also knows paper money is worth more, so I think he will be very happy with $2 for his first tooth.  I plan to tell him subsequent teeth only bring in $1. 

Here is Ryan with his brand new smile:

Needless to say, this is a very difficult time and the range of emotions are many.  Losing my mother has been devastating, but there have been many positive experiences during the last week, and such an outpouring of love for my mom.  It has been a great comfort to our family.

As we leave the city my mom lived and return home this weekend, our lives have changed.   The person who has always been there for us- is gone.  We have to find that place where we can move on with our lives, not consumed by grief, but with the happiness and love she has always given to us.  

On Thursday morning my siblings and I all woke up at the exact same time in our hotel room because the sun was streaming in the room and was reflecting off a mirror.  The light was very bright and intense.  It was shinning in our faces, and it was odd how bright the room was.  My brother closed the curtain, and I looked at the clock. It was the exact time my mom passed away, 24 hours earlier.  I think she was telling us she was okay, and we are going to be okay too. 

My friend told me that my mom will always be with me- I will just have to look for her.  Maybe that’s part of how you get through something like this and live with the loss every day.  Maybe our loved ones are never really gone, but the way they express their love, and their presence in our lives changes. 

Three days later, I’m sitting next to my mom in her hospital room while she sleeps, writing this.  My mom is dying and is not going to recover. The only option available would extend her life by a maximum of 3 months, and she would be in the hospital, connected to machines. Yesterday my Aunt Laura (who is a nurse), Mara, my mom and myself talked.  My mom knows her condition but how do you just decide you are done?  How do you tell your children that you want to die?  Laura says it is very rare when someone can make that decision-fully conscious and aware like my mom is- she said it is normally just too difficult. 

Laura and my mom have been friends (not just sister-in-laws) for over 30 years.  Laura said the words that we could not- she spoke aloud what needed to be said, but we couldn’t say, “…you aren’t going to get better, and you are going to die.” 

After that Mara and I talked to my mom.  She was considering the alternative option that would give her a few more weeks, but would only be delaying the inevitable.  I don’t think anything has ever been as hard, as the conversation that followed that Mara and I had with my mom.

A bit later her doctor returned to tell her he could set up the treatment, and my mom, in a strong voice told him no.  She told him in the days she had left, she didn’t want to be on machines, with tubes in her body.  She wanted to be comfortable and pain free, surrounded by her family.  Her doctor agreed this was the best option, and she had made a wise decision. 

This afternoon my mom’s wishes will be carried out, and she is moving to a highly recommended hospice. We will be with her in the hospice.  They will allow us to bring her two cats in to visit my mom.  They will cook anything she likes, and she will be pain free, and comfortable.

The last few days have been mainly a blur.  I am so emotionally and mentally drained- I’m just in hospital mode.  My sister and I feel like we have been here for months- not days.  We knew “one day” this would happen, but I don’t think you can ever be prepared for this. 

All of my mom’s friends, and co-workers have been by to see her, and they are amazing.  They have told us how much they adore my mom, and what a wonderful and loving person she is.  They have brought my family much comfort and their kindness has touched us all. 

Our family and friends have been so wonderful as well- they step in when we can’t.  I honestly don’t know what we would have done if Laura hadn’t come.  We didn’t ask her- she just booked a ticket and came.   My sister-in-law, Kat, is taking care of us.  She makes sure we eat, she drives us where we need to go (directions are not Mara and I’s strong point), and she makes my mom laugh.  Our friends back home have sent fruit baskets, flowers, directions when we are lost, advice, and support.  One friend is coming in tonight to help Mara and I in these final days, when Laura has to go home.  My mom’s hospital roommate has bonded with our family, and she has said our mom is her hero.  Old friends of my mom that we haven’t heard from in years are calling and offering their support.  My mom has commented so many times in the last few days that she never knew so many people cared about her.  We are all so grateful for all of the love, support, and help all our family and friends have shown our family.

My mom has a few days left to live, and this time with her is precious and a gift.  We have had many good moments and conversations already.  She has talked to her grandchildren on the phone, and has been able to hear their voices one last time. 

We only get one chance to do this.  While the emotions are extremely difficult, I feel it will be a true blessing to be with my mom when the time comes for her to pass away.  I am very grateful I get this final block of time to love my mom, and say good-bye.

 On Thursday during my training run, I ran the distance just under 29 minutes.  This was the fastest pre-race time I have had, and felt pretty confident I could run faster than that on Sunday, and get my personal best.  Later I saw the weather report for Sunday.  It called for snow and temperatures in the 20’s.  Running in the colder weather doesn’t bother me too much. I dress in layers, and usually end up shedding some of them.  But the snow gets packed down, and turns to ice.  It makes it harder to run as fast.  

I also tried to figure out a definite plan on how fast I needed to run to hit my target time. When I ran my best time, I started out at a faster pace and was able to maintain it.  But since I have been running longer distances, I have noticed if I start out slower, I get an incredible surge of energy after about 2.5 miles. After the last race, I did not want to be so tired at the end!  I was debating between a negative split, and running a steady, faster pace.  My friend gave me a good idea to break out the times on how fast I needed to run each mile to reach my target time.  I liked that, because it gave me a definite goal to hit for each mile. 

On Sunday morning it was snowing and cold.  When I got to the race, it was still snowing, and it was 18 degrees out!  The path was shoveled, but there was a lot of ice pack, because the park is a really popular park for running.  This race was a bit different for me too, because no one came with me.  My dad had a cold, and I didn’t have the heart to ask anyone else to get out of bed on a cold, snowy, Sunday, Valentine’s Day morning to come stand in snowy, 18 degree weather!

Since I didn’t have my trusty equipment manager to hold all my stuff, I jogged back to my car to put my registration stuff away, and by the time I got back to the start line, it was time to line up.  I hadn’t stretched, and since the race had a timer chip, I figured I would stay back for a few minutes and finish warming up.  The previous races with timing chips start when you cross the start line. There were probably about 25 other people who had the same idea as I.    

It was nice to start after the majority of the runners had gone. I hit the ”start” on the timer on my watch as soon as I crossed the start line.  It was much less cramped.  I was shooting for a 10 minute mile for the first mile and a few minutes into it, I knew it was going to be hard to get my time. The course was really icy. When my feet landed, they slipped.  I had forgotten to bring my YakTraxs, which are awesome on the ice. 

The end of the first mile wasn’t marked, so I wasn’t exactly sure when I finished the first mile.  I was passing a lot of people, and I was enjoying running. I felt like I was running pretty well, despite the ice. There were patches where it was just wet pavement, so I tried to maneuver to these as much as I could.  

I saw the sign marking the end of two miles and my watch said 19 minutes.  I didn’t bother looking at the seconds, but I was happy with the pacing.  I focused on my breathing and trying to keep an even pace, so I wouldn’t tire out too much at the end.  It was getting a bit more difficult to get deeper breaths though because of the cold.  I kept passing people, and since I started after everyone else, there wasn’t anyone that was passing me.  That was kind of a neat psychological edge.  

I saw the marker for mile 3, and my time was just under 25 minutes.  I figured I was in good shape- I had just run a 5 minute mile!  I had never run a mile that fast.  But the end of the course was a hill- not a steep one, and I was doing okay, but I was getting tired. I wasn’t able to get any deep breaths, so my breathing was very shallow.  I was trying to pass someone a few steps ahead of me, and saw the finish line in sight.  If I gave it my all to pass, I probably wasn’t going to have enough left to finish.  So I didn’t sprint to the finish.  I held my pace, and made it to the finish line!

I wasn’t as tired as I was at the end of the last race, and felt much better. I stood for several seconds and breathed.  I went over the volunteer to have her remove the timing chip off my shoe, and remembered I hadn’t checked my watch!  I looked at it and it said 28:48.  I had waited about 30 seconds before I stopped it, but wasn’t worried about it, since the timing chip kept track of that.  I figured my time would be just over 28 minutes.  While that wasn’t my personal best, I felt great considering the weather and the course conditions.  I wanted to also finish in the top 15% for my age group, and I had a good feeling I did. 

Later in the afternoon the results were posted online and I was shocked to see my “official” time was 31:18!  I thought it was a mistake.  I hadn’t cleared the time from my watch and looked at it again, and it showed 28:48.  I e-mailed the time keeper for the race and asked him how I could have an almost 3 minute discrepancy.  The official results placed me 13th in my age group out of 58 runners and 149th out of 311. 

I was not happy with that at all!  The only race I ran slower than that was my very first race.  Even when I struggled at the last race, my time was 31:00 and I know I didn’t struggle as much during this race. I haven’t run a 5K distance over 30 minutes in over a month.  I just knew the results weren’t right, and it was frustrating!  I talked to my friend and also posted what happened on my Daily Mile account, and it made me feel a bit better to hear that sometimes the results get messed up.  But I was disappointed.

I thought about it clearly, and realized I didn’t need an “official” result to tell me how I ran.  I knew from the way I felt (and my watch), that I really ran the race in the 28 minute range- not in the 31 minute range.  While I won’t have an “official” result, it doesn’t discount my running.  Even with the weather and the ice, this was the second best time I’ve ever had.  It felt great to achieve that. 

Shortly after this, the time keeper e-mailed me back, and said the chips didn’t record individual start times- they all turned on at the same time.  He even asked if I started later than the main crowd.  Since I did, that explained the discrepancy.  I figured I started about 3 minutes after everyone else, so that would have put my time right about at 28:18- just about what I thought it would be at when I finished, and what my watch showed. 

I’m glad I got resolution on why the time was off, and it was a good lesson for me to learn.  You can’t always rely on what a clock or a timer chip says you have done.  They are devices, and even I didn’t stop my watch the exact moment I was done.  But I still knew I didn’t run a 31 minute race.  When I looked at how the 28:18 time lined up, it would have “officially” put me in 7th place for my age group, and 87th overall.  It also put me in the 12% for my age group, so I met that goal! 

I’ve joked that I have “graduated” to the next level- the 7K race, which I will be running in next month, but I’m not done with 5K’s. I am going to run in a fifth 5K and try to “officially” beat my personal best. 

After this timing fiasco, and always trying to “guesstimate” my distances, I have a very cool announcement to make soon, which will be perfect timing.  :-)