A Mother’s Legacy

My mother died eleven years ago today.  She suffered with Alzheimer’s the last sixteen years of her life.   It first showed up as short-term memory loss.  Then it became evident in her speech.  At one point, she simply began to repeat what was said to her.  Later, she stopped talking altogether.  One day she fell and never got up again; she stopped walking.  The last two years of her life were spent in a bed in a nursing home where her physical needs could properly be met.

We certainly grieved her loss when she died, but we grieved her loss for a long time before that.  Mom was no longer an active part of our lives even as she continued to live.  I know many people have been through this with loved ones, but it is a very strange and hard thing to have someone physically present who is not really present, not engaged in the daily activities going on around her.  We missed her long before she died.

We can cry “unfair!” when things like Alzheimer’s occur, but it is not really unfair.  Alzheimer’s is part of our world, a broken and fallen world where diseases were never meant to occur.  What seems especially unfair is that my mother was a loving and faithful woman.  She exercised a strong faith in her Savior and lived it every day.  She loved my brother and me fiercely.  She served God faithfully. Why remove such a woman from such a life, yet allow her physical shell to linger?

Yet her legacy lives on.  My mother was a crafter.  She was always sewing, knitting, crocheting, etc.  We have afghans and blankets and coasters and needlepoint pictures and countless other things she made over the years.  She left us with boxes of fabric and supplies, including a small bag containing crocheted squares intended for another blanket.  Our daughter Megan is a crafter, too.  We have passed along to her several things of my mother’s including the crocheted squares.  Megan used those squares to create a small blanket.

The picture is of my mother’s great-granddaughter, Madeline, Megan’s daughter, who was born exactly three weeks ago.  The blanket laid over her is a joint effort between my mother and my daughter that took twenty-plus years to create.  I cannot look at this picture without tearing up.  It is a precious reminder of love that Megan has already promised will be passed along to her sisters when they have children.

But a blanket is not the only legacy my mother left.  We recently re-joined the church of our youth and I have heard countless stories about my mother and father and how loved they were.  She lives on in the memories of those who knew and appreciated her, and I am grateful for their memories and the stories they share.  She lives on in my brother’s heart (he is a special needs guy who is very special) who speaks of her frequently and tells me he will be with her again.  She lives on in my wife, Michele, who sat under my mother’s teaching as a teenager in Sunday School.  It was wonderful to watch them grow closer together through life. She lives on in my daughters who have various memories of her depending on their ages when the Alzheimer’s truly took effect.  I appreciate that they were raised living with our extended family including my grandmother, my Alzheimer’s mother and my special needs brother.  They have learned that love comes in many different shapes and dimensions.

My mother lives on in me.  I never doubted her love nor her faith.  She instilled values in me that have formed who I am, and I can still hear her voice in my head and heart.  Michele says she sounded like Dinah Shore for those of you who remember her.  Sometimes it is that Dinah Shore voice I hear and sometimes it is the “JONATHAN ANDREW KENDRICK” voice, but even the discipline was administered from a wellspring of love.

My mother gave me a bookmark before Alzheimer’s set in; it is almost as if she knew it was coming.  On the front is a drawing of Winnie the Pooh and Christopher Robin with a quotation from Christopher: “Promise me you’ll never forget me.  Ever.  Even when I’m a hundred.”  On the back, my mother wrote, “Jon, even if I grow old and forget everything, I will never forget you and always love you in my heart.”

I Iove you, Mom.  I look forward to our reunion.