Losing my birthmother

A personal reminiscence on Mother's Day Weekend November 26, 2001 Its hard to believe sheҒs gone. I still plan my days around trips to the hospital that I wont make. I sit in her apartment with the furniture pushed against the walls to make room for a hospital bed, wheelchair, and other equipment that wonҒt be coming. I shop and add my groceries to her cabinets filled with the low-salt-no-sugar foods that were her staples. My toothbrush is next to hers, alongside the many medications she took. She was my last surviving parent. My birthmother. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ I tried to reach her by phone on September 11th. I imagined her watching the tragic events of that day on television and worrying if all in her circle of loved ones were safe. She was always certain that in Greece, where I lived, I was close to danger, and I thought a call would reassure her. When there was no answer, I thought perhaps she was staying with friends for a few days. I knew she wouldn't be away from home longer than a few days at a time because of Cali, her beloved cat. My sister was also trying to reach her and when neither of us could contact her over the next few days, we got worried. My only thread of contact with Pasadena was someone I'd met on the Internet, but I needed a favor and called her. Would she try to find out if Sally was all right? She dropped everything and went to the apartment complex and learned that Sally had been taken to the hospital by ambulance on September 10th. Why I dropped everything to come I can't say. I didn't know if she would want me here. I didn't know if she would be home by the time I got here. I didn't know if she'd tell me to go away. I didn't even think that we have no legal connection. I just knew I needed to do it. I threw my laptop, books, and a couple of changes of clothes in a suitcase and came. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ I feel like an intruder in the personal corners of her life, and yet to others, it seems like the most natural place in the world for me to be. I was handed the keys to her apartment, collected her mail, paid her bills, talked to doctors, nurses, and care coordinators. I've been a touchstone for her many friends and family - those she held together with her frequent phone calls and notes, letting us/them know what was going on, making sure we/they were doing all right. And I'm making sure her last requests are honored. I'm not sure why I came, but I'm glad I did. She knew my sister and I were here and I hope knowing that, and that we were taking care of things, eased her mind and helped her let go in peace. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ They say you should never make major decisions immediately after the death of a loved one, and I'm taking my time determining my next steps. For the time being, I'm content to walk around this city - her city, care for her cat, and celebrate her life - with my sister - in my heart, thoughts, and memories. It was a privilege to help as much as I could during the last months of the life of the woman who did as much as she could for me during the first months of my life. We have come full circle. In loving memory of my birthmother, Sally. October 26, 1927 - November 18, 2001