A Mother’s Love
By Eddy Russini
After surviving a quadruple by-pass operation, my mother was released from the hospital. For unknown reasons, I decided to stay over one night soon after. She was still sleeping in the living on a hospital bed, I slept on the couch. I was awakened by the silence of her breathing. I started to perform CPR and when my father came down from their bedroom to take over, I called 411. When the information lady got on the phone, I realized it was 911 that I was suppose to call. She was very helpful and connected me with the right number. My dad, drained from the moment, stepped outside to wait for the ambulance. I continued the CPR. I begged my mother not to leave me.
I found it spiritually poetic that I was able to give life back to the woman who gave me life.
My mother laid in a coma for thirty days. Each day complications grew and the nurses and doctors admired her strength, but couldn’t understand it. I could. I knew her. She was fighting for me. The woman who gave me life wouldn’t leave unless I gave her permission.
Her doctor heard me begging her not to leave me. He took me aside and explained how she’d never be the same. Her age and diabetes, along with the fact that she was denied air for so long could effect her brain. Basically, he was telling me that she would be better off dead. I asked the doctor, "How important is life if someone is better off dead?" He answered, "It’s not how long you live life that’s important, it’s what you do with your life that counts."
I thought, "Oh, great. My mothers doctor quotes fortune cookies."
I returned to my mother’s side and held her hand. The warmth of her hand was enough to comfort me. It was just a warm hand, but it was enough. It’s funny how the silliest memories find you when you least expect it. That night at the hospital I remember thinking how she gave the best advice while she would knit. I remembered complaining to her about how I hated bartending and wanted to concentrate on my writing. Without missing a stitch, she replied, "I didn’t go through 19 hours of labor for you to be miserable. Do what makes you happy and I’ll always be there for you." She would always be there for me. It was that memory that made me realize I had to let go of her warm hand. I prayed that I would always remember the warmth of her hand. I wanted to just bottle that moment and always have it with me. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Let the angels guide you." I left for work and she left with the angels.
She didn’t leave me, she listened to me.
When the reality that my mother followed the angels found me, my mind went blank. I didn’t tell anyone because I thought if I didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be real. I didn’t want to go to the wake. I just wanted to hide, my sisters found me and convinced me that I had to go. When I got there I swore everyone was staring at me. I didn't want this, I just wanted my mother.I begged my mother to be with me.
All of a sudden this bingo buddy of my mother’s grabs me and says in a gravelly voice, "Your mother loved you. All she spoke about was her handsome son. She suffered a lot and she’s not suffering anymore." As I turned to this lady, I noticed she has a tattoo on her shoulder. "Born To Play Bingo." But, she’s in her 80’s so when she puts her arm down it says, "orn ay go." I start to laugh and I can’t stop laughing and everyone thinks I’m crying. The tattoo lady grabs me and says, "Let it out sweetie, it’s ok."
I’m trying to say, "I’m laughing at your tattoo.", but all that comes out is "tattoo, tattoo." and I am bending over laughing.The lady with the tattoo thinks I am in pain and runs out of the funeral room screaming, "Jesus Christ! he's having a heart attack!" When I calm down I step outside for air and see her smoking and over hear her saying, "Who the hell is tattoo?" A moment sent by my mother.
They say a mother’s love is the connection between heaven and earth and I believe that is true because where I used to say, "Oh, God help me," I now say, "Oh, Mom help me," and she does.
