My Mom Gave With No Strings Attached

Dear Mom,

Mom Early Morning Giggles 

I’ve written to you many times over the years to thank you for your continual support. Your no nonsense approach has kept me afloat more times than I can count. Those times when I thought I’d cave under the pressure—facing surgery or a family problem that I couldn’t handle alone.

I’ll never forget when I called you long distance to say I faced a hysterectomy. Your first quesion, “Do you have insurance?”

“Yes.”

“Do you get paid while you are off work?”

“Yes.”

“Well then?”you said. “What are you worried about—it’s a common surgery.” You listed off the Aunt’s and friends that survived the ordeal. I have used that example with many ladies over the years.

“Why fear? Others have handled this, you will too.”

The awesome reality about your initial phone conversation is that you hung up and said to Dad, “Kathy needs me.” Then you climbed aboard a Greyhound to ride forty-four hours to care for my family and me.

I’m not the only one that received your ‘nursing’ care. When Aunt Theresa died you helped Uncle Larry; You lived with Aunt Elnora and Uncle Tommy when he arrived home from the hospital after a logging accident—and you’ve gone back to help since then.

You’re the daughter that cares for a ninety-eight year old mother. You’re the mother that that took care of both my ailing sisters in this past year. You’re the friend that drives a cancer patient to a doctor. You’re the sister that cares for siblings …and the list goes on.

I’m sure I’ve said thank you in ten thousand different ways over the years, but I don’t think it’s enough.

Your "No Strings Attached" approach to life gave me a foundation to share with others willingly. I remember you sharing a loaf of your hot homemade bread with Mrs. McCoy, the elderly neighbor across the fields south of your home. When our girls visited you in the summer time, you sent them up the gravel road to the egg lady, Mrs. Branch. Most of the time, you shared a plate of food or vegetables from your garden with her when she didn’t feel well.

Of course, there were those second hand store shopping sprees, too. You usually purchased a little bauble for one your friends. “You know the lady that cuts my hair? She collects these blue bottles,” you said. Or, “You know the lady down the way she helped me with the upholstery … “If you were not buying for a friend, it was one of your grandchildren. You never came home without some little treasure to give away.

Even today you still give and give and give.

Thank you, Mom for your common sense approach to life and for unconditionally giving of yourself. None of us can repay you for your generous acts of kindness and help.

I love you Mom, you are a wonderful example for today’s world.

Your oldest daughter,

Kathy

I shared this letter with Mom before Gary was diagnosed with Psuedomyxoma Peritonei (PMP)—a rare cancer with a prognosis of only days to live. Mom flew from Oregon to Omaha to live with us and help me.

When Grandma fell and broke her hip, Mom flew back to Oregon to care for Grandma.

When I was diagnosed with breast cancer Gary took care of me, but when he died suddenly of a heart attack, my 86 year old mother flew from Oregon to Omaha and became my caregiver.

My mother’s caring spirit touched many more than she ever thought possible.