A Bitter-sweet Thanksgiving Memory

As Thanksgiving approaches, I reflect on family memories. There is a particular Thanksgiving that stands out. The year my mother died. That was a Thanksgiving I will never forget...the last precious moments and holiday I ever spent with my mother.


It was the year 2000; my mother had already had a brush with death, or should I say, she had already spent a moment with God, the year before.

Christmas of 1999, while others were enjoying the afterglow of Christmas, my Dad, brother and I were spending Christmas night in a hospital emergency room. Mom had been sick, but we didn't realize how sick until she passed out at the end of Christmas day. Mom had had a heart attack and the paramedics were able to revive her. She was diagnosed with pneumonia and was sent to another hospital because the one she had been taken to was on drive by.

New Year's Eve, 2000; while everyone else was worrying over Y2K and whether computers would crash worldwide and all systems would go down, I sat in an ICU unit visiting my mom, who was on a ventilator. Computers didn't crash that night and neither did my mother. Days later she was moved to a regular room, but Mom was never the same after that. She was still Mom, but there was just something that was off. None of us could ever put our finger on it, other than she was no longer as negative as she had always been, but that is not what struck me most. What bothered me was the anger she would have, at times, towards us for not letting her go. She often told us she had been happy, but then we brought her back and she never wanted to be brought back. That gave me the first clue that Mom had spent a short time with God in Heaven. She never talked about it, more than just to say she had been happy.

The next 10 months, I spent every night, 2 to 3 hours at a time, talking with Mom on the phone. I began to take it for granted that Mom was going to be alright and that she would be there for years to come, yet I still called her every night, to talk with her for hours; something I have never regretted.

Thanksgiving seemed like just another holiday with the whole family in attendance. Rob, Robin, and their children had come to stay with Mom and Dad. We had decided that Thanksgiving dinner would be at our house. They came over and Robin and I spent the morning in my kitchen with Mom sitting and visiting. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, except it was unusual for my mother to not cook Thanksgiving Dinner. She talked and laughed with us. Later, we all gathered around our dining room table and kitchen table to give thanks for another year, especially one with Mom and Dad.

In the afterglow of a sumptuous meal, Robin and I decided that we would make a shopping run to Garden Ridge for their after Thanksgiving Dinner shopping spree. We asked Mom if she would like to go. She always loved shopping and told us she would. We entered the store, with Mom pushing the cart, so she would have some support. We walked just a short few steps into the store, when she told us she didn't think she could walk the entire store. We headed to the back of the store, where we found some tapestries. Mom began looking at the different pictures until she found one with Angels cascading down a bough of garland. Her remark startled us, "They look just like the Angels I saw." She told us she was going to buy that particular tapestry. Robin and I just looked at each other, not knowing what to think.

A week later, I was on the phone with Dad, explaining that I had strep throat and wouldn't be able to come over for a couple of days. Dad told me that Mom had fallen and he had helped her get into bed. He then told me he had tried to wake her up, but she wouldn't wake up. I told Dad to call 911. I called my brother and told him what had happened. I then found a mask and drove to the hospital. Mom was on life support. Dad looked stunned. The next morning, I made the heartbreaking trip back to the hospital, after Rob had called and told me that Mom had no brain waves. We all stood around her bed and said our loving goodbyes as the doctors turned off the life support machine.

Weeks later, I had a dream that Mom and I were talking. I asked her if she wanted to go shopping, but she told me she couldn’t. She smiled at me and then was gone.

That was 10 years ago this year. That memory is such a precious bitter-sweet memory. The tapestry hangs in my family room, reminding me every day of a very special Thanksgiving and a mother whom had spent time with Angels the Christmas before.