“Bella…..Bella”

I’ve been thinking and dreaming of my mom quite a bit lately. I’m not sure why. She left us in May of 2006 after a life-altering battle with Alzheimer’s.

I have so many memories of her, the good, the bad and the ugly. I would have to say though; the good certainly outweigh the bad. She was there at the first moment of my life and I was there at the last moment of hers. It was a most precious moment both of heart wrenching sadness and relief. Heart wrenching in that it is always sad to lose a mother, the first relationship of your life. Relief that she would not have to live a life of not knowing who she was most of the time or knowing who we were when we saw her. She knows it all now.

My mother was a contrast of personalities. Her family was always dear to her and she would do what she could for them. As her dementia and the Alzheimer’s took over, bitterness, fear and paranoia were the daily agenda items, common and expected side effects of this disease. At the onset, some of us, including me, lived in denial and refused to cope with the realities that were evident to others. I think that stemmed from having the most one on one time with mom. I spent more time alone with mom than any of my brothers or sisters. We lived together by ourselves for quite a while and we travelled many, many times, just her and I. These are just a sampling of the journeys that I will remember….

We set sail on a Windjammer Cruise after touring the rainforests of Grenada where she immediately developed a crush on our 24 year old Captain, the youngest Captain in the fleet. During the entire cruise she would just light up each time Captain Guyan would appear. I saw the young girlish side of the woman she must have been in her youth. Sad to say, but that young Captain was lost at sea during a hurricane two years later.

During a trip to Washington D.C. after walking what seemed to be miles, and probably was, we arrived at the foot of the Lincoln Memorial. She looked up at those stairs and said “nice statute, I’m done, call a cab, let’s eat”. She could be very funny.

I don’t even remember how many trips to California and Nevada we took to see my two brothers, but in Reno, my mother loved the slots. As she got older and walked slower and seemed to complain with each step, you would never have known it the minute we walked into The Peppermill. She could get to the four corners of that casino and I couldn’t keep up with her. I told you she was funny.

When I read my Upper Room each morning, there are times when the stories are ones I know she would have enjoyed. We did that together each morning when we lived in Port St. Lucie. My mother and I prayed together. I don’t know if she did that with any of my other siblings.

And my last memory before seeing her unresponsive in that hospital bed before she died is the one that I cling to. We had gone to Florida for Easter and before we left, I went alone to the nursing home one more time to see her. She talked about my brothers as if they were still in school and how she didn’t know what my brother Bonny would do next. It was time for me to go and I kissed her goodbye. She reached up with her frail hand and rubbed my cheek, smiled and said “Bella….Bella”. I walked to my car and had a good cry.

I know, without a doubt, that I will see her again in heaven one day and that I will be greeted with those same words, “Bella…Bella”, but then I will be saying "hello" and not "goodbye". Rest in peace. I miss you mom.