A Mother's Journey

Thee are absolutely nothing one could do to prepare for what is about to happen. That Thursday was the same as any other day. I was driving over 70 miles on a daily basis to help take care of my mother, who was elderly and bedridden. I was also working nights and trying to keep my son’s home up. I was so busy in those days. I had told Gene, “I am sorry I have not been here more to clean and scrub better.” He replied, “No Ma, you’ve done good.”

I sometimes used to be so amazed that I could “do it all, and with such ease.” I would “pat myself on the shoulder” however; I never “had the pride of life.” I was just satisfied with myself that I could help out, quietly. I would go from one thing to another, without any stress or hurry at all, but I did drink quite a lot of beer to keep my strength up. Frequently I would drink beer instead of eating, and that seemed to sustain me. Looking back now, those days seemed like “another lifetime ago” and then again, it was just the “blink of an eye.”

That previous evening, I stayed overnight at my mother’s home. That was customary if I had a day off work and it cut down on my trips back and forth. I left early on that Thursday afternoon, because I had many things to do at the house. Several times during the morning and early afternoon, I had thought it rather strange that Gene did not call, which was a common practice for him. I experienced some unusual feelings that could be described as “twinges” and thought maybe things were not “exactly right.” however I dismissed it and proceeded on my trip home. I passed the lake, where unbeknownst to me Gene was trolling and fishing in a borrowed canoe. I had absolutely no mother’s intuition what was about to happen in a very few short hours. This is the “veil” over our eyes, and we cannot see what is going to occur next in our world.

Gene would be coming in from the lake as soon as the “sun set.” He fished right up to the very last minute and then started to come in. When he was halfway across the lake, something happened! His canoe tipped over! How could this be? Did he stop in the middle of the lake and fish some more? Is it possible he might have “gotten a huge fish on” and the lake had suddenly become rough with large waves, causing his canoe to capsize? Gene was an experienced fisherman and had fished the lakes up and down the East Coast and in Canada for many years. He knew his limitations.

Gene called for help and I was not there! I should have been! I wished I were and would have given anything to be. I am his mother and know I could have saved him someway, somehow and I kept telling myself a million, trillion times this was the case. It was extreme agony, misery, torture, pain and most of all guilt because I was not there to try to save Gene.

If you are a “newly bereaved” mother or father, then I know you will be able to understand, fathom, comprehend and relate to this so very well. We are the parents and are expected and want so much to “save” and “take care” of our children. We do not let anything happen to them. We are always there for them. We would do anything for our children, and needless to say, we would be more than glad to die for them. We would gladly and happily trade places with them. They should be here and we should be gone. That is the way it is “supposed to be” and is the “normal course of things.”  Children bury their parents, and sooner or later one spouse will bury the other; however when one has to bury their child, they are in another place, a completely different room.