First off, let me say that my mother absolutely loved Christmas! She loved God, so loving the season of Christmas was a natural outflowing of her relationship with God. From the time I was a little kid I can remember going off to school in the morning and coming home in the afternoon to our house transformed into a wonderland of tinsel and decorations. Mom did it up right. From the decorations, to the food everything was wonderful! She made it meaningful, beautiful and memorable for our family.
Fast forward from 1970 something to 1999. It was just a couple of weeks before Christmas. My husband Leo had just completed several rounds of chemotherapy for non-Hodgkin's lymphoma. We were celebrating that the treatment was complete! A friend of ours had taken him to Buffalo for his appointment that day. I was at home getting the kids ready to go to their school Christmas program. I had just finished helping Annie put on her special Christmas dress, when the phone rang. Answering it, I found my mother on the other end of the line. She had called to tell me that she was going in for surgery, that she may have breast cancer. Suddenly the previous celebration was forgotten. My mother did have breast cancer and over the following nine months received treatment for the cancer. In August of 2000 my mom was pronounced cancer free. To celebrate my father and mother booked a trip to Ireland, with my aunt and uncle. Mom and Dad loved Ireland. At the end of September they flew off to celebrate my Mom's good health. A few days later my cousin called to tell me that Mom and Dad came home early from their trip. Mom wasn't feeling well. My husband and I immediately left for Mom and Dad's house in Cincinnati. Arriving we found my Mom looking very tired and sick. She was having a difficult time breathing. The next morning I went with her to the doctors office. X-rays, scans and blood work were ordered. The cancer had come back. It was everywhere. Her options were to treat and maybe get six more months of life, or not to treat and have six weeks. Mom chose not to treat. We went home, and made arrangements for hospice. Leo went home and I stayed with the kids to take care of my mom in her last days.
One afternoon I was sitting in the chair next to my mother's bed holding her hand as she slept. I couldn't keep the tears from pouring down my face. How I was going to miss her. Mom woke up and saw me crying. She reached up and wiped a tear from my cheek and I remember ever so clearly what she said to me.
"Don't cry Meggie. I get to be home for the holidays with Mom and Dad, and Mimi (her sister)."
The memories of Christmas came flooding back, how Mom did everything up right. I remember, particularly well how the radio was always on in the background piping in the sounds of the season. Whenever the song "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays" by Perry Como would come on, my mom would tell us about Grandma, her mom. It was her favorite song. Grandma had died when I was just a little girl. I had very few memories of her, but my Mom kept her alive and real to us through her memories. Every time that song came on the radio we would turn it up and sing along. It made my Mom so happy to hear that song.
Over the next few days Mom drifted in and out of consciousness. It was the middle of the night very close to the end. The house was still and quiet. Mom hadn't said a word all day. Everyone had turned in for the night sometime earlier. I kept my vigil in the chair next to Mom's bed holding her hand. As I sat in the chair memories of my Mom and the wonderful life she gave me, my brothers, and my dad floated through my mind. I thought of Christmas and how different it was going to be that year without her. Then I remembered what she said. "I get to be home for the holidays."
In the quite of the night I began to sing "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays". The tears were streaming down my cheeks. I didn't know if Mom could hear me, but I somehow wanted her to know I was happy that she was in fact going to be home for the holidays, celebrating her Savior with her Mom, Dad and sister. As I sang the song, I received the surprise of my life. My Mom, though seemingly almost passed from this world to the next began to sing quietly with me. I couldn't believe it! We got to sing it together...one more time. Mom passed quietly the next night.
This morning as I was getting ready for the day, "There's No Place Like Home for the Holidays" came on the radio, which is always on piping in the sounds of the season, just like when I was a little girl. As I stood in front of the mirror doing my hair. Alex came in and said, "There's Grandma's favorite song." I had to smile. You see, Alex never got to know my mother. She passed before he was born, but he knows all about her, right down to her favorite song. She is alive and well in all of our memories. I know God blessed me with that very special moment so many years ago when I got to sing her favorite song with her..... just one more time.
Annie once asked me if Christmas without my Mom makes me sad. My response, "No Annie. My Mom got to go home for the holidays and I wouldn't wish her anywhere else. She's celebrating with the REASON for the season."
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