Tell Me I'm The Most Beautiful Girl

Tomorrow is my mom's birthday. It will her first birthday since Dad passed away on the 19th of last month. I imagine that tomorrow will be hard for her. My mom and dad were together for 37 years when he died. 

• They grew up together - they were only 16 and 19 when they met. 
• They owned a business together - I grew up with parents with a pet store. How awesome is that?
• They had two children together - I'm totally the favorite though. True story. Don't tell my sister. It will crush her.
• They coached softball teams together - And more than once took them to the World Series. 

But more than all of that? They were and still are an amazing example of unconditional love. The things that my mother has done for my father continue to astound me every day. There were days that my mother had to be a therapist, a nurse, a CNA, a massage therapist, the maid, the cook, a wound care specialist, a patient advocate, and a wife. Some of these would overlap, sometimes they all came on in a span of an hour or two. All at once. 

Loving someone isn't easy when you're faced with a terminal illness or a life-altering change. My mother has done both of these things for my father. And I couldn't be more grateful. There were so many times I realized that if my mother wasn't as strong (and strong-willed!) as she continues to be - things would have been different. 

I saw my mother fight for the best health care possible for my father. This means she battled nurses, doctors, certified nursing assistants, nursing home directors, rehab facility social workers, and insurance companies. 

I saw her sit patiently by his bedside, helping him eat half of a hamburger. One that she probably jumped up to go purchase late at night because he said he was hungry, finally. Although, I won't lie - I also saw her sneak some of his fries. Don't tell him. 

I saw her, when his legs stopped functioning properly, spend time every day moving this legs for him - insuring that the blood flow wouldn't stop and telling him all the time about how he was going to get up and walk down the hall with her again. She really tried to trick him into some ballroom dancing lessons. But he was too quick to fall for all that. 

I saw her get out of bed at 2 a.m. to help move and clean him when it was necessary. And she still got up at 6 a.m. the next morning to make sure he had his meds. And that I had mine - an IV of coffee. 

I saw her administer IV medications in their living room. All the while chatting about how she was not a nurse. She may not have been a nurse, but she was better at it than some of the professionals we encountered. Although, she didn't have as readily an access to drugs to give me. So that was slightly a bummer. 

I saw her hunting down people in a nursing home Dad was at for rehab, making sure they knew that he needed something. Never taking no for an answer, and picking up the slack where she could - since it was pretty apparent that they were not lazy but just understaffed many times. I think I may have seen her cheat once at Bingo. That blue-haired lady she beat will be really mad when she reads this, I think. 

My main point is - my mom wore so many hats through my dad's journey. And she did them all because she loved him. And she believed in him. Many times people would try to convince us that maybe sending him to a facility would be the best idea. Mom would tell them (not so) politely that this was not an option for us. And when we'd get him home? He'd perk up. He'd start to talk again, he'd be his old self. That's what love can do for you. Love can heal. And my mom may not have been a nurse - but she had never ending love. Up until the day that Dad passed and for all the years to come - she has loved him more strongly than I have ever seen another human being care for someone. I feel priviliged to have been born into a family like this. I feel lucky to see what unconditional love looks like. Even in the worst of times. Even when days were bad and Dad was unresponsive or overmedicated - she would lean down and whisper in his ear that he was the strongest man she knew. She's right. But she's also a bit of a superhero herself. 

Once, a speech therapist was working with Dad. He had recently been intubated and had to work on his swallowing and recovering from having the tube removed. The speech therapist said "Just say anything." 

Mom replied by telling him "tell me I'm the most beautiful girl in the world." 

Slowly Dad said "You are the most beautiful girl," then there was a pause, "that I ever married." 

You were a lucky dude, dad. And not just because Mom didn't knock you out after saying that. But she gave you everything she had. And when you're running for two-plus-years on empty - it's hard to give everything you did. But there she was. Every day after work. Rushing home to take care of Dad. Or running to whatever hospital or facility he was getting treated at. Telling him he was the strongest man she knew. And besides? She's still the prettiest girl you ever married. (Like I said, you were a lucky man.) 

I think that the way Dad is looking at Mom in this picture from a few years ago really sums it up. He may not have said it as often as he would have liked. But he knew how lucky he really was.
 

I also know he would have loved nothing more than to be here and wish her a happy birthday. And he really would have wanted to give her a pony for her birthday. Okay, maybe the pony is for me. You can't blame a girl for trying, though.