"Mommy, Did you Nana was in the hospital for a few days?"
"Yes."
"I was sad, when she was there."
"Me, too, sweet heart. But the doctors made her better, right?"
"Jesus made her better," he corrected me, "because Miss Grace prayed for her."
"A lot of people prayed for her and you're right, Jesus made her better."
"Now she's home. I'm happy she's home so she can take me to the airport, now."
(They love going to the airport together to watch the planes)
The trauma of that day, the day my Mom had her heart attack, is still very raw for all of us, even the smallest members of our family were, clearly impacted. I can't begin to thank all of you enough. For prayers, for thoughts, for phone calls, for messages on my voice mail, for emails, for your love, and for your understanding of why I still haven't called you back. I'd love to sugar coat it all. To brush it all off my shoulders and to say that it's fine because she's fine now. But the truth is, when I saw my mom in the emergency room, in more pain than I've ever seen any human being, pale as a ghost and clearly talking as if she were saying her last words to me, my own heart suffered an emotional attack. It's funny how your mom, even when you're in your 30s, is still supposed to be untouchable. I can count on one hand how many times I've ever seen my mom sick at all. In that moment, as I held her hand dashing down the hall to the operating room, I remember thinking about Oalin. How in the world would I ever tell him that something happened to his biggest fan, his best friend, his Nana. There is a bond between them that is unlike any other. I can't describe the love that they have, but it's different, different than the love between a mother and child, different than the love between husband and wife. So warm and so incredibly special. I know that bond because I had it with my own grandmother, my Memere. During this past month, I've thought a lot about her. If I could come up with one phrase that would sum up what I believe my Memere stood for it would be, "Family is all that matters." My mom had few guests while she was hospitalized, she really just needed to recover. But seeing all of her siblings come to visit for, quite literally, 5 minutes (because that was all my mom could handle) was so heart warming, so supportive. As much as I knew everything was going to be okay, having the thoughts and prayers from family and close friends was truly what held me together and what helped my mom to recover. The biggest irony I have realized in a profound way is that on Christmas we celebrate the birth of Jesus, yet, he didn't receive a present. We did. The life of my mom.
Oalin and Nana at the Airport
