May was Mom’s month. Her birthday
and Mother’s Day sometimes fell on the same day or were close together. It was
a double celebration for her every year.
This year, I will miss that
double celebration. Her passing has left a big void.
I remember her with mixed
feelings. Don’t get me wrong, I loved
her dearly, through all the good and the bad days. I feel sadness for what life
did to her, gratitude for her guidance, and regret that she didn't always make
things right with people. I also remember her happy times, like her loud laugh,
funny songs, and dedication to family, her husband, and God.
As I watched her cope with
chronic depression, I can now see how strong she was. When she would sink into
darkness, she would always say, “I’m going to beat this.” Some days could get
really bad for her, but she was always determined to win.
I’m sure when Mom married Dad,
she had no idea what her life with him would become. I’m sure she didn’t
imagine he would be a sheriff and a police chief. I’m sure she didn’t expect to
raise her young family in a jailhouse. I’m sure she never envisioned cooking
three meals a day for prisoners and serving them. I’m sure she never thought
she would have to teach her young children about situational awareness because
of all the threats we faced.
But she found her way. She
eventually joined PTA, taught Bible class to the neighborhood kids, and taught
beginner piano lessons.
Mom was a natural introvert.
Being thrown into a fishbowl of public life was tough on her. I remember once
as a small kid, her hanging up on a newspaper reporter. Boy, was she mad. No,
it wasn’t easy growing up under a microscope. Everything we did was watched
closely.
Living in the jailhouse, I think,
was a bit much for her and for us kids. It tested her patience and
understanding when it came to raising small children. We never knew what kind
of mom we would be coming home to from school. On good days, she was happy,
singing, playing the piano, and greeting us with, “How was school today?”
On her tough days, we might find
a sad mom lying on the couch, ignoring everything around her, or an angry,
upset mom yelling and maybe giving a smack or two. We were a handful, so we
probably provoked it!
Now, when I look back, I totally
understand everything, and with clarity.
Mom was a beautiful woman. I
remember, as a kid, thinking my parents were the best-looking ever. They were
simply an attractive couple. They had their bad days, but when they had fun, it
was absolutely hilarious! My brother and I would just laugh and laugh at some
of their silliness. Dad always knew how to crank up the shenanigans and would
drag Mom into the funny stuff, too.
She was a stay-at-home mom who
managed the household budget, which was difficult, and did the grocery shopping
for the prisoners and us. Yes, it was quite an expedition to the grocery store.
She did get reimbursed for each meal she cooked for the prisoners, like fifty
cents per plate. Dad only made $500 a month as a sheriff, so the math was
tough. This was the early 1960s, so you know, things were different then.
Her depression was like a roller
coaster. She was thirty-five when she finally got a diagnosis for her
condition. She had a chemical imbalance in her brain and was prescribed
medication. Medication made life manageable. And for the most part, it worked.
She finally found a career in
Physical Therapy after raising her family. I was so proud of her. I helped her
prepare for her state exams. I never could have imagined she would go into that
field. But it was a perfect fit for her!
She kept working until she
retired. It was a somewhat early retirement. Dad and her mother died close
together, and it pushed her into a deep depression. I remember visiting her
house shortly after she got back from work one day. She was just sitting in a
chair, staring off into space, unresponsive to my questions.
I managed to get her to say a few
words and realized she could no longer handle going to work. It was too much
for her, and she made it clear she didn’t want to go back. I called her boss to
explain what was happening, and her boss had also noticed she was struggling.
No two-week notice — she just immediately retired, and her boss was okay with
it.
Soon after, I took charge of her
affairs, making sure the bills were paid and she stayed on her medication,
which was challenging. She depended on me to tell her when she wasn’t acting
right. We faced some tough days together. Most people would have walked away,
but I stayed committed. After all, she was my mother.
She eventually started attending
the same church I went to, and we got to sit together during the service. She
sang in the choir with her operatic voice, joined a Sunday school class, and
participated in some of the events. She traveled with friends and family and
was beginning to find her footing as a widow.
She always supported whatever I
was doing and would attend some of my speaking events and book signings, or
shop at my stores. Yes, shopping brought her the biggest thrill ever! She loved
SHOPPING! She was a hoarder of all things new, and yes, I had to take a shovel
to her house a few times. to dig her out! She was a girly girl and liked all
things pretty, shiny, sparkly, and glitzy!! She always kept her hair, makeup,
and nails done, loved jewelry, and enjoyed being around beautiful things.
She loved the arts and was an artist
herself. She crocheted and embroidered to pass the time. She amassed a huge
library over her lifetime; yes, she was an avid reader. Most of her collection
showed an interest in autobiographies, history, and cookbooks! I have no idea
how many cookbooks there were. A bunch! She even had an air-controlled room in the
back of her garage for her overflow library.
As she aged, her mental health
worsened, and her reactions to things became more intense. She wasn’t able to
process situations properly and often overreacted. It became increasingly
difficult to work with her. We finally had to add more medication to help
stabilize her.
Her words grew harsher, but I
knew it wasn't really my mom speaking. I would fondly remember who she had been
to get me through the incident. My real mom was sweet, funny, loving, caring,
and would never harm anyone. I had to remember her that way, not the one who
was acting out.
Eventually, we had to place her
in a nursing home because she was getting injured and not caring for herself.
She needed emergency surgery to treat a severe infection, and then the doctor
told us she wasn’t going home this time.
I knew I was going to face a
tough challenge, maybe a fight, but in truth, she was so sick that she wasn’t
fully aware of what was happening. The struggle happened later, but by then she
was mostly accepting the situation.
I can truly say that the last 5 ½
years of her life, with her living in the nursing home, were the closest we've
ever been, ever.
We would talk forever, as if we
were making up for lost time. We’d laugh, discuss current events, and she’d
identify some old photos for me. She’d share stories from the past, including
ones I’d never heard before. Like the story of some guy trying to take an ax to
my dad! You know, just amazing stuff like that! Geez, law enforcement! The
stuff we lived through.
We’d discuss the Bible, Jesus,
and our homecomings. She truly loved the Lord. She genuinely listened to me
when I shared my challenges and offered sincere, heartfelt advice. Not from a
place of judgment, like in the past.
We were like besties. I would
greet her with, “Well, hello, mommy!” and she’d smile really big. She would
laugh at my jokes, my silly behavior, and my debraisms, which I am so famous
for. We always ended our visits with “I love you” and by forming a heart with
our hands. Then I would say, “Goodbye, mommy, see you soon!”
I miss her so much.
Note: If you suffer from
chronic depression, do not suffer alone or in silence. Reach out for help,
surround yourself with those who are strong enough to help, keep you on
track, check in on you, and advocate for you. Do not do it alone.
Debra Lee | Author & Keynote Speaker | Biz & Life Coach | DLBizServices.com
#chronicdepression #depression #mom #mothersday #support #mentalhealth
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