Mom

Today I was talking to my sister about last Easter (the Easter of the SPEW) and we talked about our mother. It's been 12 years--12! I told Wendy that this morning I'd seen Mom, as I always do, in the mirror. After Mom died I had several dreams that she was with me, but I only saw her in the mirror. Always the mirror. At a hotel in a third-world resort, in the rearview of a nearby car, it didn't matter where, it was always a mirror. I know this for what it is: my own face resembles my mother's and there are times her features are clearly evident, whether it's the set of my mouth or the tilt of my head or the look in my eye.

Most of you know my mother died after the liver she'd received in a transplant developed cancer. Mom had a choice: take the drug that kept her liver from being rejected but which would permit the cancer to grow; or stop the drug, cease the cancer's growth, and allow the liver to fail. Her choice was the latter, the least painful.

My mother endured much in her life. Her death was quiet and befitted a woman of her strength. I wonder if she knows what's happening and is sending me some of that strength when she shows up in my mirror.