The journey began here

7 years ago today began the journey of losing my mother. On Aug. 15 2001 she went into cardiac arrest. She was young, and healthy, and it was so unexpected. I remember the phone call I got from Valeri. She said that Mom had choked or something, but that everything would be okay. She forgot to mention that my mom's heart wasn't beating on its own, that she was in an ambulance on the way to the hospital. Valeri rode with Brenda Van Otten to come pick me up. It was Brenda that related to me the seriousness of the situation. Valeri said she was going to be okay. She was supposed to be okay. After we pulled up to the emergency room, Valeri and I bolted out of the car and ran hysterically into the E.R. We waited for what seemed like forever before somebody ushered us to the trauma unit Mom was in. There they were still helping her breathe. As my family gathered in that room my dad called us in close so the boys could give her a blessing. In the blessing my dad said again that things would be okay. I felt such peace and comfort. But somehow I knew "okay" wasn't going to mean what I wanted it too.
It wasn't fair. That very same day I met Mark for lunch at Mom's house. The three of us sat at the table and chatted. I am so grateful for that, because that was the last time I saw her. But I was in a hurry to get back to work, and I didn't even hug her goodbye. She even said something to Mark about my being in such a hurry. I wish I could do that over again. I would hug her so tightly, and tell her I loved her. I had another opportunity to tell her I loved her that day. She called me minutes before the incident took place. I was in a bad mood, and she had called to express concern over something. I didn't really want to hear what she was saying. I was so selfish! Again I passed up my last chance to say those 3 words. Honestly, minutes after I hung up the phone with her, Valeri called with the news.
These next few weeks I would like to share my thoughts about the events that took place 7 years ago. I want to share what I learned from them, and how they are still helping me today.
I have learned several lessons from this day. I learned to treat every moment as though it were your last. Never hold back the I Love Yous! Who cares if you say it so much? You never know if it will be your last chance. I have learned that "okay" doesn't mean yes. Cameron told me that before the ambulance arrived, people gathered in the backyard to pray. He said as the prayer was going on, he knew that this time the answer would be no. No, we can't keep her. No, she won't be healed. Yes, it was time. I learned that "okay" meant that the Lord knew we would need him, and he would be there. He is still there. And without that, I wouldn't still be here. I am just very grateful she wasn't taken right away. Even though it was very painful to see her lifeless, it was good to see her. It was good to climb in her hospital bed and lay with her. It was good to hold her hand and pretend that she knew we were by her side. I needed some time to get used to the idea Mom was leaving us. I don't have many pictures of her, other than the ones from my wedding. So those are the ones I'll use.

Mommy, I love you!