A few thoughts on Mom

The great philosopher Winnie The Pooh once said: “How lucky I am to have someone in my life that makes saying goodbye so hard.”

To the students at school she was “Mrs. Barrouquere,” or “Ms. Musette.” To her friends and my dad, she was “Musette” or “Zetsie.”

To me, she was just “Mom.” It was a simple name and title that disguised a busy and complex life.

No matter what we had going on, Mom always had dinner ready for us. No matter how sweaty, nasty or dirty, Mom washed our uniforms so we were ready for the next practice or game. Then, we could look into the stands and see her and my dad rooting us on.

An only child who had four boys, Mom, a smart woman who under different circumstances could have done any number of things, had a lot on her hands over the years. But, she handled it all. As dad worked double shifts to help pay for Catholic school, Mom worked full-time at home to keep us on the right track.

And, she managed to keep up with everything at the house even after she went to work as a school secretary.

She was strong – mentally, emotionally and, as I discovered by dispensing some teenaged mouth at her, physically (she picked me up off the ground when I was 15).

Later in life, Mom lived in a way she probably never dreamed she would. Mom and dad traveled, she walked the streets of Europe and in Russia and took simple trips to the Gulf Coast to have what she called “mindless fun” playing nickel slots at the casino.

And, after four boys, she finally got girls in her three grandchildren. My two, now aged 14 and 10, would light up at the thought of “Nammy” coming for a visit, no matter where we were living.

And, it was definitely a mutual admiration society filled with games, shopping and lunches out.

The girls could always make her smile. On their last visit with Mom on her final Saturday, she grinned as much as she could as Dad gave her updates on Olivia tending the garden outside. Mom knew the plants were in good hands.

And, shortly before we left the house during that last visit, Lauren took Mom’s hand, told her about school and said “I love you, Nammy.”

Mom smiled. It was the last smile I saw on her face.

Yes, Pooh was right. Saying goodbye is very, very hard. But, once the sadness subsides, I and everyone who knew her will have memories of the special person who allowed us to spend big pieces of her life with her.

Thanks Mom. Until we see each other again.