The First Cut is the Deepest

Tina, me, Rosa, Toni and Mom - May 2009

My mom has been called just about everything…A once in a lifetime kind of friend… A gift… An angel on earth... She was indeed a unique and vibrant soul. Mom always had an easy, simple way about her. She was also very easy to love.

To me, she was simply Mom.

Mom was faithful and quick to smile and endearing. She was also loyal but could make you think hard when you needed to. She was compassionate and she was the most intuitive person I have ever known. If I could summarize my mother in one word, that word would be “generous”.

She was a counselor by schooling, profession and salary, but I think that the most powerful and meaningful work mom performed was the pro-bono counsel she doled out in her relationships with family and friends.

Growing up, Mom was always quick to listen or encourage. She was the kind of person that would not just lend a hand, but give the shirt off her back if she thought it would help you. Mom was, as you may know; given an exceptional ability to help people make their lives work better. She strived to do what was right, even if it wasn’t always easy. Mom never rested, she never stopped; there was always the next thing to be done.

She was married to my dad, Dr. William Gould, for 29 years. In 1999 they were busy and excited, planning their party which would celebrate their 30th anniversary together. Mom was such a devoted wife to my Dad, in every sense of the word. And Dad was always grateful for her love and her free-spiritedness. After their wedding in March 1970, mom was tested almost immediately as my father became critically ill. He suffered from a life long condition that threatened to take his life at any moment. Mom was gifted with such compassion, that she cared for my father dearly throughout their marriage. And when that affliction finally took Dad, mom displayed such depth of character; I hardly know how I got through except by following her example. The anniversary party never happened, but mom pressed on. She stuck around to witness my graduation, my career begin to bloom, my marriage, my first home, and my son's birth. She hung around and defied what I thought was certain death three times in five years to make sure I got things right before she sounded the all-clear.

Today, when I close my eyes, I see her believing in me and encouraging me in everything I did. Never for a moment have I ever doubted her love for me. Mom’s life taught her a lot about loss and, in turn, she was able to teach me a lot about love. She gave me the freedom to grow and explore, to fail and succeed and to build my life on my own terms.

If mom were here today – she would start with a joke and lead into a lecture about life and the importance of living it fully. She would tell you to do the important things today, and not plan and wait for someday in the future. Because mom knew all too well, that tomorrow does not always come and the next day is never promised to you.

Mom was quite a character. She was one of those people that didn’t live just one life… As you can probably notice from her pictures, she lived so many different lives, and yet, I know she retained friends from every chapter. I’m sure everyone who has met her has a different story about her, a story that would make you laugh, make you cry, a story about something she once said that left you both in awe and yet utterly confused at the same time. Cancer accompanied my mother everywhere she went for the last 15 years of her life. It powerfully twisted everything we thought to be true about life, broke the mold of our expectations about how life should go, and in the end, it won its relentless pursuit of her body. But the cancer also acted like a crucible, forcing authenticity to the top, clarifying what was important over what was urgent, and giving us all the chance to think and talk about things for a long time. Yes... Those things…

Mom was authentic, spirited and unafraid to be herself. When we made the promise to care for her every need years ago, I could never have imagined the path that vow would take or how we would be transformed in the process. My world shrank, and the circle of family and friends that mattered most came very clearly into focus – my only sister-in-law became my only sister… My mom’s closest friends became additional aunts… Church acquaintances that I nodded hello to on Sunday mornings suddenly became those to whom I could bare my soul in the darkest of hours…

My mom continued to inspire me even until she drew her last breath that peaceful Tuesday night last September. In her final weeks, she continued to pour herself out into others, working to counsel everyone on final goodbyes. Cancer is different the second time around… The first time you play to win, but the second time you play to live long enough to try and die from something else. Yet over the past 5 years of ups and downs, mom taught me that real strength can be found in real vulnerability.

I have also learned that a story punctuated and ended by cancer does not have a nice, neat ending.  But really, that was the way my mom always was – a flurry of ideas, insights and observations, encouraging me and others to draw our final conclusions.  One conclusion I have come to is that the loss of someone really special cuts deeper and last longer than you would ever expect.

(by susan)