She was a feisty, strong and caring woman, who taught me so much. She fostered my love of politics, old movies like Meet Me In St. Louis, all the Shirley Temple films, and what it means to give so much of yourself to the people you love. She was the kind of person who you could call in the middle of the night, and she would drop everything to listen.
I have always felt very connected with her. Sometimes she understood me in a way that no one else did. When I was growing up she used to take me shopping and out to lunch on my birthday. I remember one particular birthday, we went Aladdin’s, I was probably 11 or 12, and we had finished our lunch, and were splitting a piece of cheesecake. She sat there for probably 30 minutes and listened to me ramble on about the smallest details of my dream home that I had concocted in my mind.
She wasn't perfect, but nobody is. She could be moody, she worried to much, and my god was she stubborn. But she was an incredible person. She raised five children, and adored her 4 grandchildren and 2 great-grandchildren.
Some days I let myself forget, pretend like this summer didn’t happen. That I didn’t come home from College to a world of hospital visits, oxygen machines, chocolate cupcakes from Au Bon Pan, and heartbreaking news, and eventually hospice.
The doctors at the Cleveland Clinic were so incredible to her, and to us. I will never forget their kindness, tenacity and determination to try and beat this. But ultimately it was just too late. I was with the other side of the family on vacation, when the decision was made to stop chemo treatments, and we were told that she had “days to weeks” to live. Apparently one of her doctors, who she thought totally looked like Prince Harry, had bonded with her over their shared love of frog legs. The night we found out, he brought her frog legs in the hospital, of his own accord and caring.
The wonderful people in the hospice not only took care of her in her last days, but they also took care of us. The support of loved ones and friends was what got us through, and is continuing to get us through.
The first thing I wanted to do when I heard about the blizzard that hit parts of the east coast early this week, was call her and let her know I was ok, because she would have worried. My heart is breaking that she won’t see me graduate from college, get married, have kids, and share in both the joys and sorrows of my life. I want more than anything to give her one more hug, say I love you, and watch Meet Me In St. Louis while eating hot wings just one more time.
