I haven’t really gone into details about my mother on the blog other than she has passed, it is painful, and therapy helped me tremendously. (OK, well maybe I have . ) When Mr. Scooter and I first got engaged, I immediately missed her because I wasn’t able to call her and tell her the good news, but deep down, Mama Scooter knew that we would end up together! The last time we all spent time together was homecoming 2010 (late September). While my friends went out to drink and enjoy Purdue as they should, Mr. Scooter suggested that we have dinner with my mother while she waited for her friends to get in town. That Friday we went to TGI Fridays (oh the irony), had a great time, laughed until we were in tears, and dropped my mother back off at her hotel. Something didn’t feel right, but at the time I could only place it as my anxiety to meet up with my friends. The next morning, I called my mother to check in and she briefly mentioned that she had been throwing up and not feeling well. She blamed the bartender putting too much sweet and sour in her margarita. We immediately threw on our clothes and headed to grab breakfast and something to settle her stomach. An old college friend had made it into town, so I felt comfortable leaving.
Saturday and Sunday, Mr. Scooter and I spent time with our friends. Nothing abnormal about that”¦right? My mother entered Mr. Scooter in a golf tournament (which he won) on Sunday. So I dropped him off and had breakfast with my mother. When we met up, Mr. Scooter wanted to spend more time with his friends. What did that mean? I got to spend more time with MAMA SCOOTER! We got a massage, went to a movie (we both fell asleep), and then headed to the mall. By that time, I had only three and a half hours to drive Mr. Scooter to Chicago for his flight, and then return to Michigan to work (we were cutting it close). I was so angry when he said he purchased another flight that would have him leaving Chicago Monday morning. I thought it was really inconsiderate for him to not take into account my schedule. Mama Scooter had left, so as any tech-savvy daughter would do, I went on a whole rampage about it. My mother laughed and told me that I was getting too emotional about it and that one day “when he was my husband, we would fight bigger battles.” I left it at that and moved on.
Two weeks later, I found myself in Indianapolis for my nephew’s birthday party. He was turning three. We had a small family party at my SIL’s place. After the party, my mother jumped on her scooter and headed to her next engagement. She was known for always being on the go, and this weekend was no different. I saw her on Sunday and we were chatting. For the first time in years, my mother asked me to stay until Monday. Without hesitation, I sent an email to my boss and told him that I would be taking a half day on Monday. My mother and I did absolutely nothing that Sunday afternoon. We hung out at the house. Went through pictures and just lounged around. It was sooo us. My favorite part of the day happened to be when we made margaritas!
I called her when I made it back to St. Joseph, Michigan (a three-hour drive from Indy). We talked again that Monday night before I went to sleep, probably 11:00 PM. We said our goodbyes and our “love you”s. Around 3:00 AM Tuesday morning, I woke up with a weird feeling that I couldn’t shake. I called her on Tuesday on my way to work (yes, we talked that often), but she didn’t answer. I didn’t think anything of it; I figured she was just away from her phone. I went to work that morning but left my phone in my car. A coworker asked if I wanted to have lunch—I agreed but wanted to drive separately. I got to my car and my heart dropped. It was a feeling that I can vividly recall as I am writing this blog. I had missed four calls from my father & three from my brother, and I had seven text messages asking me to return their calls as soon as possible. The last text from my brother said, “Mommy had a stroke this morning, dad took her to the hospital, come home.” What seemed like forever was really just 10 minutes for me to find my boss, call him out of a meeting, and explain to him that I was leaving and didn’t know when I would be back.
That was Tuesday”¦Thursday morning, my angel, my best friend, my voice of reason was gone, and my world would never be the same again. It happened just that fast!! Mama Scooter had battled (and beat) breast cancer three times, and she was living with congestive heart failure and hypertension. Looking back on the homecoming weekend, her vomiting and not feeling well should have been a RED FLAG that we take her to the emergency room as that is a symptom of her heart weakening. Being naive, I thought that this was a battle that she was going to win. It wasn’t until we were faced with the option of performing brain surgery with no anesthesia (to relieve the swelling of her brain) to give her a 20% chance of having a normal life, or taking her off of the life support she was on that I realized I wouldn’t have my mother. If we performed the surgery (and put her in pain) she would never be the same scooter-zooming, picture-taking, margarita-sipping lady that I had grown to admire. But she always told me, “If I cannot sustain my lifestyle, then don’t keep me on life support.” This made the decision simple but not less difficult. At 11:34 AM on Thursday morning, as a family unit, we decided that we would no longer continue life support.
I couldn’t see my mother take her last breath. It was something I couldn’t stand to see. I was in a room by myself, a complete mess. The only person I wanted to see was Mr. Scooter. BM Jas called off work and went to pick Mr. Scooter up and bring him to the hospital. He made it in time”¦actually, Mr. Scooter was there with my mom as she took her last breath and was holding her hand. He stepped into the room at 12: 52 PM and told me that she had passed. Together we experienced a rush of emotion and tried our best to comfort one another.
Oftentimes, I wondered, When will I know if he is “the one”? Even in the valley of our relationship, my mother would still say, “You are going to marry Mr. Scooter.” So much so that she would invite him to family dinners and ask him to visit while we were on our “break.” I never fully got it when my mother would say, “There will come a time when you need him the most and he will show up in a big way. You will have no doubt of when that person is ”˜the one’.”
At 1:00 PM when Mr. Scooter and I were able to pull ourselves together and talk, I asked him, “When are you going back?” His response was, “I bought a one-way ticket. I’m here as long as you need me.” And that was when I knew, without a doubt, that he was the one.
Out of this traumatic experience, I have a new-found strength. I have faith like none other. I believe that this happened for a reason, although inexpiable. I know that Mama Scooter continues to watch over me with a smile on her face and a margarita in her hand!
Are you a believer that tragedy happens for a reason? How did you know your significant other was “the one”?
- IT Project Manager
- Wedding Date:
- September 2013
- Indianapolis Artsgarden