Don’t Cry Anymore!

Twelve years ago today, I stood outside on my front walkway talking with my mother before she left to go home to her empty house to have a simple dinner of vegetable chili. For some reason, my always vibrant mother looked suddenly vulnerable as the cool October breeze blew back her angel soft bangs. The first crisp fallen leaves danced down the driveway in a symphony of it’s own making as we said our goodbyes.

I remember how she had pulled closed her taupe colored jacket, clutching herself in a make shift embrace in the effort to ward off the chill. I unexplainably had the urge to hug her and a feeling that it was my turn to be the protector.

I did not know then that was to be the last time I would see her. That I had missed my last chance to tell her I loved her. That an hour later, a policeman would give me news that would forever change my life and the way I lived it.

As a child, I was my mother’s shadow. I could always be found sitting on her knee or playing nearby as she did household chores.

As a young married mother in my twenties, she was there to show me how to take care of my newborn son. Helping with late night feedings and diaper changes so I could get a full night of sleep.

When multiple sclerosis threatened to take my eyesight, she was my anchor that kept me from drowning in a sea of fear.

When life cruelly took her from me on that cool October day, I learned to stand on my own two feet. I no longer had the one thing that I could always count on in life, my mother.

The loss of your parents can bring into sharp focus, how fleeting life really is. Suddenly you become next in line, the next generation to take the feared rite of passage into the unknown.

For the first time, I found myself able to be mewithout the fear of judgments or expectations. I was free to make decisions solely on what I wanted to do rather than  what I thought that I was expected to do. It seems that no matter how old you are, when you still have parents, you live your life always knowing that part of your decision making is always based on parental approval.

Don’t get me wrong, I want nothing more than to still have my mother here. I find myself longing to  simply enjoy her beautiful spirit rather than clinging on to her like a drowning man needing a life line. There is so much I find myself wanting to share with her as a happy woman now.

When I was diagnosed with MS, one of the hardest things that came with it was having to watch my mother worry everyday about me. I was always trying to stay strong not only for me but for her, my husband and my kids. The burden of this at times was crushing.

After the loss of my mother followed shortly by my divorce of fifteen years, I suddenly was alone. But in this aloneness, I also felt free. If I wanted to, I could curl up in bed and cry. If I wanted to sleep all day, hell I would just do that. I no longer had to put on a brave face and a forced smile as I watched the helplessness in my mother’s eyes or the stress in my husbands.

In this singleness, I found the road to me.

Multiple sclerosis is a daily test of your courage and faith that no matter what the day brings, you will be strong enough to face it. What I have learned is that although I no longer have my mother to tell me that everything will be okay, her love I carry with me makes me confident that I will survive the MS ride.

For all of you living with MS and still have your parents to lean on when hardships arise, tell them how much you love them and appreciate what they do. If you are like me, standing alone but strong, celebrate the love they have given you by remaining confident in how strong you are

I was trying to decide this morning on what to bring to the cemetery today to leave with my parents as a token of my love and gratitude. I suddenly realized the best thing I can bring, is myself. To show them that they do not have to worry anymore, that I am okay.

“Look Mom, you don’t have to cry anymore, I am happily me”. 

Cindy Lee Lothian

October 2, 2013