A Mother’s Day Gift: How About My Grief Memoir?

Larada Horner-Miller

3 days ago

When May hits, I always think of Mother’s Day. When my mom was alive, I had probably already ordered her gift by now because we lived apart. Have you ordered your gift yet? I have a suggestion!

A Time to Grow Up: A Daughter’s Grief Memoir

Dad died in 1996; Mom died in 2013. In 2017, I published my grief memoir because it took me a few years to separate from the event and be able to write the book without sobbing. A friend aptly told me, “It should be a grief and growth memoir!” I didn’t change it because that’s almost impossible to do once a book is published.

Is Grief Relevant for Mother’s Day?

Some might think my grief memoir isn’t relevant for this celebratory holiday, but I assure you it is and here’s why.

If You Haven’t Lost Your Mom

In A Time to Grow Up, the reader faces grief for sure. My mom’s death came suddenly. She had been dealing for seventeen years with polycythemia vera, a blood disease but managing it. Something changed drastically the end of December, 2012 and she died March 23, 2013 because it had morphed into myelofibrosis, a form of leukemia.

In this book, through poetry and prose, I share my experience of being her primary caregiver and the pain of my loss. I have always felt it was a privilege to be there for her, but you, the reader can see we grow through the experience and embrace, “I Grew Up to Be the Woman I Always Wanted to Be,” one of my poems in the book. In fact, that was the name of the book originally.

Yes, some of this book faces everything ugly about what happened to her, but in reality, it’s also a celebration of her life and her resilient spirit.

If You Have Lost Your Mom

Mom and Larada in our lookalike dresses for Christmas

I know the loss of our moms is one of the biggest we will face in our lives. Facing grief, all of us do it differently. This book can work as a catalyst in facing the loss of mom.

I poured out my heart in the writing of my poetry and prose. Hopefully my words, my thoughts help you to work through your grief.

At the end of the book, I have several Appendices to help make this book work for you.

Appendix A: It’s a God Thing. I saw my God in the midst of it all and had to make note of it.
Appendix B: Activities I Did.
Appendix C: Books that were helpful to me.
Appendix D: Workbook. As a teacher, I saw this book as a tool of healing, so I offer questions and space to deal with the process of grief.

**Appendix A from A Time to Grow:**

It’s a God Thing!

I knew without a doubt that my God was beside me and in the midst of this whole ordeal of losing Mom. Because of this I believe that my life is a spiritual experience, and as a regular part of my day, I am on the watch for God actively participating in my life. Carefully I search for those telling moments when God quietly yet profoundly appears in an event or an experience and shouts to my soul, “I am here. I am in control. I love you!”

Here’s a list of the numerous God incidents that occurred during those three months from Mom getting sick and dying:

I was sober and present and able to be of service to my mom.
Bub, Lin, and I worked as a team to support Mom—long distance while Bub was still in California and then close-knit once he came to New Mexico.
Lin supported us in another way: he stepped back and let Bub and I do our work together and supported me in the background.
Karen White, my supervisor at Albuquerque Public schools, released me often to work at the hospital or at home during those three crazy months. She never questioned my work ethic and supported me completely. My colleagues did, too, and their support was invaluable.
I took a silver iced tea spoon of Lin’s to the hospital so Mom could scoop ice cream out of a glass. Ice cream was one item she could eat, and one of the nurses said it provided a lot of the nutrients she needed. Accidentally, the spoon went off to the gigantic cafeteria to be washed with all the other dishes. I talked to the nurse about its disappearance and wondered if we could get it back. She shook her head, doubting if we would ever see it again. It took several days, but we got it back! Not a surprise at all.
Bub and Cheryl, his youngest daughter, came the first part of March. It was Cheryl who picked up on Mom having trouble swallowing, which became a big issue later. Connie, Bub’s oldest daughter, was with us the day Mom passed away. Andy, Bub’s son, came immediately after Mom died. He was with us to help with funeral arrangements. He also went to Colorado Springs with me to meet with our estate lawyer. Bub was sick and couldn’t go. The timing for these three helping was perfect, but no one planned it.
When Mom was diagnosed with myelofibrosis, the hospital chaplain prayed with her, leading her through a visualization with Jesus. I watched her face as she processed the images. She so believed in the positive views of life, death, and Jesus the chaplain shared. Her spirit calmed down after that.
At the hospital where Mom received such wonderful care, Reese was the GM unit nurse who looked after Mom so carefully. She admired Bub’s and my dedication to Mom and how we worked together. She said so many elderly people come into the hospital with no family to assist them. She complimented us often.
A couple weeks before Mom passed, she was at a skilled nursing facility, but they couldn’t provide the care she needed. I felt that the hospice at one particular hospital would be the panacea for Mom because my good friend, Kathi Raver, had died there, but my God had a different plan. Mom went back to the hospital she had just been released from because she couldn’t eat and the hospice I wanted her to go into couldn’t deal with that problem. Mom received exceptional care at the hospital again and was transferred to their in-hospital hospice for three hours before she passed away, and the transition was smooth and easy.
Ten days before Mom died, she faced a scary ambulance ride from the skilled nursing facility back to the hospital. The two EMTs let me ride in the back with her to hold her hand and calm her down. It had been a grueling, long wait for the ambulance because the nausea had returned with a vengeance, and she was upset about having to go back to the hospital.
The last week of Mom’s life was hectic. I didn’t trust the hospital with what we hoped would be a (very expensive) miracle drug. I was told that I needed to meet with their pharmacist about the distribution of the expensive drug. It was late afternoon. I had sat down to catch my breath after a grueling day at the hospital. Someone slid into the seat beside me, and I didn’t look up. When I finally turned, I didn’t recognize her at first. She whispered, “You were my eighth grade English teacher in Raton.” It was Jenny Bacca Mills, the pharmacist I needed to talk to and an old student of mine. With everything going on that day, this felt ordained. I cried and cried. She hugged me as we talked, and I felt God had given her to me at this crucial time.
While Mom was in the hospital, Rhonda Sandoval, my teaching teammate and longtime friend, visited twice and brightened Mom up both times. One time she brought a colorful plant; another time she brought a delicious homemade pie. Her presence soothed my stress, and her thoughtful questions and considerations helped me process so much of the massive information I was juggling.
Dr. Wilson was Mom’s last rotation doctor at the hospital. The hospital rotated her doctor each week, and we were lucky to have Dr. Wilson at the end. She was so gentle and soft-spoken but strong. She was the best one to be assigned when Mom passed.
On the day Mom died, Dr. Wilson transferred Mom over to the in-hospital hospice instead of transferring her to another outside facility where she would have had to endure another ambulance ride. God is good!
The young, empathetic oncologist, who told me the truth about Jakafi, comforted us on Mom’s last day. She gave me great advice before I could even ask her for it: “If this was my Grandma, I would admit her to hospice and love her until she goes.”
Mom was surrounded all day by family who loved her on the day she died.
Mom died on a Saturday evening—ready to dance the evening away in heaven with Dad like so many other Saturdays in their life together.
Pam Bernal (Wendelin) and her husband, John, were the ambulance drivers who took Mom from Albuquerque, New Mexico to Trinidad, Colorado to the mortuary. Pam had been a dear friend of Mom’s for years, and I knew Mom was in good hands.
I asked Bub to join Lisa and me to pick out the outfit Mom would be buried in instead of assuming that because he’s a man he wouldn’t be interested. It was important that he was a part of that decision, and we had a memorable day.
Lisa’s humor and positive, loving spirit relieved an unbearable day as we picked out Mom’s burial outfit. She loved her “Auntie Elva” so much and that deep care permeated our time together.
Sitting at the round table in Branson with Bub and Andy, creating Mom’s memorial service, I remembered from out of the blue Mom saying my whole life, “I want ‘Stardust’ played at my funeral.”
Searching in her desk, paperwork, and Bible for some directions for her funeral, I found a sheet of paper that identified three favorite Bible verses she wanted read at her funeral: Psalms 150:4, II Timothy 3:16, and Ecclesiastes 3:1-8.
So many people came from far away for Mom’s service. Those who couldn’t come sent cards. What dear, supportive friends!
My great-nieces and -nephews hunted Easter eggs that Easter in Mom’s yard and I knew that Mom and Dad were enjoying the sight from heaven.
Not our first choice, Mom’s funeral was set for April 1st due to another service that same weekend for a dear friend of Mom’s, Alice. The decision to push the date out made it a longer wait, but our small, tight-knit ranching communities in southeastern Colorado are that important. Bub and I were then able to attend Alice’s funeral and support their family in their time of need, and one of Alice’s sons came to Mom’s and supported us.
Mom’s memorial service being on April Fools’ Day was almost fitting. She loved to pull practical jokes on any unsuspecting loved one. It also was Helen Waldroup’s birthday, her best friend.

Finally,

Whether you have lost your mom yet or not, A Time to Grow offers you an opportunity to deal with the grief associated with the loss of mom. But it also offers healing of the grief and the loss.

Have you bought your special mom her Mother’s Day gift yet? Don’t wait too long!