My mom died yesterday evening, on January 17th, 2023. Just writing those words is shattering, but it’s what happened. A month ago, she was totally fine. Now, she’s gone. She’d been under the weather with what seemed like the flu for a bit, then was fine, then was back knocked down. My mother hated doctors, so she never went, and just tried to essentially sleep it off. Finally, in the morning yesterday, she gave in and went. Pretty soon, she was being sent to the hospital. By the time I got there later in the night, she wasn’t there anymore.
You get very few constants in your life, but your mother is supposed to be one. Good times, bad times, they’re there. Sometimes they’re proud of you, sometimes they’re disappointed in you. All the time, they love you. It’s one of the things that can pick you up when you’re down or have you soar even higher when you’re up. I don’t have a particularly emotional family, making me the resident deep feeler of the clan, so we didn’t say we loved each other often. We knew it, though.
I’m writing this because this is what I do. I write. I share. And I probably will write something else soon, but right now, I just wanted to share a simple message, one that J.K. Simmons shared while accepting the Best Supporting Actor prize for Whiplash. While being on stage at the Academy Awards, Oscar in hand, he had this to say:
“Call your mom, everybody. I’m told there’s like a billion people or so (watching). Call your mom. Call your dad, if you are lucky enough to have a parent or two alive on this planet. Don’t text. Don’t e-mail. Call ’em on the phone. Tell them you love them, and thank them, and listen to them for as long as they want to talk to you.”
I wish I could talk to mine right now…