SuperBowl Sande

This is the second to last post of my mother's story before we start the new installments in March. Even sitting here writing about the fact that March is next week fills me with anxiety and sadness. We are headed into the last month of her life, a life that meant so much to so many.


PS ... The One Sentence I Wish I Could Take Back ~ Chapter 11 in her life

On a lighter note, please check in tomorrow for my Oscar picks and a pic of what I have come up with to wear to the Oscar Bunco party tonight. Trust me, it is sooooooo worth seeing! HA!

PS ... The One Sentence I Wish I Could Take Back ...chapter 11 in her life

"I got a bad feeling about this." ~ Han Solo, all three original Star Wars movies.

Ever get that weird feeling that something just isn't right? You don't know what it is, you can't pinpoint it, but you know that there is something that is off in some way.

Bruce and I getting married was such a wonderful time, being home with family for a few days after the big weekend was a great unwind to months of stress and planning. Now we were finally husband and wife, with baby on the way, and we felt elated, refreshed and relieved. When it came time to go back to California, my mother was the one who wanted to drive us back to the airport. We had been spending most of our free time with our mothers those last couple of days and she was all smiles telling us her favorite parts of the big day. She looked truly happy to me, very at peace with where she was in life. She parked right in front of the airport, as you can at Lambert International, and Bruce insisted on getting all of the luggage out of the car. She and I were starting to say our goodbyes, thanking each other for such a meaningful time. Bruce paid the curb check and came back to say his goodbyes to my mother. He gave her a big squeeze, kissed her and told her that he was going to take care of me the best he could. She told him she knew he would and turned to me. I hugged her tight, I did not want to let go. She was whispering in my ear how proud she was, how much she admired my heart and how much she loved me. She said that she knew that my marriage would work because Bruce and I truly loved each other. She said that this gave her great joy, knowing that I was honestly loved by the one I admired most. She told me all kinds of things. She put me on top of the world and then gave me one last giant squeeze and let me go. She was crying a little, but had a huge smile on her face. I told her I would call her when we got home safe, but to go and get some sleep in the mean time, she looked exhausted.

I turned and walked to the terminal with Bruce. I stopped and looked back to see if she had gone, and she was still there. She was crying so hard that her body was shaking and she was just standing by the car. I had never seen her like that, I started to go back but Bruce said we had to catch the plane. I thought about her the entire flight, she looked so upset. When we got home I called right away. I mentioned that I saw her crying and asked if everything was alright. She told me that for some reason ... "it felt like that was the last time that I was going to see you." I told her she was talking crazy and all I did was get married, not leaving the continent. We laughed. I did think it was an odd statement for her to utter.

The months we spent pregnant were wonderful. Bruce was not with me for the previous births and he was enjoying the growing belly as much as I was. He got into it just like a new father should have. He catered to me, bought little things for his son and glowed at times, just like a maternity glow for a mother. He was very excited about the life we were starting together, telling me often how much he looked forward to being a father. It made me feel so good to have him, maybe too good. I began to get the feeling that things were going just TOO good for me. I could not have all of this without something happening to pop the balloon that I was in. I started to worry that because Bruce was so lighthearted and hopeful that perhaps there was something that was going to happen to him. Then when I really started to think about it I would worry that there was something that was going to happen to the baby. Maybe I had pushed my luck with the first two pregnancies and this one was not going to end well. I know that sounds so pessimistic of me to say, but I really thought that things were just coming together so well that it was bound to all come to a crashing halt.

I talked to my mother probably two times a day when I was pregnant with Bodde. I told her all the time that I thought something was a mist, something was just not sitting well with me. She asked all kinds of questions: Are you feeling okay? Are you getting enough sleep? Do you think Bruce is doing something he shouldn't be? She meant well, but I told her it was beyond any of that, especially the Bruce one. I told her that he was so happy and carefree that he was the only reason I wasn't a crying mess. She told me that I was a 'nervous Nelly' and that it was just hormones that were kicking in the closer I got to the third trimester. It was around Christmas, so she was sure that had something to do with it also. Just emotional from the pregnancy, getting bigger, getting more difficult to get comfortable, she told me that I needed to get a massage and relax, things were going to be fine. She told me to keep in mind that God loved me and was not going to let anything happen to this baby. She had been praying for a healthy baby and that was what He was going to give me.


We moved closer to the due date and I got much larger. Bruce thought it was cute, I thought it was getting a little over done, and my mother was enlisting my boss to take pictures of me at work and email them to her so she could see her grandson grow. It was hilarious, she was so excited about that baby that she was leaving all kinds of messages for him, telling him that he had the coolest Grandma ever and she would soon be there to spoil him to pieces. She left messages for Bruce with my favorite recipes and movies to rent, even if it was a chick flick he would have to watch them because I was the Queen with the baby in my belly so he had to do what she told him. It actually worked because he did end up watching some of my favorite movies, and yes, he did like a couple of them! ( By the way, I never spoke of this...) She was sending me chicken n dumplings in the mail because I could not find Sweet Sue in the stores, and had not nearly enough patience to cook them all day long. She was planning to take early retirement from the VA a couple of months after Bodde was born so she could come to California and live with us. She was going to help us buy a house with her pension and retirement, as long as Bruce would build her an Grandma Bungalow in the back of the property. That is what she called it, her GB back in the yard. She said that she wanted a place to get away, but wake up to the laughter of her grandchildren in the morning. She was getting more and more California crazy with each passing day. And I, of course was thrilled that we would be together with this baby, after so many years of watching from afar we were finally going to be able to see my children grow. I was going to be a mommy, and she was going to be a Grammy. We were busy planning life, but I still had a sense that there was something there, something just waiting to come along. The closer we got to delivery day, the more it festered in my head.


The end of January was my mother's favorite time of the year. Know why? Super Bowl Sunday! If there was ever a woman who loved football, it was my mother. She knew every rule, every player, every play...she just loved her football. She was a lover of Terry Bradshaw and the Pittsburgh Steelers. I was a Dallas Cowboys freak. To say that Super Bowl Sunday in our house was quiet and lovely would be like say that Jerry Springer and Barbara Walters have a lot in common. Oil and water, baby, oil and water. So later in life, when I fell in love with another Dallas Fan my mother took no mercy on us when the Boys were doing bad. She would call during a game when they had just messed up in some way and taunt us on the phone, or in most cases...a message on the answering machine. "Hey! Why aren't you answering the phone? Are you crying? Are you wishing that Troy Aikman wasn't so old and he could magically reappear and save this sorry team?' or "So, do you think it says in the playbook to blow the game in the last 30 seconds, keeping them out of the playoffs again yet again?..." (hysterical laughter following) or "When you think Jerry Jones will buy a whole new team? He sure needs one!" She was relentless. She was hysterical. She made Bruce laugh really hard, and he loved to laugh. She called at least three times on Sundays, just to discuss games and certain plays. Football Freak!

So in 2000 when the St. Louis Rams went to the Super Bowl, I was sure that she would be calling all throughout our Super Bowl party. The Rams scored. No call. The Rams score again. No call. We were hosing a lot of people in our tiny apartment that year so I really kinda didn't pay attention. I did think it strange, but maybe she was watching it somewhere else. All I knew was I had chicken wings to sauce and potato skins to dress. Being pregnant during the holidays and Super Bowl Sunday was the best! Finally, the Rams win the Super Bowl and I thought for sure she would be calling. We watched the ceremonies, saw Kurt Warner, got a phone call from friends at a party in St. Louis, but no call from my football loving mother.


I finally picked up the phone and dialed her number, feeling full of pride for my hometown and ready to give her some trouble for not calling me on this of all days. It rang. It rang again. Several more times it rang until finally she picked up.


"Hello?"


"Well, I guess you can die a happy woman now, huh?"


There was silence.


"What?" she asked in voice of disbelief. Almost as if she were shocked. "Why would you say that?"


"MOM! Your Rams won the Super Bowl! Why didn't you call? I thought for sure you would have called during that amazing game...what's going on?!" I was still carefree in my tone. I was sure that she would be happy that they won, that she finally was in a town with a Super Bowl WIN! She, however, was not.


"I'm not feeling too good. I don't want to talk right now. I will call you later. Love you." She hung up. I stood there motionless. It was the shortest conversation I ever had with my mother. I had a bad feeling, a real bad feeling after that phone call. Bruce told me to say something to her, but the look on my face told him that something was wrong. I told him about the exchange of words that I had with her and he assured me that she was just not feeling well. He said that I should have a good time, stop worrying, eat some food and relax. I was able to do that, and soon I was lost in conversation with good friends. I called much later in the evening, but she did not answer. I figured she was just tired and sleeping. I told myself that I was just being paranoid and I should just go to bed myself, it had been a very long day.


I know now the repercussions of that sentence. What I said to her was nothing short of a kick in the gut to her. You see, what I did not know, what no one knew, was that the cancer was spreading throughout her body at that point. It had been growing tentacles and worming itself through organs like they were fertilized pockets of health that needed to be destroyed. It was taking over her body and she knew it. She was not telling me, but she was telling a few of the people around her that she just did not feel right after her gallbladder surgery 5 months earlier. She was complaining to her doctor back in the summer that she was having pains in her side. He chalked it up to gallbladder because first, there was family medical history of gallbladder problems, and second was the fact that my mother was overweight. I remember the day of her surgery. I was working and I specifically asked my boss to use his phone at his desk to call and check on her. Her surgery was delayed for some reason, but she eventually had it and recovered from it just fine. Two months later she was at my wedding, and I could not see anything that was different. She didn't look sick to me. She was hiding it all from me because she did not want to worry me. She probably was also not wanting to admit it to herself. She hated cancer. She lost her brother to it and also had had to watch the slow, horrible demise of her sister who battle with the beast. It was a huge fear of my mother's. She was always sending me information about Ovarian Cancer because my paternal grandmother died from it way back when. She was always telling me to keep up with my OBGYN and get my tests done, you can never be too careful. Well, somehow in all her literature and all the signs that she had, she missed the warnings. Or perhaps she expressed those fears and her doctor did not listen because of her obesity. We will never know. What I do know is that this is now the beginning of the end. This was where I started to see real signs that my gut feeling was not such a fantasy fear of mine. It was very real, very intense, and it was happening at a time in her life that should have been so happy and hopeful. Her life was rapidly coming to a pain filled end in a shocking sequence of events that left me, and everyone who knew her, with a tidal wave of pain, disbelief, anger, and catastrophic sadness that still washes over me from time to time. I had no idea this was coming. No warning at all. And to think, I spoke those words to her. "I guess you can die a happy woman, huh?" I don't think I will ever be able to get past that.




Next part of the story gets harder. I find wonderful joy and immense grief are two hard pills to swallow simultaneously. Bodde is born and one month later, she's gone.

PS ... Sande's Baby Loves Bruce ~ chapter 7 in her life

Life after baby was strange for both my mother and I. We became even closer than we were before and I think it had to do with both of us having our hearts broken first by our beloved men, then with the adoption of my first child, her first grandchild. We relied on each other heavily for the following year. She was supportive and also wanted me to look into taking action against the State of Missouri for their terrorist like treatment of me. I refused, I did not want to be in front of one more person explaining my life. I was done explaining me to people I did not know. I wanted to just move on and try to live life the best I could. We kept in touch with my daughter and her parents were excellent about sending updated pictures and letters. I cannot even begin to tell you how comforting those envelopes were when we would see one in the mail box. My mom and I would sit for hours and look at her, then get out the photo albums and compare the genes within our family tree. It was astounding how much she looked like me. I am not kidding, she was the spitting image of me in the face with dark hair and olive toned skin. She was so beautiful and in every single picture was a gigantic smile on her face. She looked truly happy, so comfortable in her home with her family, it was hard not to smile through the tears of missing her. I had proof in my hands that she was a loved and spirited child.

But at the same time, it was also kind of sucky to know that she was so happy without me. I couldn't help but think 'Will she ever know how much I think about her? Will she ever know that I am only doing what I thought would be best for her? Can she ever forgive me for not raising her, hugging her daily, showing her the world myself?" These were questions that were blatantly on my face because my mother could see it.

"You do know that you are very brave, don't you?" my mom would ask me. I would usually just nod and blow off the comment.
She asked me often until ... "No. I do not feel brave." I responded one time.

"Well, let me tell you something. I could never have done what you did for that baby girl. Matter of fact, I am not sure that I know anyone who could have done that. I am a strong woman who has been through a lot. But you have seen much more that I ever did at your age and I am amazed at how you show me everyday what it is to be brave in the face of heartache. I know that you may not see it now, but you truly are my hero. I am proud of you and will always be proud of what you did."

I was floored, She was the one who was always strong, I thought she was brave. Here she is telling me how proud she was of me, that she wishes she could be more like me. WOW. I was stunned, and so filled with love for her.

"Mom, I am brave only because you taught me to be that way. You have shown me respect and love in the face of humiliation and ridicule. I would never consider myself any braver than you."

She looked at me and smiled. "But you were strong enough to ask for help when so many others would not have. You were smart enough, and mature enough to admit that you could not provide for your child. I know that I could never ask for help like that."

I had never thought of it in that way before. I realized that she was right. Asked for help. By God I did ask for help, and I also expressed my thoughts on how I thought that it would be better for my daughter to always know where I was, and who I was. Conversations like this were frequent and often so healing for me. She never shied away from talking about the adoption, she welcomed it encouraging me to get things off my chest. She should have been a therapist.


In the following year I slowly began to try to return to normal life. I was beginning to feel depressed again and I was trying to use what I had learned in treatment to get back on my feet. I started to spend more and more time with my good friends who all knew about the adoption, but kind of shied away from talking about it. Not that they did not want to hear me, I just think they did not know what to say to help me. Heading into the summer I found myself hanging out with my friend Bruce much more than usual. It all started when we discovered that we both liked hockey...correction, we loved hockey! I had recently moved out of my mom's in an attempt to remove myself from such familiar settings, and I move in with my dear friend Marie that I worked with. She had a boyfriend and was at his house often, unless we were working at the restaurant together, so most of the time I had the place to myself.

Bruce started coming over all the time because we really did get along well and we made each other laugh. I had been friends with him since high school so we had many of the same friends. He had a girlfriend for a long time, but she had moved to another state at the beginning of the summer which freed up some of his time and I think he just like hanging out with a female friend to replace the loss he was feeling. He was tough, hilarious, likable, gutsy and yes, kind of cute. He was a true friend ... loyal beyond what you could ask for, always had your back and never judged people based on what was on the exterior. He did not care what others thought about his brass personality, he brought life to a party and mischief to the most ordinary task with a laugh that was quite contagious. It wasn't until the end of the summer that we both discovered, at about the same time, that we were madly in love. I mean it really snuck up and just bit us in the ass. Literally. One day I woke up thinking...'Wonder what I will do today?" and the next day I woke up and thought...'Wonder if Bruce is thinking about me? Wonder what he is doing today?' He will tell you that it started long before that, that he always thought I was intriguing. He just saw me in a different light over those warm nights in my apartment partying with friends. He says that we were attracted to each other long before that night. That amazing night when we said ... 'Let's see where this goes.' As I sit here writing this we are heading into our 19th year of loving each other. I would say it has gone pretty well so far.


One problem. Pretty Sande. She was not thrilled that I was living out of the house, and now she was seeing that Bruce and I were a little more than friends. She loved Bruce. She would laugh and laugh with him, she got the biggest kick out of his attitude. He was originally from New York and that fascinated her as well. He was a good friend of mine for several years, through thick and thin, and he never let me down. What's not to like? Well, this all changes when you begin to date that friend. My mother did a quick 180 on Bruce. She did not want her baby to get hurt like before, and with the added factor that I was still fragile from the adoption, to say that her radar was on mother-overload would be an understatement. She was cordial to him when he would come to visit, but she was not as warm before. I think it was her way of letting him know that no matter how many laughs they had before we started dating she was not going to let her daughter get her heart broken without her trying to prevent it. She was protecting her cub, but the cub was not appreciating it. I was thinking to myself that I had lived a lifetime in the last three years and if he is what made me happy then I was going to explore that happiness to the fullest extent. I was a little aggravated because I knew that he was the one, I already knew that I was never going to love another man the way that I loved him. I had learned from the women in my family and I made sure that I was expressing myself honestly and openly with him. There was not too much that he did not already know about me, so there really was nothing to hide. It was a great honest start to a romantic and perfectly fitting courtship.


Fast forward to when I learned I was pregnant with the twins. My mother was again, so supportive of me. I told her that Bruce was willing to let me handle all of the adoption and he would do whatever it took to support me. She was beginning to see that we were really in love with each other and she was impressed that he did not fly the coup when he heard the word "pregnant". She could see that he was a gentleman and wanted to take care of me the best he could. She was proud of him for making the decision with me, and even prouder that he in no way treated me any differently because I was pregnant. As I prepared to leave for California she started to show signs of stress at the airport. I told her that I was going to be fine, I would be staying with family and if I ever needed her that I would call. She made me promise to call her at least once a day, if not more. She was just wanting to make sure that I had an outlet, that I had support and that I knew that she supported me yet again. I was a little nervous to go to Cali. I knew my cousins there, but I had never really spent any length of time with them. It was always in passing when they came to visit, or at family reunions so the access was limited. Bruce was very sad that I was leaving and he thought that he should be doing more. I told him the best thing he could do for me was to check in with my mom from time to time and make sure she was doing okay. He agreed, although he admitted that he was a little frightened to do so. She was still kinda giving him the cold shoulder.

I fit right in with my cousins and just like they said they would...my mother and Bruce called every single day to check on how I was doing. I was loving the beauty of California and also loving the time away to really access what I needed to do to prepare my mind and soul for the second adoption. The morning I went into labor I tried desperately to get a hold of Bruce to tell him it was time. I was too late, he had already left for work and this was before cell phones and pagers. He would not be able to get to Cali in time for the birth, so I told my mother to just get on a plane in the morning and come to Cali without Bruce. He did not seem to mind, I think he was nervous about the whole thing. He knew what I had been through with my daughter and he was worried about how I would handle this adoption. The twins were born in the evening with no epidural, no drugs, it was an all natural delivery as per my doctor's orders. They were healthy and good sized, breathing well and quite long for twins. Their parents were right there in the room with me to witness their boys coming into the world. That was so wonderful for me to see. (For the full story please see Happy Thoughts #3 on this blog). I was so relaxed compared to the Missouri adoption. I felt like it was a completely different world there.

When I woke up the next day, sitting there next to me with a smile on her face was my mother. I looked at her, and I began to cry. She held me and sat with me for most of the morning. When they brought the babies in, she was a puddle of mush. She cooed and sang little songs. She took endless pictures and told me how handsome they were. She met the parents and told them that they did not ever need to worry about her daughter changing her mind, she reassured them that I was a very strong woman. We spent our time with the babies until they were released to go home. We said our goodbyes, hugged them one last time and told the parents to make sure to tell them just how much they were thought of and loved from afar. With joy in their hearts, they agreed to keep in touch as much as they could. Then we watched as the twins left to begin their new lives.


After the births, my family could tell that I need a pick me up and they decided a nice get away up North would do the trick. We traveled up the Pacific Coast Highway and what a beautiful drive it was. I had never seen such amazing landscape before. Beautiful green mountains on my right, aqua blue and emerald green ocean to my left topped off with just gorgeous sunsets. We traveled far enough to see Monterey and Carmel and I just could not believe that I was still in the United States! The scenery was brilliant, and it did take my mind off of the heartache that lied beneath my bright smile. It was in that trip that my mother did everything to make me laugh and forget my worries. My very favorite story about my mom happened on that trip. We spent the night in a cabin in No Cal with no phone, no radio, and horror or horrors...no TV! If there was one thing my mother loved it was her nightly programs. My mom was freaking out, so she fashioned a tin foil antentae hat to try and channel something in her head. Sitting there, with the shiny, mishapen hat on her head, she began staring at the ceiling. Soon she said..."Pat, I would like a T please....okay, I would like to buy a vowel, an A!" She was imagining that she was watching Wheel of Fortune. Just hilarious!!!!

I could not wait to get back home. I was just dying to see Bruce, to hold him, to squeeze him, to tell him how much I missed him. We returned on a Sunday and I knew that he was playing hockey. My mother could tell that I was chomping at the bit to see him so she told me to "go, go see that man of yours." I drove my car to the rink and walked in undetected. I spotted him taking a break and walked up behind him. Our friend was there talking to him and he looked shocked to see me standing there, but the shock soon turned to elation as he said..."Well hello stranger! Great to see you!" Bruce had no idea who R was talking to and he turned around. Our eyes met. He threw off those stinky gloves and grabbed a hold of me and just held me. I did not care that he smelled like the entire locker room of the St. Louis Blues. It was like breathing in freshly blooming jasmine on a warm summer night. I felt safe. I felt loved. I felt like a whole woman again. We stood there for what was like an eternity just embracing each other after such a long absence.We stood back and just gazed at each other, never saying a word. Finally the silence was broken and R said...

"So I guess this means that Bruce is done playing hockey?"

 To which Bruce replied..."You got that right brother. I will see you in a couple of days."

He grabbed his bag and as we were leaving R said, "Well, it's good to have you home Kels. We sure did miss you."

I thanked him and walked arm and arm out of the rink with my loving man. We were ready to start our lives again. And even though we had a rough road ahead of both of us, we were feeling rather optimistic about our future. I think I smiled for the next two days just being at his side. I thought that I loved him before I left. The following year would prove to be filled with more love, learning and laughter. And that is just what the doctor ordered.


Next chapter...I leave home for good and Sande hears words that she has longed to hear for years and years.