Pictured above – Mary Moses celebrated her final day of Chemo this week after a long battle. Ron Moses photo.
Mother is the name for God on the lips and hearts of all children – William Makepeace Thackerayin
By: Ron Moses
Cookeville – My mom, Mary Moses, smiled. The doctors told me they never saw her without a smile. How could that be? There she was in the chemo room of Ascension St. Thomas Cancer Center, and her smile may just have been the brightest it’s ever been.
Was it because this would be the last treatment in her battle with the cancer in her throat?
I have always said my mother was not only the most beautiful person in the world but also the toughest. But isn’t that the way? Mothers are the best of us, showing grace while disciplining with love. They are the shoulder to cry on and the protector making you feel safe no matter your trouble. They are the warm blanket always waiting to wrap you up.
On this Mother’s Day, in honor of my mother, I’m stepping away from the norm to celebrate moms everywhere. I write this as a son to one of the two greatest moms in history and as a husband to the other (I know you disagree, but I am biased). I write this with respect for all single moms out there holding tight and doing everything to make it work and with admiration for the stay-at-home moms molding the future.
I write this for new moms, seasoned moms and GRAND moms. I write this with love.
Thank you, moms, for being there to bandage wounds, dry tears and fill rooms with laughter. Thank you for being the backbone of the household and for always being a phone call away. Oh, and thank you for always having our backs.
The nurse brought attention to the room.
“Attention chemo room,” she said loudly and proudly. “We have a patient taking their last treatment today!”
As my mom lifted the ceremonial cowbell and shook it, the room exploded into cheer (survivors have each other’s back after all), and I saw the room realize what I already understood. My mom is in fact, not only the most beautiful woman in the world, but the toughest too.
On the way home from the hospital I asked her how she was feeling and if she needed anything.
“I need you to take some money,” she said. “You have to take care of my grandkids.”
I refused. She insisted. I said, “I am not taking the money,” and told her if it wasn’t for her neither me nor her grandkids would even be here. She insisted.
It wasn’t easy, but finally, she gave up and put the money away. It was my turn to care of her. It was my turn to show her how important she is. My joy was being there in support and knowing there were years ahead of us in this life together.
It was my turn to bandage wounds.
We said our goodbyes and I drove away. A few miles down the road my phone buzzed. It was Mom.
“Did you find your surprise yet,” she said. I could almost hear her smile through the phone.
“What,” I responded. “What surprise?”
“Look in the visor,” she said, her voice straining from the day and medicine. “I left that money hidden in your visor.”
I protested and told her it was her money. She needed it.
“I just love taking care of my baby,” she said.
Like a warm blanket. I had to smile.
