Unveiling The Mystery
A Mother’s Message From The Afterlife
In a job interview once, I was asked, “Who’s your hero?” It seemed like an odd question at the time, but I had no hesitation in answering, “My mom.”
Like most people, I grew up in a very dysfunctional family. My life could easily be made into a movie! But that’s another story. One thing that I did have, was a loving mother.
My mom was my hero throughout my whole life. She was always there to catch me when I fell, to nurse me when I was hurt, and to encourage me when I tried something new. She believed in me even when I didn’t believe in myself.
When I’d call her and say that I got the job, or achieved some goal I’d been working on, she’d reply with, “I never doubted you’d get it.”
She had mountain-moving faith in me, and she loved me unconditionally.
When she was 72 years old, she started having a lot of pain. I took her to the ER. They sent her home saying it was the flu that had settled in her back.
A few days later, her pain was worse. I took her back to the ER. They recommended she go to a pain management clinic.
I called my sister in Arizona and told her something was wrong with mom. She flew home the next day and took Mom for her third visit to the ER. This time, the doctor said, “Something’s going on here. Let’s admit you and run some tests.” Finally!
A day later, on mom’s 73rd birthday, the doctor called me and my brothers and sister and told us to meet her in mom’s room at the hospital. I knew this couldn’t be good.
We stood around Mom in her bed as the doctor explained, “Your mother has an inoperable brain tumor.”
My mother drew a hand across her forehead and said, with a smile, “Whew!”
I looked at her in disbelief and said, “Mom, did you hear what the doctor just said?”
My mother, in her infinite wisdom, said, “Yes, I thought I had Alzheimer's!”
As it turned out, my mother had cancer through her whole body. There was nothing they could do. That was on February 3. On March 13, she passed away.
My hero was gone.
Life goes on.
On August 23rd of that year, I was in the grocery store doing some shopping when my cell phone rang. It was an unknown number, which I don’t usually answer, but this time I did.
“Hello, this is Babbette Munting.” The woman on the other end of the line said. “I was your mom’s doctor.”
Of course, I’d heard Mom rave about Babbette for a decade or more. She loved her doctor. But how did Babette know me?
“I don’t know why I’m calling you today,” Babbette said. “But I’ve been thinking about your mom all day and I felt I had to call you.”
Tears welled up in my eyes. I replied, “My mom would have called me today. It’s my birthday.”
Babbette wished me a happy birthday, and she has called me every year since to wish me a happy birthday. It’s been over ten years since Mom passed, and Babbette still calls me to reminisce about my mom, and how she was a hero to both of us.
I would love to hear from you. Who’s your hero?
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Your friend, fellow writer, and lover of all things magical,
Sherry Briscoe
Reader, Writer, Wordsmith Advisor — navigating the universe of fiction and fantasy, sharing words of wisdom and inspiration. Send coffee.
