Today is the first Mother's Day since Mom passed away last July. There have been moments when I felt overwhelmed with loss, and moments when I have been equally overwhelmed with joy at the good memories.
Mom was known by different names at different places in her life. In her professional life as a nurse, she was Alice. In our home where she was wife and mother, she was Faye. In the home she grew up in, where she was daughter and sister, she was Alice Faye. No matter where she was and what she was called, she was the same person to the world that she was to herself. That is as good a definition of integrity as any I've ever heard.
She lived a life of kindness, of service, and of pain.
Yes, pain. She survived two bouts of breast cancer, and lived for 22 years with lupus. Her body attacked itself in so many ways, but she didn't complain. She worked, always, until she simply couldn't go. Then, she'd rest, and as soon as she could, she'd go again.
She had a wicked sense of humor -- she did call me a tailhole once, when one of my absurd jokes or bad puns or mistimed cracks got on her last nerve -- and one of the strongest senses of right and wrong I have ever witnessed.
I am, in short, in awe of Alice Faye Elixson White. I miss her everyday...but I have not mourned her nearly as much as I have my Dad. My wife Lisa has suggested that Mom and I knew each other and had no unfinished business between us. I am at peace with that lovely notion.
I love you, Mom, and I look forward to seeing you again. Happy Mother's Day.
