Saturday, June 21st, 1997.
A day forever etched in my memory.
I remember that day as vividly as if it happened today. I got the phone call early in the morning
that my mom had died. Most days I can't
tell you what I ate for lunch, what I did, or anything. That day, I remember exactly where I was.
It was a warm Saturday morning and my in-laws were visiting
from Mississippi for the very first time (James and I had gotten married in
March of 1996). It was their first trip
to our house and I was nervous about their visiting for the first time. We had many things planned for the week, none
of which included them staying behind while my husband and I went home to bury
my mama.
It was about 8:30 in the morning and the phone rang. A phone call early in the morning is usually
never good news and this morning was no exception.
"Hello."
"Jari," she said, "I have some not so very
good news to tell you." It was my
sister-in-law Gloria.
I didn't know what to say and so she continued, "Your
mom didn't wake up this morning and when your dad went down to check on her,
she had passed away. The paramedics came
but there was nothing they could do."
I said through my tears, "Why didn't they try to
revive her?"
She replied, "Jari, she was gone. There was nothing they could do."
Words failed me and finally I said, "We'll be on our
way home soon."
She said, "Give us a call when you're on the
road."
I hung up the phone, sat down in the chair, and literally
crumbled. By that time I was sobbing,
and my mother and father-in-law were standing over me trying to get out of me
what had happened. My husband was in the
bathroom, and I remember my father-in-law beating on the bathroom door yelling,
"You need to get out here.
Something has happened."
My husband came out and he too was standing over me trying
to make sense of the hysterical person sitting before him. My in-laws had picked up enough information
from the phone conversation to know that someone had died; they just didn't
know who. My husband finally said,
"Is it your dad?"
I was able to shake my head, "No."
In shock, he asked, "Your mom?"
I shook my head, "Yes."
You see, my dad was always the one with the heart
conditions, kidney stones, and various other ailments. My mom was the pillar of our family, the matriarch. She was very much a "take charge"
kind of person, and she was the glue that held us all together.
Helen Bell Battin stood all of 5 foot 3 or 4inches tall,
just a little thing in stature. But, oh was she mighty. She commanded respect when she entered the
room. When she spoke, everyone stopped
and listened. She was the best mother in
the world and an even better grandma (or so my nieces and nephews will tell
you), and loved by all. She had a heart
that was generous enough for everyone who crossed her path. One of the best cooks in the world, she did
not use a recipe often, and if she did, she never followed it completely. An immaculate housekeeper, she loved to
clean. It was often said that she could
clean circles around her daughters and daughter-in-laws. Her hands were always busy with works of
"love": a hand embroidered
shirt, a hand embroidered Christmas stocking, tattered jean repair, or a
quilt. No matter what she was doing,
she was NEVER too busy if you needed her.
She taught me the value of hard work and determination. Her family was important to her, and she
never failed to show that.
She could NEVER be gone.
She was the single most important person in my life who saw through my
faults and flaws and still loved me unconditionally anyway. She was my cheerleader, my rock, my biggest
fan, my strength, my encourager, my protector, and the first person I called
for any
reason or no reason at all.
But she WAS
gone, and I never got to say goodbye.
Unfortunately, I was supposed to go home when school was out, but
I had a class coming up so rather than making the 4 1/2 - 5 hour drive to see
her then, I thought I would wait until my class was over and go see her in
July. I never got that chance.
June 20, 1997, was my mother's 78th birthday. I didn't call her that day. I knew she would understand. I was baking and getting ready for my in-laws
to arrive that evening. My mom went to
work at the Variety Haus just as she had every day for the last several years. She knew my in-laws were coming because she
had asked me every Sunday afternoon for the past month when she called,
"Now, when is it that your in-laws are coming?" And every time, I would say, "Friday,
June 20th, at 6:30 PM." She knew we
would be headed to the airport and then to eat dinner and it would be late when
we got home. I had planned to call her
on Saturday.
And now it was Saturday, and I would never get a chance to
call her because she WAS gone.
How did this happen?
She went to bed and died in her sleep.
It's a tough thing to deal with when you are the one left behind.
Do our loved ones have a premonition about death? I believe they do. You see, my husband worked weekends and had
my in-laws not been there, every other Saturday of my life I would have been
there by myself. My mom called me like
clockwork every Sunday afternoon. And
for several weeks, she had been asking me when my in-laws were coming and if my
husband was taking off and would be home.
And I kept telling her to the point that I began to think she was crazy
and getting very forgetful. Crazy and
forgetful it was not, but she was making sure I wasn't home alone when I got
the news. A mother's unconditional love
to the very end.
There is a myriad of emotions that you experience with the
loss of someone you love, and while I lived with the guilt for a while, the
reality of it is that I know she knew I loved her and I certainly knew she
loved me. Life is full of unknowns, and we
never know when it might be the last time we get to see someone. Do not put off until tomorrow what you can do
today, especially when it comes to the relationships in your life. Live life to the fullest and tell those that
are important to you that you love them every chance you can.
