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I lost my mother this weekend.

Brisketexan

By Brisketexan
in Daily Texan

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Brisketexan

Brisketexan 105143

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She died on Saturday.  I was the last one to hold her.  There is blood on my shirt from some of her last breaths.  She cradled me in her arms the moment after I came into this world, and I realized that I was the last to carry her as she prepared to leave it.  Before she was even taken from the house, through tears, I confessed that realization with my father, and he shared that as of late, he had been thinking of a line from one of his favorite songs by Jose Alfredo – “La vida empieza lorrando, y asi llorando acaba.”  Roughly translated, life begins with crying, and so it ends with crying.  Es la verdad.

It came faster than we expected, and she was in distress near the end, but we did all we could, and when the fine men and women of AFD and Austin EMS arrived and got her breathing stabilized, her body could rest.  And then, shortly thereafter, her soul joined it, and she was gone.  Nothing but praise for the kindness and sensitivity shown by AFD and EMS.  They were everything you would hope for.  She passed away on a gurney, but they carefully brought her back inside, and laid her back on her bed.  The entire crew stood solemnly with us in our grief.  They bowed their heads and were silent.  We were embraced by strangers in our loss, if but for a moment.  But the moment mattered.

After she was gone, and everyone had departed the scene, I went outside to talk to her friends, who had gathered.  I told them of her passing, and their response was perfect in two parts: “She was a good woman . . . and a kick in the ass.”

She was born in New Orleans spitting-distance from the Mississippi, met her life-long love on the north bank of the Rio Grande, and lived her life at points between, almost all along the Gulf Coast.  She was a daughter of hurricane country, and she had a Category 5 personality to go with it.  Her early years were so hard.  Because people can be hard, and cruel.  Her early family life was a nightmare.  But that gave her a vision of what she wanted, a vision of a life with safety, security, and family.  To the child, it was a dream that gave her hope.  To the woman she became, it was a glorious reality.  She gave me a home where I wanted for nothing, where I never feared for my safety or security.  And she gave that freely to everyone who passed through her door.  She was a second mother to so many of my friends.

When I came along, my parents didn’t have a pot to piss in, living in a little apartment off of Woodway in Houston.  But there they would sit, on the furniture they had bought from a motel close-out auction, reveling in the wealth that mattered, the wealth of their family, telling each other “somos millionarios.”  And she believed it, because she had a family, a roof, and unconditional love to give and receive.

That feeling remained her one true treasure.  As I grew up, our home was a refuge, security, a warm embrace and mothering for my friends, and whoever else walked through our door.  She was a mother to the world, and in turn, a grandmother to the world.  When we began sharing the news of her death, we got tearful calls from Mexico, Argentina, Norway, and dozens of other places full of people she loved, and who loved her dearly in return. Even we had no idea of the breadth and depth of her reach.

She was no delicate flower.  The lung cancer that eventually got her came from a lifetime of a cigarette flapping between her lips as she told anyone who needed to hear it to kiss her ass.  She was a child of Louisiana and Texas oilfield trash, and it still showed.  She could pull off elegant, and she appreciated the finer things…..but she’d call you some shit that you can only imagine in your darkest dreams if you got on her bad side.  She clocked the hell out of a snatch-and-grab robber in Buenos Aires as he tried to take my old man’s watch; she had a heavy wooden box in a shopping bag, swung it over her head to clock the guy on the top of his dome, at the same time that she took her cigarette and burned his arm.  He sprinted back to his accomplice’s motorbike and GTFO of there.  We are positive that when he returned to his lair with his amigos, they gave him a world of shit.

There’s no good time to lose your mother.  But in retrospect, I’m grateful for so many things.  I’m grateful that we had gotten her onboarded to hospice just two days before she died, so her death was an at-home death under hospice care, which is much easier for all.  I’m grateful that just over a month ago, before her health took its precipitous decline, I got a wild hair in my ass to have an oyster shucking and grilling session, followed immediately by a crawfish boil  Oysters and crawfish were two of her favorite things.  As we prepped dozens of oysters, I called her and my dad and told them to hustle on over (they were planning on the crawfish boil later, but I hadn’t told her about the oysters because I didn’t know how her strength would be).  She got here lickety split.  She stood next to us while we shucked and shot the bullshit, slurping fresh oysters as we handed them to her.  Then she went in and sat down, where we brought her a half dozen grilled.  She wasn’t eating a lot by this stage of her illness, but she ATE.  Then she went home to rest a bit, and came back for crawfish.  We sat at long tables, and she held court surrounded by joy and friendship.  And as we told stories, she chipped in with a horrifically perfect, totally NSFW, pure-dee S. Texas off-color observation that had all of us howling, including @Pescado_Rojo and @Kyrie Eleison (pescado’s teen son just lowered his head and grinned).  I was mildly mortified.  They damn near pissed themselves.  She was in her element.

But one of the most important things was something Pescado just shared with me the other day – as he was leaving with his son that evening, my mom pulled him aside and told him “you’re raising a fine young man.”  Which is true.  She was so proud of all of my friends, and loved them as if they were her own kin.  Because that’s how she rolled.

So, I wake up for the first time in a world without my mother.  As we all will someday, if the order of things stays as we would hope.  And my father wakes up alone for the first time in over half a century.  And we will move forward, with those who matter.  My mother spun threads that stretched far and wide, and can never be cut.  They can only be tied together into the tapestry in which we all live together.  And those of us who knew her and were touched by her love, nurturing, and strength, can genuinely say “somos millionarios.”

Soy millionario.

Edited by Brisketexan
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Rip76

Rip76 4928

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Sorry to hear about this BT.  Our stories are very similar especially our mother’s upbringing, Louisiana and lung cancer.

It is a very tough thing to go through, and when the family and friends leave, just think about all of the good things, and the fact that she is at peace.

I’m quite sure she felt safe with you there.

Peaceful thoughts for you guys.

 

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tigol

tigol 2398

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Beautiful tribute to your Mom.  I have gotten to know you and your family over the years on these boards.  I have always admired your perspective, thoughtful words, faith, and family commitment.  

I am so sorry for your loss.

 

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CHIEF

CHIEF 5089

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She loved you, more than you will ever know. She is the biggest influence on your life. Dads are wonderful. But very seldom is a man blessed with a Mother such as you have. We have known each other for decades, you are one of the few people that talks as fondly of their Mother as I do, she was a great lady and God is lucky to add her to his Heavenly Kingdom. You will see her again one day, I know it in my heart, and I know to in my soul. You and your family are in our thoughts and prayers, and especially your Father. May this chapter in your life grow your faith, and your family's faith. Viva Romans VIII.

CHIEF

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williemackgarza

williemackgarza 1826

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Chigow. Man, im in tears. Brought back lots of great memories. Lost mi madre 4 years ago. She was just like you describe of yours, a second mom to all my friends. She was a pistol and wouldnt hesitate to let anyone have it, verbal or physical.
Sorry for your loss amigo.
She sounded like a hoot to be around. God bless your family.
RIP Doña Brisket

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Longhornstampede

Longhornstampede 3182

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Brisket that was a touching tribute to your mom. It was beautiful in the love I could tell you and everyone has for her and in turn her for everyone else. I lost my mom 3 years ago and I have very similar feelings.

It comforted me know she had lived a full and loving life and those around her were better for her being on this earth.

I say celebrate her time with y'all and only shed a year of joy for her life despite the sadness you feel. She sounds like one hell of a lady and a mother.

RIP Mama Brisket

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