Shortly before Christmas in the year 2000 – a year that had long since been anticipated by the world, but never did we expect it to bring our small corner of the world to this – my mother invited my sister and I to go with her in search of a wig. The radiation and chemo had finally caught up with her and she had lost most of her hair. This was extremely hard for her as she often would claim that she would love to be bald since her hair never did what she wanted it to do. Clearly, she never meant the words, but suddenly they were true and she was faced with going bald or creating a new look for herself. She went with the wig.

I remember walking into the shop quite clearly. I’m not sure where it was, exactly, but I do know that it was along a path I had traveled many times in my daily life. Funny how you miss things that are under your nose when you are not looking. Mom was in good spirits, but clearly overwhelmed by the task at hand. For some reason, I was fairly useless having convinced myself – stupidly – that the loss of her hair was a really, really big deal signifying the end. My sister was much more positive and soon we were all laughing and joking together as she tried on a multitude of funny colored hats and various hairstyles. Mom was always a comedian and loved to make people laugh. Adding a feathered boa and a hat with a fancy design would send us all into gales of laughter as we each tried on different types of head attire. Soon, she chose the wig that suited her best and we left the shop feeling accomplished. I remember that this all occurred near Christmas as the world was still moving forward with sleigh bells ringing and children singing in most every store. If my mother stood for one thing more than any other it was Christmas. A devout Christian as well as a crazy giver, Christmas existed in my mother’s very soul. She would start to shop and wrap as early as August and the thing my boys remember most about their grandmother was how warm and welcoming Christmas in her home always was – she was big on gobs of gifts which certainly helped her cause with my very young boys.

Enter her home at any time during the holidays and you had a choice of a multitude of cookies, Christmas decorations or crafts and the option of nearly any Christmas classic movie at your fingertips. My boys adored visiting grandma all year round, but Christmas is firmly planted in their minds as the best holiday on earth ! This year would be no different. Mom always hosted Christmas Eve, but I, in my silliness, thought it would be good for her to pass the torch to me to save her the trouble. What was I thinking!!!???? Somewhere in the back of her niggling mind that didn’t always fire properly I think she truly understood that this was likely her last Christmas, and darn if it wasn’t going to be the BEST CHRISTMAS EVER!!!! She cooked, she baked, she shopped, she wrapped, she called often to ask for a ride or another idea as she needed the boys stacks to be even when the big day arrived. She was a woman on a mission and she was oh so very happy.

Christmas Eve rolled around – as time has a unique ability to move forward no matter your situation – and mom was ready. We had a lovely meal at her home, the gifts rocked and she was happier than I had seen her in months, but what I will always remember most about that evening was the small package she wrapped for my daughter and left in my car. It was a piece of jewelry that I had given her when I was engaged that she had worn every day of her life. She had carefully removed it from her neck and left it in a box for my daughter to receive on her 16th birthday. I still hold this box in my possession.

I also remember my then 7 year-old son Adam standing at mom’s elbow at the table showing her one of his many treasures and asking her many questions. Always deeply intuitive and deeply connected to his grandmother, Adam, too, knew that time was short. I have a picture of the two of them on that evening that I will treasure forever. My mom’s death changed Adam in ways I cannot explain. A most successful young man today, Adam and my mom will be forever soul connected and their stories will remain intertwined forever. Even if my mother is not physically here, she is always showing up in Adam’s path and he still holds a deep bond with the woman he loved for such a short time. The best example of this is the $5 bills that regularly turn up in parking lots and on paths when he or I are missing her most. At first it was silly, but now every time another one turns up, we know grandma is hanging around for the track meet or the graduation after all and we all smile.