My mom is Carol. She was diagnosed with MS when she was 24 years old. She campaigned for awareness and to raise support and funds to research the cause and find a cure. Through all of this she was also raising a family. Myself and my brother Chris. She would sit outside stores selling carnations to those who were willing to help. She and my dad helped run bingos to raise money as well. When I was in elementary school every year they had the MS read-a-thon so I got on the bandwagon and did my part to help raise awareness. I was always one of the top money makers for my school and when my brother was able to do the read-a-thon he was also.
Through the years my mom did amazing things. Unfortunately my mom's MS was progressive (it never went into remission.) Finally when I was 11 years old she was admitted into the nursing home portion of St. Joseph's Health Center, because we couldn't care for her at home the way she needed. There, she became an advocate for patient rights, in the hospital. She rallied for those who did not have a voice. She loved swimming in the pool there, it was the only place where she had some control over her body. She also helped in the recreation dept. being the caller for their bingos. She always made it fun for everyone. From her B-FORE to her I'm 18 and I like it. She was always finding the funny in everything. She had so much to give in her character.
She had so much hope, I remember one day she called me at my house and was telling me when she got out of the hospital and had her own place that she was going to get her license and a car and drive. It took everything in my not to laugh when I was on the phone, because she had told me a couple of months earlier that they had taken her electric wheelchair away from her because she was running into things like walls and people and doors. Even though she had very little movement on her own she still did things, she went to concerts, movies, museums and her favorite place was the mall or bingo.
While in the hospital she went through a divorce from my dad, the death of her father and favorite cousin Pam. Those 2 deaths were the hardest on her. Pam was her best friend and they were more like sisters then cousins and she was always daddies little girl. No matter how old you are when your parent dies it is one of the hardest things you will have to face as an adult.
Her favorite holiday was Christmas because that was when she got to come home for a few days and spend some time with her family. She always looked forward to that. It was always the happiest I would see her.
Christmas 1999 our last one together.
All that changed when she was told she had cancer in October of 2000. She still had hope for a cure for that and went in for tests to see how they could get it out, but all that died when they said there was nothing they could do because of her MS because that was affecting her breathing. My beautiful mother was dying and there was nothing anyone could do to help her. I had never seen her in such a state as she was, depressed, upset and would cry easily. My mom who had been so strong for so long was being beaten by her own body. It was hard to watch and, eventually her body turned yellow with jaundice, another sign that her body was working against her. Christmas that year was really hard. For the first time since she had gone into the hospital she was too sick to come home for Christmas. She was heartbroken and seriously pissed off. When I went in to see her the first words out of her mouth that I could understand in a long time were "I'm Mad!" It was a nice Christmas but not perfect. We all missed her being there and it just wasn't the same.
January 15th 2001 I got a call from her nurse, saying that she was going into a semi-coma. My Grandmother and I went up to the hospital and while we were there she made sure that we knew she was still there. The next day however was not as noticeable, as I was hugging her and kissing her forehead I told her "It's okay to go mom we will be okay, Grandpa is waiting for you. I love you." We left that night. The next morning around 6 am the phone rang. It was my mom's nurse telling me she was gone. "What time?" I remembered asking being numb. "around 5:45." I thanked her and went to call my family and let them know what was going on. January 17th 2001. I was 24, she was 48. That is a day I don't want to remember, or go through again.
I miss my mom so much it makes me sad that my kids don't know her, but I know through the restored gospel that they will, through the promises that were given to us through our prophet's that were called to serve on the earth. I am thankful everyday for the gospel and the role it has played in my life. I know it has saved my life more then once. I know that it will happen again and again. I see all the blessings in my life and this is one of them. In the name of Jesus Christ amen.
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