One of the greatest blessings in my life was the special bond I shared with my mom.
My older brother used to tell me I couldn't even formulate an opinion without consulting her first. He would ask me something simple—like, what was my favorite color? I'd ask my mom what her favorite color was. “Green,” she'd answer.
“Green,” I'd tell Jeff.
It exasperated him. "Why can't you come up with anything on your own?”
"That is what I came up with on my own!" I'd answer indignantly and turn to my mom, “Huh Mumma?”
My life became a series of “Huh Mumma’s?” I never stopped seeking her affirmation.
Today is Brett’s 15th birthday. His first birthday without my mom. I know if she was here, we would rehash some of the funny stories, ruminate about the positive impact “The Baby” has had on our lives. She never once called him Brett, always The Baby.
It was only because of a heart-wrenching chain of losses that my mom was living with us when Brett was born. Oh, how thankful I was to have her by my side every day!
All those days of carefully measuring and re-measuring Brett’s ever growing head, not wanting to believe the horrifying numbers. The days and nights of trying to get him to drink one ounce of formula on the hour, every hour. The seemingly impossible job of trying to keep the oxygen cannula lined up with his tiny nostrils.
When we brought Brett home they provided us with a "mother tank" of oxygen that had a 50 foot long cord allowing us to walk around the house with him. Anytime we'd pick him up we'd pull on the cord several times, ensuring we had enough slack to keep the cord from pulling against his face.
Several days after he was no longer on the oxygen, I watched my mom pick him up and then "pull" on an imaginary oxygen cord. It was hilarious to watch because I found myself doing the same thing. We both had gotten so used to the cord that long after it was gone we were still “pulling” air. It was hysterical. I’m sure if I were to see her today, I could reenact it and we’d laugh just as hard now as we did then.
The Baby, who is fifteen years old today, is still like a baby—a giant, content baby.
Today, I’m thanking God for allowing my mom to be here in Michigan…from the day Brett took his first breath fifteen years ago to the day she took her last.
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