It had been over a year since I saw her last when I drove to Eau Claire to pick her up. Her friend had agreed to meet me half way and I happily agreed, it saved me three hours on the road. We had talked at length prior to her visit about what we expected and didn’t expect from her visit. In the previous months our relationship had been on the rocks. Her addictions and a series of self-destructive choices had kept my contact with her at arm’s length. I couldn’t afford to toxify the waters of my family anymore. It was too difficult to balance the teeter-totter of struggles that we were going through as a young family. It became impossible. She knew this and understood, it didn’t make it any easier.
We never lost touch, we always corresponded and had the occasional phone conversation. She would share the milestones toward sobriety with me and the things that filled her life in La Crosse. She volunteered, painted, wrote poetry, cooked and always was creating. She told me about her friends and her neighbors. Leading up to her visit we talked about how wonderful it will be for her to meet our babies and for all of us (me, my sister & brother) to get together for dinner. We knew it would be somewhat tense, but looked forward to the opportunity for all of us to be together.
We finally got the dates pinned down and solidified our plans. I purposefully didn’t plan any big ‘touring’ days or events for during her stay. I didn’t want to be disappointed if things fell through. We kept our agenda light and would take in the simple moments of family life. I would pick her up on Tuesday, she would stay 3 full days and I would drive her back to Eau Claire on Friday. I got to Eau Claire at 11:30am on July 20, 2010 to pick her up. The first moments were awkward, how could they not be? We hadn’t seen each other face to face in over a year and so much emotional stress and mess had spattered the last calendar year. But, there we were- we made it. She still looked like my Mom, though this time it seemed the years past were more evident on her face. Her pretty eyes and radiant smile still shone through her aging exterior. She walked with a slight limp from a bad fall she had taken the year before, but it was her- it was my Mom.
We met my sister Jennie for a nice lunch. The conversation was light, but it was a nice ice breaker before hopping in the car and driving back home. Over the next few days, we didn’t do anything extravagant or crazy. The first few days we hung around the house and played outside with the kids. Mom learned about our kids and much about our demanding daily life with infant Owen plus two toddlers. When the kids went to bed we sat and watched TV together. On Wednesday we had our family get-together for dinner with Jen & Matt’s families. There were tense moments and some underhanded remarks, but it wouldn’t be a family reunion without those elements. Despite the tension it was nice for all of us to be together. 
We visited the farmers market on that Thursday night. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, but Mom got the kids a little alligator shaped crayon holder. It was nice and reminded me of the one we had as kids. We had the ‘fair’ type food and giant cookies and came home. It’s a nice memory. The next morning we got things ready and loaded up for her trip back to La Crosse. We snapped a few photos of her with the kids, her grandkids, for her to share with her friends. With a tearful hug, I said goodbye to her.
Over the next days Shelby and I talked a lot about the ‘feeling’ we got from Mom’s visit. I felt like she was trying, like she was changing in a positive way. For the next couple weeks I talked with Mom a couple times a week to get a feel of how she was doing post family visit. She continued to celebrate and talk about how her program was going and how well she was doing in her recovery. Shelby and I both knew that reconnecting with her family and being in a supportive environment was going to be a cornerstone of her recovery. To stay sober, she needed family. What/Who are we if we don’t have a ‘family’? Shelby and I knew the answer to this question all too well; we wouldn’t have otherwise survived the last few years without the strong support of our close family. Shelby and I wanted to give her the opportunity to reconnect with our family and complete her recovery- we offered for her to move in with us as a stepping stone to relocate herself closer to us. I can still here the happiness in her voice when I called and asked her. She was so excited, she told me she never thought she would have that again- family. She was going to do everything she could to make the move. She had loose ends to tie up in La Crosse- she had to finish her program in La Crosse county, inform the proper people and transfer some other obligations to Barron County- but we were going to make it work.
Over the next few weeks we would touch base with each other on Facebook, phone and email to find out how things were going and how much longer we would have to wait. We finally got word that things would be ready sometime in the beginning of November for her to make a move. It was nice, to have my Mom back. To feel like we were connecting, to know I had a Mom; my kids had a Grandma, to have somebody to talk about what I made for dinner, to swap recipes and kitchen tricks with. Mostly, to have a Mom. To have the Mom that had been missing for the greater part of my teen years and for the larger part of the past few years. …and then things went quiet. I hadn’t heard from her in a couple days and her friend in La Crosse called me to tell me that she had missed her last meeting. The honeymoon was over. I didn’t need the confirmation from the police, I already knew she was gone. God had given me those last moments. We had our moment, our last hurrah. Loss is not without lesson. I’ve learned more than I can write from my Mom- some great lessons and some lessons better to experience from afar. She taught me how to cook, how to enjoy cooking, how to paint, how to sew, how to nurture my own creativity. She taught me about music and how to enjoy the little thing in life. I’ve learned to take greater care to live in the moment and enjoy those little things. Life is short, sometimes much shorter than you planned for…
