Friday, May 15, 2020
MY MAMA SONJA We refer to someone as a “cancer survivor” because they are alive, and in remission. I think of my mother, Sonja, as a cancer survivor not because she still lives (though she does, in my heart) but because she never gave in to cancer. Because she always fought, and kept living – and living fully – for as long as she possibly could. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I suppose I’m stating the obvious when I say that I deeply miss my mother, will always miss her, and that she was a special and remarkable woman who will stay with us always. I keep recalling a visit a couple months back with one of Mama’s friends. We all met for a smoothie. It was about a 40-minute drive, which Mama had initially planned to do on her own. I joined partially because I wanted to, but also partially because this seemed quite a jaunt with her (physical) limitations… I needn’t have worried. Halfway there, Mama got a call from another friend, with whom she hadn’t spoken in awhile, and who was having a difficult time. She took it on speaker-phone so she could keep driving. She was excited to chat. So here she is, my mother, with Stage 4 cancer and all these physical difficulties, driving along and advising her friend. Saying it’s more important to her to hear what’s up with her friend’s life and health than to talk about her own life. Expressing concern for her friend’s health and living situation. Positing ideas to help her friend continue working on things she enjoys and that offer her freedom and flexibility (in her current situation). “Look,” Mama says to her friend, “I could literally spend the whole day in bed if I wanted. But I can’t allow myself to do that. I’m not dead yet. And as long as I’m here, I’m going to keep doing the things that matter to me.” A minute later, we walk into the smoothie restaurant. A little later on, as we enjoyed our smoothie with another friend, Mama talked energetically about how meetings like this kept her going, about training the next generation to carry on the work of social justice, about connecting her 2 friends with each other. It was a lovely afternoon, and I’m so thankful to have joined in. My mother was a great friend… Both to me and to her own friends and community. She operated from a place of positivity, of exploring and learning to find one’s own gifts, of valuing everybody. And that, perhaps, was one of her greatest gifts… developing others. (Or rather, helping others to develop themselves. Giving them confidence.) There is so much that I’ve learned from my mother – from Mama Sonja. A few things stand out to me right now:
We miss you, Mama. We love you. We always will. And we are so blessed that – for 70 years – you were here with us. We know you still are. Love, Thaytia |