A Mom Beyond Compare!

In describing someone, it was once said that someone like that "rarely" came along............

Well, this story is about a gentle, kind and loving soul who DID come along. She was the jewel of my eye and the beating of my heart. She was a person who had a heart that was bigger that all of the 50 states combined. She was my first friend. She was my Mom.

Since January 10, 2015, I had to start talking about her in the past tense because her earthly existence was shortened by cancer. She was merely 84 years old. To some, she lived a long time. To me, however, she died way too young. At the time of her death, she was about to enter into a new phase of her life. She was beginning to see great grandchildren. Shortly before her death, she became a widow. It was at that point that I not only saw her usual soft side, but I also saw her vulnerable side as she began the mourning process for the only man she ever loved- my Dad.

For me, it started back in 1956, the year i was born. We lived in an apartment in the Riverside section of Manhattan, New York. At the time, it was Mom, Dad, my maternal grandmother and itsy, bitsy me, the newborn. According to Mom, my Grandma found me to be cute but a bit of a handful. I'm sure i was, but Mom did not care. She loved me because I was her firstborn. Even today, I have faint although existent memories of that apartment. I even told Mom a few years before her death that I wanted to take her there just to pass by the place and recall our memories. Unfortunately, I fell victim to the disease called procrastination. Making that return trip is still on my agenda and I will make it all while believing that Mom is riding in the car with me.

We moved to Queens, New York in 1958, shortly after my Grandma died. I had no concept of what death was at the time, but I was extremely aware that it meant that I would never see my Grandma ever again. Even to this day, I still do not have any idea of how her remains were disposed, but due to my procrastination, I never asked.

Mom attended Columbia University and pursued a Masters degree in Nursing. She was proud to be a nurse because helping others was in her blood, no pun intended. She was very outgoing and very helpful to not just our immediate family, but to those outside of our family as well. She went all out to help those in need and, even in her final days, she never stopped even as the cancer inside ravaged her very frail body. Mom was a trooper.

When I started Kindergarten i 1961, she would come up every day to see that I was in good hands. I attended a Catholic elementary school called St. Catherine of Sienna in St. Albans, New York. It was a nice place and extremely huge. We were Catholic. So, it made sense to not only have me go to school there, but to also worship there as well. When Mom started taking us to the church to attend Mass, she also made fast friends and even joined a church sorority called the Rosary Society and another church group called the Bowling Club where they obviously bowled every Thursday night.

Because she was so active in my school life and became very well-known among the other parishioners, she was able to help me with my schoolwork. She was also very friendly with my teachers especially my favorite teacher of all time, Mrs. Elanor Fryer, a lady who clearly came up from somewhere in the southern states who made herself at home here in New York City.

At some point in my early life, I begged my parents to give me some siblings. Little did I know what was involved with that request. Mom must not have been able to have anymore children at some point. Mom was friendly with another lady in the school whose child was also a classmate of mine. She put my parents in touch with the Spence-Chapin Adoption Agency in the city. I honestly don't know what they had to do or how long it went or even if lawyers were involved. All I knew one day when I was dismissed for the day in fourth grade, I had a beautiful baby sister named Janet. Mom and Dad did not really like the name and had it changed to Janice instead. Either way, I was happy because I had a baby sister.

Shortly after we welcomed Janice into our home, the surprise did not stop there because we were also blessed with another child name Eric. He, however, was a bit of a problem for us. He was even a challenge for Mom and dad as well because of his emotional problems. Mom took the time and patience to work with him. One day, he pushed my parents to the edge when he looked at my sister and scratched her to the point where she started bleeding. That was the final straw! Mom and Dad agreed that he had to be returned to the agency in exchange for another child. Honestly, I was sad to see him go because I always wanted a baby brother as well. My sadness, however, was short-lived. Mom and dad introduced me to my new little brother. His name was Arthur. Our little family was now complete.

Since Janice arrived, Mom had given up nursing to pursue other activities now that she had a little family to help support. Dad was busy working and doing whatever he could to keep the house functional. Mom, took care of the other activities like the cooking, cleaning and her three little ones as well. Whatever we liked, she liked. She served as a den mother for my Cub Scout Pack #381. She attended all of our school functions. When I joined my church's altar servers, she was there for every Mass that I served. She did the same for my brother and sister. She never complained of being tired or having enough time. If the clock only had 24 hours on it, she made sure that it had 25 hours on it instead. She always made the time for us.

Mom was our guide and inspiration. We made sure to show her our great love in return. I can remember all of the birthday parties and cakes that we used to get in order to surprise her. On Christmas, we made sure that she and dad opened their gifts first before we opened ours. We remembered their anniversaries every march. We enjoyed our Thanksgiving dinners together and, of course, there was Halloween. The same spirit that Mom shared with us was the same spirit she had at Halloween. She and Dad got so much joy from not only helping us, but to put many smiles on the faces of many children who rang our doorbell seeking Halloween candy. I remember many times when she would fake a scare when she saw a few costumes and how the children went home after happily achieving their goal of obtaining more candy. Halloween was a rousing success at our house.

I think back to a day shortly after I learned how to drive. Mom volunteered to help out at our church's homeless shelter. It was just a time to allow homeless men to spent one designated night in our church basement. The church supplied the shelter and the food for them to eat. All Mom had to do was heat up their meals and serve it to them. All I had to do was to watch. And I did. I watched how she moved about tending to their needs. She gave them blankets, made sure that their cots were okay and, when it was time for their meals, that they not only had enough food, but enjoyed the meal as well. She was, in some sense, acting as a Mom for all of them. She should know. She was nothing but a great Mom to all.

Mom wanted us to enjoy ourselves even when times were tough. She put on many birthday parties for the three of us. She made sure that we invited who we wanted at our parties. I outgrew the party stage, but I really enjoyed watching my baby brother and baby sister at their parties. It was what Mom knew how to do, but nobody had to teach her how to be a great Mom. She was a natural and she was born with the gift of great motherhood.

In 1985, reality hit me cold, hard in the face. She was stricken with cancer. I had a feeling that her smoking was catching up to her. She had to make that change in her life. So, she gave up smoking shortly before the doctors performed a mastectomy by removing her left breast. Although she was a bit different physically, she was still the same Mom mentally. Even I had to make some changes as well. I decided that, because she had no driver's license or means of driving herself around - never did - I would become her personal chauffeur. When I had a chance, I took her with me. One of our trips was to Atlantic City in my car. This was special to me because it was the first time I took the lady who gave birth to me and pushed me around in a baby carriage when I was younger and drove her on a long trip. Yes, I was now driving my Mom around. She enjoyed the trip.

It was 2005 and the cancer returned. I started thinking that the cancer was now a part of her as she had not smoked since a few weeks before her mastectomy in 1985. I pulled the doctor aside and he informed me that she would be in remission after the operation. She would still have cancer, but the cancer will remain inactive as long as she followed the protocol which included daily visits to the doctor in order to monitor her condition. That was no trouble for me. It was a very small price tag for me to pay the lady who did so many wonderful things for me.

I took Mom on many local trips with me. Sometimes, I would not go anywhere unless she came along. I wanted her to get out of the house from time to time. She was in her late 70's and needed to get out for some air for a while. In between her two operations, Janice died from leukemia back in 1987. Dad had slowed down and retired back in 1991. Mom still had her zest and spirit, but she had also slowed down considerably. It was time for me to step up and help her out.

One of the trips we really enjoyed was when we stopped to eat. I drove us to a McDonalds that was located at Hillside Avenue and Springfield Boulevard. I pulled up to the drive thru and ordered our meals. Instead of returning home right away to give dad his meal, Mom and I sat in my parked car in the lot and started eating our meal. Before I started on my meal, I unfolded Mom's napkin and gently placed it on her lap. I then opened up her sandwich and gave it to her. Finally, I placed her drink on the console and watched her eat some of her meal while I ate mine. All of a sudden, I noticed something I never noticed before! In a flash of an eye, I watched her go from an adult woman and change immediately into a little girl. I was taking care of my own Mom. Life made us trade places. She was a little girl who depended on ME to take care of her much like how I depended on HER to take care of me. Was I scared? No. was happy because I finally saw the little, sweet, innocent, happy young girl who lived inside of her.

Over the time, Jasmine, Janice's daughter grew up and left for college. My brother married a wonderful lady named Linda and had two children of their own -Arthur, Jr. and Saki. The Bernier family was beginning to grow.

On September 18, 2012, Mom lost the only man she had ever loved and I lost the greatest Dad in the world. Cancer claimed his life and like Janice's death, it hit Mom extremely hard. There were times that I just did not know what to do. Yes, I had to deal with Daddy's death, but first and foremost, I had to be strong for Mom. She needed me now more than ever. She was also in a wheelchair. The only trouble I had was getting her up and down the staircases in a house that was not setup for wheelchair access. Still, we made do with what we had to do.

On day while we were sitting in the driveway, some local kids came over and talked with her. She loved the children and they made friends with her. She even posed with pictures of them. She was still just the same nice person that I always knew. Occasionally, she would look to the right and just picture the cemetery that was not to far from our home and think back to the day when Daddy was buried. She, too, knew that one day, she would join him. Out of curiosity, I asked her if she would ever consider marrying again. She abruptly answered "No!" I knew that she would say that. I just wanted to hear it for myself.

On January 9, 2015, she could not stay in bed. She paced herself from the bed my brother bought for her to sleep in the dining room and the chair that was located in the living room for her to watch television. She was restless, but I noticed something else. Her voice seemed to have some element of fluid in it. I told her to take a deep breath. It cleared for a bit, but something else did not seem right. Still she went on about her day. I kept a close eye on her. Something was very foreboding that night.

It was just 24 hours later. I woke up and put on my clothes so that I could prepare breakfast for Mom and me. I walked past her bed and gently asked he what she wanted for breakfast, but she did not respond. I asked again and got nothing. I figured that she was in a deep sleep. I touched her arm and noticed that her skin was cold - colder than usual. I looked at her face. She never moved or even twitched. It was at that point - 7:11 AM - that I noticed that she was gone. Her life was over. Mom had died in front of me. She always had a tendency to talk in her sleep. I remember fixing her pillow in the middle of the night. I remember when she called out my name. I responded, but she never answered me. The very last word - Maurice! - was the very last word she ever said on this Earth. My very first friend was now gone. She literally - like Dad did - died in front of me. She saw me take my very first breath. Now, I saw her take her very last breath. It is a memory that I would never forget.

My Mom - Olive Bernier - was my guiding force. She was my supporter, my best friend. She was my morning and my evening. I sopke at her funeral. It was so hard. As an English major, I was able to write my words, but I had an awful time speaking my words. I had to say goodbye to that little girl who joined me at McDonalds. I had to say goodbye to the den mother of our scout troop. I had to say goodbye to the nurse. I had to say goodbye to my dad's only wife and mother to three children, grandmother to three more. I had to say goodbye to my Mom.

If you still have your Mom, love her. Cherish her. Value her. She is only here for a short time no matter how long she is with you. Learn from her. She has much to show you. She has so much love to give you. Accept her love and give her just as much love as she gives to you. Her love is powerful and never ending. It is bigger than all the mountains combined in the universe. She sacrifices for you. She should be given your gratitude for what she does for you. When nobody else will love you, your Mom's love will always come with the guarantee that you will live in her heart forever. Believe me. I know firsthand.

Every once in a while, I stop by the grave to visit my parents. They are buried in a cemetery not too far away from our home. They are together again and missed each and every day. I remember all of the good times. I miss them both, but, like Dad, Mom will always be the love and joy of my life.

Goodbye, Mom! I will always love and miss you!!!