Mom.my Hero

The Woman, the myth, the legend: Mom. My Hero.

Mambo. Only you could turn a couple fractured ribs and a near death experience into a celebration.

I fell down the stairs. Going to the hospital. Love, Mom.

You scared the hell out of me with that message. “Are you ok? What happened?”

“I don’t know, I just slipped down the stairs.” You said weakly. I could hear your pain through the phone.

“Don’t worry, you will be fine.” I tried to sound as reassuring as possibly could. My mind flashed to those commercials where the actor yells out “I have fallen and I can’t get up.” You’re older, but until that moment I never thought of you as old old. “Did you call 911?”

“No, I can’t really move.” Your voice is faint. “Sheryl is calling the ambulance and will meet me at the hospital. It’s getting a little cold in here.”

“I’ll call Sheryl and make sure she called 911. Just stay calm mom. Mom? Can you hear me? Mom?” You hung up. I called back. No answer. I called Sheryl.

“Don’t worry baby,” Sheryl answered on the first ring, “I got your mom on the other line and the ambulance is on the way. My boyfriend Rory was around the corner from your mom and is heading over there right now. Let me get back to her and I’ll call you when I have more info.” Click. I stood stunned and helpless in my living room staring blankly at your daughter-in-law and grandson.

I hit the road immediately. It was about a four-hour drive to where you live. Sheryl updated me periodically, letting me know that the X-rays showed two fractured ribs on your left side, but you were stable and doing well all things considered. I stopped by the pharmacy to grab some extra strength Tylenol and lidocaine patches. On the way to the register I grabbed a heart shaped box of chocolates for Valentines Day. Never show up to someone’s home empty handed, your voice rang in my head.

Around 8 p.m., I finally pulled onto your block. I figured one of your neighbors must be having a party because the closest parking spot I could find was at the far end of the cul-de-sac. But as I approached your front door, I was surprised to hear a chorus of voices singing along to “Ruby Tuesday” by the Rolling Stones. A wave of relief swept over me knowing that you weren’t alone.

I opened the door right as the song faded out and a crowd of people turned to stare at me. I waved awkwardly and then saw your best friend Sheryl in the middle of the group with a big smile. “Hey baby, so good to see you. Your mom is going to be so happy you're here. She has been such a trooper today.”

“Thank you so much for being there with her today. How is she? And who are all these people?”

“These are all of her friends, baby!” Sheryl turned to introduce me to the crowd. “Everyone, this is Harriet’s son Cody.”

“Hi Cody” the crowd said happily in unison.

I walked out of the living room and down the hall towards the guest bedroom where Sheryl said you were laying in bed. I peeked into the room to find you sleeping with Cliff curled up next to you like a big black furry pillow. I walked in, set the chocolates down on your nightstand and pet Cliff's head softly.

Rejoining the group in the living room, I was bombarded with all types of pies and cakes and pastries and lasagna. But even better than the food were the stories I received. Stories about how amazing you are and how many lives you touched in such a short time since moving away from the city.

“Your mother has such a big heart.” One woman said with a heavy Trini accent. “And she is as stubborn as they come, you hear me?” This woman introduced herself as Lenora. She was an older Trini woman you met two years ago at the hospital during one of your visits. She spent many days at the hospital caring for her son who was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. Because of her poor English and limited medical coverage, the hospital staff wasn’t giving her son the attention he deserved.

“Your mother, took care of my boy so well. She walked straight up to that chief doctor, day after day after day demanding my son be given the best treatment they could provide. I did everything I could to help my son, but your mother was his biggest advocate. After she got the hospital to change their policies, she continued to visit my son every week. It was the best part of his week all the way until he passed last month.” I could tell from her sad smile that it was a bitter sweet memory. And I hope she could tell from the look in my eyes that I was so proud to be your son.

“All that time she spent in the hospital, she even won over the doctors and the nurses. You see, some of them are over there in the corner.” Lenora pointed at three nurses, a woman and two men. All still in there scrubs. They told me you were the funniest and strongest patient they had in a long time. They were familiar with you from your visits with Lenora’s son. And they were all worried about you when they saw your name on the clipboard in the emergency room. But despite the cracked ribs and the bruises all over your body, they said you never once stopped shining. You told them, "hey, I am alive and I am grateful for the chance to heal." You always had a knack for finding the silver lining in every situation.

Another woman I spoke said she was your co-teacher in the special education class at the local public school. I thought you gave up teaching when you moved out of the city after you finalized the divorce. But I was so happy to hear that you continued educating young kids with disabilities. And I wasn’t the only one who was happy you did. Your co-teacher Mary said she has learned so much from you. She mentioned she was skeptical at first, but quicky realized that you were never doing it for the paycheck or recognition. You truly are invested in each student’s success and push them to realize their potential when so many people have given up. Your results showed Mary that there is a unique key to unlock each student’s learning potential. And you never gave up on a single student until you found a method that helped them excel. It reminded me of when I was a young student who couldn't concentrate for more than a second. You gave me two smooth rocks to keep in my pocket and whenever I felt fidgety or if I was losing focus, I would fiddle with the rocks and it would calm my mind so I could keep up with the lesson.

I walked into the kitchen to find the entire counter covered with cakes, cookies, soups, and cards from people throughout your community. Your friends, your students, the hospital staff, the EMT that picked you up off the floor the morning of your fall. It was so nice seeing this side of your life. I don’t know if I had ever seen it before and it completely removed all feelings of worry and helplessness.

Your friends stayed for about another hour making sure you had everything you could possibly need when you woke up.

I woke up early the next morning. The bay is your backyard and it felt like the sunrise was a private show for your little slice of paradise. I was standing there waiting for the sun to poke its head above the horizon when I heard your voice.

“You’re up early Kiddo, I missed you.”

“Mambo, how are you feeling!” I gave you a hug that may have been a bit too tight given your injuries. Cliff sat by your side like the well-trained retired guide dog he is. “Man, do you have some interesting friends out here Mambo.”

We ate breakfast together and I played you some guitar. I had to get back to the city. Back to my wife and my son. I left in the early afternoon trying to beat some of the traffic. As I began my drive, a smile crept up on me. I was happy to meet your friends and the community you have helped shape through your kindness and lessons of love. You have a magical way of impacting everyone you connect with. You make everyone feel like family, you’re so much more than a teacher, you’re a friend, a life coach and a major inspiration for so many people. You are my hero.

All of these emotions stirred inside me as I approached the on ramp to the highway back to the city. Turn right in five-hundred feet. I ignored the GPS, hit the gas and made an abrupt U-turn. A few moments later, I put the car in park in front of your house. “Did you forget something honey?” you asked. I just wrapped you in my arms and gave you the biggest (and gentlest) hug I could.

“I almost forgot to say I love you mom.”