In Loving Memory of Carrol Lindsay Tronson

A very long two days ago, I held my mother's hand as she took her last breath.  It still hasn't sunk in.  I can't even believe I'm writing this.  I expect to see her walking around the corner at any moment, and both mornings I've awakened here, I swear I heard her clanking dishes in the kitchen to prepare yet another amazing breakfast for us all.  I don't think I will ever get over the impulse to call her when I need advice or when I need to complain about how life just isn't turning out the way I thought it would.  

I'm so emotionally tired but I can't really sleep.  So many images of her passing and of her life keep rolling through my mind like a slide show.  On the night she passed away, my daughter Ashlyn woke me up in the middle of the night calling, "Mom!" and I woke up and went to her.  About half way there, the horrible feeling of dread washed over me.  My mom was dead and I'd never be able to say "Mom" and have anyone respond.  At that moment, I wished I could forget, but just moments later, I felt panic that I might forget....her face, her eyes, her hands, phrases she'd often say, the feel of her soft skin.

I can't shake the wondering that she might be watching me now and laughing, most likely, but possibly disapproving of my actions or even my thoughts.  I know she loves me and I remind myself that she'd be the most understanding person in the world about anything I might be doing or thinking or feeling.  I'm so glad for that.  

Being here, in this great house, with my brothers and sister and dad is so good for us all.  I'm so glad we have so many... so many... happy memories of her.  In the hospital, as we said goodbye to her, my dad, in sobs, said "she really was one hell of a woman," and I couldn't have possibly agreed more.  She was beautiful, every fiber, inside and out.  She truly looked angelic and peaceful as we said goodbye to her for the last time.  She was a lady in every respect of the word. 

What Children Take For Granted

If there is anything a child should be able to take for granted, it's the fact that their mom is always there for them.

I've taken that for granted since the moment I was born. Mom never let me down either, even though I'm sure at times she must have felt that I was unappreciative and oblivious to her countless sacrifices. I often wonder why and how she was able to do it. She made me feel as if it was my right to always have her listening ear, her trusted advice, or just her calming presence after a hard day at school. I never once doubted that I was her top priority. In fact, it pretty much never crossed my mind that she might have something more interesting or important to do.

She made motherhood an art form. Everything was neatly organized, the most important things were always done first, the teaching moments were never avoided, but embraced. She taught by spotless example. I always knew what she expected of me, and I always wanted to fulfill her expectations, not because I feared her, but because I loved her and respected her. I wanted to make her proud and never embarrassed that I was the daughter of Carrol and Don Tronson of Medicine Lake, Montana.

Now that I'm a mother of my own two beautiful daughters, I sincerely marvel at how my mom did everything she did for me, and continues to do for me even now. And it's not simply what she did, but the way she did it. How could she have been so positive, so willing, so truly excited and delighted to work and practice and pray and play with all of us? Mom was and is an angel, a gift from God, sent to our family with great purpose and potential, of which none went unrealized--she made sure of that.

I know that I will never be able to repay my mom for everything she has given me. Her example is what gives me hope and stands as my beacon. Whenever I'm asked the question, "who is the greatest person you have ever known?" my answer is always immediately and without contemplation, my mother.

In these last days and months (and prayerfully, years) of her life, I hope that she is able to take for granted the fact that I and the rest of her family love her so much and will be there for her, as she always has been for each and every one of us, though we may not be so perfect at it as she is.

Mom, if you're reading this, I love you.