The month of May will always make me stop and reflect on my dear mama, Mary Agnes Michaelis Araujo. She went from this life to Heaven the weekend of Mother’s Day almost three years ago.
My mom was one of my dearest friends in life. We shared our love of books, teaching and music. She was the one who always delighted in me. I never liked to tell her if I was struggling because her voice would get very quiet and soft over the phone. I felt so bad if I knew she was anxious because of me. After I lost that soft voice, I missed it painfully.
My mom was one of the brightest, most joyful people I knew. Alzheimer’s disease stole her beautiful sparkle from us all. It’s a journey I never wanted to take with her. It’s a journey I wish on no one. Yet I believe God showed me surprising lessons from my mom’s waning days. I hope if I share these, it brings more redemption out of those heartbreaking years. I will try, over the month of May, to share some reflections here with anyone who wants to come along.
Mom ended a magnificent teaching career on a disappointing note. Her classroom was an amazing place! As a young teacher I used to visit and try to learn how she taught with such excellence. She had a multiage group of students singing, creating and cooperating through their learning. Whole families attended her classroom and loved every minute of it!
Her supportive principal retired and the new one was not at all supportive of my mom’s unconventional techniques. She stifled my mom’s joy every chance she got. When Mom talked to me, she began repeating sad stories of those final days in the classroom.
Noticing that my mom was “getting stuck,” I began reminding her of the more numerous joyful days with her students. I shifted her attention off of that poor leader and the diminished ability to teach. Instead, I remembered the best of times with Mom. These too were real.
When that sad, sad Mother’s Day arrived three years ago, I made a decision. I would not get stuck in the painful final days of Mom’s life. I would remember the glorious, joyful times the two of us shared together. They were more “real” than the Alzheimer’s days. I call this “Remembering Backwards.”
Do you mourn the loss of someone you love deeply? We wouldn’t feel the depth of pain if the love had not been so great. I thank God when my heart aches for my mom. She loved me so well. This month I will not get stuck in sadness. My mom is not here, but she is free. And I carry her joyful sparkle into my own days. I will deliberately remember backwards.
I will celebrate the days when she was whole. I will celebrate that those days of memory loss have ended. I won’t get stuck in Mom’s final days, instead I will remember the bright and joyful woman who showed me beauty in this world.
Please share your own “backwards remembering” if you have lost your dear encourager. If the end was miserable, take your mind back to the joyful days. It’s a choice we can make.
Check back this month as I will continue “Remembering Backwards” in honor of my precious mom.
Anna, I just read your tributes to your mother. She and I were best friends all through high school and college till she and your dad were married. She went on to motherhood, and I stayed at Davis 2 more years to get my teaching credential. We saw each other a few times when your dad was in Viet Nam. That’s when I met you. As so often happens, we drifted apart after about 10 years but reconnected through Classmates.com when the class was planning its 45th reunion. We enjoyed some correspondence for a few years. When she stopped responding, I felt something serious had happened. In retrospect this was probably the onset of Alzheimer’s. She was a good friend and companion, and it is ironic that she died on my birthday. Perhaps it was her way spiritually of saying goodbye.