Boarding The Last Ship To Walk Through The Streets of Heaven

My mom always liked to sail. She loved boats, sea, and seagulls a lot. It must be because she had the opportunity to sail a lot, especially across and along the Adriatic sea, since she was a little girl.

Here she is, just boarded on the ship, at the age of 18, in distant 1938.

But this time she boarded a different kind of ship and took her final trip.

If you have been asking yourself why I didn't post a single line last few weeks and why I have been absent from Steemit, the answer is because of my mom who past away in the meantime, just two days before her 98th birthday.

Despite her age, she was very active and lucid old lady, and she was always very proud of her mental freshness. She used some funny expression describing how her brain is still functioning correctly. My kids always laughed when she was telling it. But it wasn't a joke. I always said that her brain is working better than the minds of ten of us, younger ones, all together.

Unfortunately, that changed almost overnight in her last few weeks. I assume the trigger was the death of my brother in law (my sister's husband). She loved him very much, and I believe she even felt about him as about her own son.

When he died, I was afraid of how she would cope with that. In contrary to my fears, she was more or less okay, at least at first. She worried more about how my sister is going to deal with her husband's death, where she is going to bury him, thinking and even somewhat trying to take care in helping her to organize the funeral and all those things around it.

But then, only a few days after his funeral she over a sudden entirely lost it. It was like someone turned the switch from on to off. She fell in bed, stiffly staring at some distant emptiness and not recognizing even us, her children. It was quite a shock for us, especially when she was pushing us away like some not welcome strangers.

My oldest son was even afraid she would hit me when I was getting close to her, but I didn't care, and I wouldn't pull back even if she did. My biggest concern was how to drag her out of that state. And I'm not talking about her medical condition connected to her body. I was aware of her age and unavoidable stage of the timeworn body.

What I'm talking about is the expression on her face that I didn't like. She looked lost, angry and in some struggle. All of it at the same time. I couldn't get rid of the feeling that she had some heavy inside fights. Prayer was the first thing that crossed my mind.

I didn't know if she is going to hear me (as by age her hearing was weaker) or even less understand what I'm saying, but I started to pray aloud the prayers I knew she would know and recognize in normal conditions. Shortly after, some sort of cramp she seemed to be caught into started to release. She was calming down slowly and stop pushing me away.

I was not very happy that my kids had to watch all of these. I told them if I would ever turn out to be something like that, they should ignore it. I asked them to never took it personally, and as well to keep in mind that I would never push them away consciously. My daughter was so sweet when she replied to me, "Don't worry mom, you just show and taught us how to handle such situation."

The next morning my mom started to pray on her own. Her oldest and best friend who is also my godmother visited her. My mom didn't recognize her either. She was still stiff lying in bed and staring at some distant point. The only difference was that she was constantly praying.

The following days I was continually thinking about how to trigger my mom more. I was convinced there must be something that would work. I just couldn't think what it is. Many ideas crossed my mind, but any of them didn't feel like the right one to me.

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I am her youngest child. She was almost 50 years old when she gave birth to me, and that's why my siblings are 20 years older than me. Therefore, I thought if they can't "awake" her and if she couldn't recognize them who she knows the same amount of years longer than me, how I would be able to do it.

Besides, I arrived in her life probably at the toughest times for her for many reasons. I always assumed it must be the reason why she never was an easy-going mom to me. Not even close. In contrary to common belief that the youngest child would be the most spoiled one, she walked me through entirely opposite treatment. Way harder than my siblings ever had, and they were aware of that too.

She was extremely strict, very bossy and demanding, especially to me. Because of many hard circumstances that life brought her way, although some of it she caused (some directly, some indirectly) her massive stubbornness combined with incapability to admit and accept her own weaknesses and mistakes, dragged her into the trap of doing some crazy things that would result with even worse circumstances.

In contrary to my siblings, when I reached my mature age, instead of chasing some easy way out, I had the courage to openly, and argumentative oppose her. If I felt that something wasn't right, it wasn't right even if my mom was in question as the leading actor. We ran into many arguments and disagreements because of that.

But I never confronted her in front of the others. If I had something to say I would say that firstly, solely and directly to her. In front of the outside world, I would always hold her back even at times and for the things that were not easy to explain.

She knew that I know her flaws and she hated her incapability to hide or even mask them in front of me. She also hated my "X-ray eyes and mind" sometimes capable of seeing things way deeper or even see possible outcomes more distant than most of the others would ever think of.

At the same time, she relied a lot on those "X-ray eyes and mind" of mine, especially when it comes to things that were very important to her. I always thought, my siblings as older and accordingly more experienced ones would be more competent. And I'm not saying that she didn't ask for their opinion too, but somehow always turned out that she wouldn't make her final decision or take the last move before discussing it with me.

Of course, she would be angry at me if I didn't tell her what she wanted to hear or even more if she would do the complete opposite of what I told her and when at the end it would turn out that I was right. Sometimes she even wanted to punish me just because I was right.

The hardest part and the hardest times for me were when she would openly go against me or my interests, doing things she knew would hurt not only me but even my family. The hardest because I didn't want to fight back either turn myself against her even then when not doing it would mean going against my own interests and wellbeing.

It cost me a lot of nerves and energy to stay on that path, but I didn't want to hurt her back. Therefore, I was always searching and finding different solutions and ways out in attempt to reduce the damage she caused, the most as it was possible. Unfortunately, some damages were incorrigible, and I chose to learn how to accept them and live with them.

Despite all that, I never stopped loving my mom genuinely and warmly. As a younger woman, I was draining myself trapped with the idea I should or would change her. I released myself from that prisoning cage long ago, realizing it's not on me to change anyone even not my mom, and that the only person in this world I could and am entitled to change is me.

Several years ago when I felt really exhausted by some of my mom's actions, my daughter told me, "Mom, I know it's not easy, but she is your biggest blessing. If she weren't that hard and harsh on you, you would never have a chance to build yourself and turn into that kind of person that you are now."
My daughter was right, and although it might sound awkward, I am grateful to my mom for it.

I'm not sure my mom was aware of it, but the same way I could see her flaws, mistakes or weaknesses, I was able to see many of her virtues, merits, and strengths, and there were always more important to me than those other ones.

The only thing I never understood was, why she was that harsh to those that were closest and dearest to her. Why she (sometimes even purposely) dragged them through the hardest times. That part never made sense to me. Mainly because I knew that deep inside, she had very warm and caring heart that would always keep peering out beneath her strictness.

I also knew that she helped many people in many different ways, even some complete strangers without a single question being asked and without any expectations in return.

Therefore, I always tried to encourage her in that direction by reminding her of many good things she has done and by telling her how, why and with what she made us (her children) as well as many others happy. She loved when I would talk to her like that, although she would try to remain serious and pretend like it's not important.

All in all, she was a strong woman with the complex personality that made her be as not that easy-going one, but at the same time, it didn't, and it can't diminish or even less deny the fact that she was a good person.

Last but not the least of her great contradictions was the fact that despite her strict seriousness, she liked good jokes, witty conversations and in particular loved to laugh.

I always felt like my most significant victories whenever I managed to talk to her about some serious issues or in some difficult circumstances showing them to her from the most comic side, while at the same time, trying to help her solve them, and when at the end she wouldn't be able to resist but start laughing.

"Oh, come on Ana, get serious!" - Sometimes she would say to me. But whenever I heard that I knew, I'm almost there and that I need to show her just a few more stupid and silly sides of the problem to turn her worries into the laughter and help her walk through it way easier.

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I was already in bed, one evening, still joggling different ideas through my mind on how to awake her brain and bring her to consciousness. Over a sudden, while I was still struggling through my thoughts back and forth, a picture from my childhood popped up. It reminded me of those special kisses she was giving it to me when I was a little girl.

Next morning I came to her and started to kiss her just the way she was kissing me as a little girl. Nothing happened. She was laying still same as before. I began to talk to her like everything is normal. I was telling her how I did this and that, where are the kids and what they are doing. Then I kissed her that particular way again.

Her eyes sparkled differently for a moment. She turned her head towards me, smiled, and softly whispered, "Oh, Ana!" Over a sudden, she grabbed my hand and started kissing it.

"Is she kissing you?!" - I heard my husband who was in the room too, standing close to the bottom of her bed, asking me in disbelief.
"Yes." - I replied quietly.

Then, while with one arm she was still holding my hand close to her lips, she raised the other hand and made a big sign of the cross over me.
"Oh my God, she is blessing you!" - I heard my husband saying. I turned my head and looked at him. His eyes were red and full of tears.

Soon after, my mom boarded her last ship and took her final trip. But sailing wasn't the only thing she loved. She also liked long walks through the streets of our city. Some photos that I found, now when I'm doing some cleaning and going through her staff, reminded me on that too.

I believe, now when she left this earth, she met my father again and I'm sure they must be taking some long walks through the streets of Heaven, hand in hand, the same way as they used to through the streets of our city when they were a young couple.

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_{Photos source:
All photos in this article are from the own family album.}

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Posted on Wednesday, June 27, 2018

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