Reasons I Love My Mother

Reason #345:

I want to buy the new iPhone. I’m one of those terrible people who buys into all the Apple hype to the detriment of my wallet and sense of self, but I’m having trouble making the leap. Mainly because my mom bought me my last two (and only) iPhones, and this would just be another little loss of her. Ridiculous, right?

When she bought me the last one, it was on her gift day to me. As I’ve written about before, she took me and my sisters on a gift day before she died, buying us something we needed. It was her one last gift-giving hurrah; her chance to leave us with something we could use going forward, and something we could use to think about her while we used it. When I wrote about this gift day nine month ago, I don’t think I really appreciated how important that day was for her, and for me, so I’m writing about it again now that time has passed.

My gift from her was a little bit of money, providing me the ability and comfort to pursue my career without always wondering “how am I going to eat?”. But because that wasn’t a “fun” gift to give that involved unwrapping things or picking things out, my mom also wanted to get me a physical gift, so we went to the Apple Store and she told me to buy what I wanted. Now, pay attention: we are not a family where this happens. Ever. We were never spoiled as children - we also didn’t starve for things - but we lived a modest, middle class life.

I remember when I picked out a laptop and new iPhone that day, she asked if I wanted big, external speakers for my desk. I said I didn’t need them, and she said she didn’t care. Then she made me buy some. When she saw out of the corner of my eye that I settled for a medium-range set of speakers, she said, “Why didn’t you get those big nice ones?”, and I said “Oh, I don’t need those. Those are too much.” She said, “Yes, you do need those. Just get them. You have to get them.”

So I got them. I didn’t need them. But I got them.

The point is not that she got me these nice gifts, but the intention behind them. And I love the memory of her sitting in the Apple Store, smiling as I got to pick stuff out. It had been years since we had thought about anything but the cancer and my mom was very adamant that she would take each of us children out and spoil us. My favorite memory - and one that is also devastating and made me cry on the street just now as I thought of it - is the image I have of her sitting at one of the Apple stations while I shopped around for my things. When I would notice her out of the corner of my eye, she looked sick and was trying to stay awake. She was really weak but refused to put off this “gift day” any more because the days were only going to get worse and she knew it. But when she saw me looking at her, she smiled and perked up, mustering up all her strength.

I hated that she was taking these days and making them about us while she was clearly suffering; we all wanted to tell her it was okay to stay at home and rest, but we knew that would actually have made things worse. Regardless of how physically ill she felt on these gift days, she would have felt a million times worse had they not happened. In retrospect, I think going out with the three of us and having these days is one of the things that helped her let go. Not because we now had gifts and gifts are all you need, but because I could tell that she had a mental checklist of things she wanted to get done before she died, and I could see her checking one off on my gift day.

As sick as she was, it helped bring her closer to peace. She was a strong, determined woman and I just don’t know how she did it.

I also don’t know how I’m supposed to ever get another iPhone.