Last Thursday, we were celebrating Baylor’s 2nd birthday. My sister Ali, Mame (Baylor’s Godmother and so much more), Grandma and Grandpa and Auntie Beth were gathering at our house to celebrate. It was a great night filled with presents, really ugly home-made cake pops and lots of love.
This Thursday we were attending Mame’s funeral.
The juxtaposition between the two weeks is horrific. I can’t get the fact that life has changed in such a short period of time. I am struggling to write this post, but I want to pay tribute to a wonderful woman.
Mame’s real name is Mary. She was our nanny since before I was born and quickly became part of our family. Ali couldn’t say Mary so she came up with some cross between Mommy and Mary and got Mame or Mamie. The name stuck. In fact I remember learning that Mame wasn’t her real name around age 6. I usually referred to her as my aunt because it was just easier to explain, but truthfully, there wasn’t a fitting description for her role. When Baylor was born, it was clear there was no better Godmother than Mame and she took her role very seriously. It was nice to finally have some sort of description that people would begin to understand.
Mame learned that the ovarian cancer she had battled seven years ago was back for another round last September. It came looking for a fight and it got one. She underwent some of the nastiest chemotherapy out there and still managed to go to work for a few hours each day and have Baylor over for “Camp Mamie” at least once a week. Even when we didn’t see each other, we talked daily. To say she was a fighter was an understatment.
Last week her pain became extremely elevated and the weekend after attending Baylor’s party, her body gave up to the cancer, medicine and pain. Truthfully, we knew things weren’t going to get better. But the shock of loosing her so quickly is crushing. The worst part is that Baylor is struggling with understanding where her friend, playmate and Godmother has gone. We have explained as best and as gently as we can, but it’s an ongoing process as an innocent little two-year-old’s mind and heart cannot fathom death and forever. It is a constant conversation as she asks if we can call Mamie or if Mamie is home. She is now answering her own question by getting very quiet and saying “Angel Mamie” which is quite literally killing me.
One of the bright spots in this week has been the enormous outpouring of support from family and friends. I have always known how amazing they all are, but it’s not until I’m falling apart do I really realize how blessed I am to have them. They have brought cookies, muffins and tequilla. Facebook messages, text messages, emails and cards. Offered to babysit, make arrangements, sort and pack up belongings and sit and listen. They planned a birthday dinner for me for this weekend because they knew I’m not my normal birthday-loving-self this year. To say that they are the best is not enough. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve them, but I know I need to keep it up.
I have also been reminded what an amazing man I married. You never quite know what the “for worse” part of your marriage vows are going to encompass, but this week would sure qualify. Peter has been the constant shoulder to cry on, dealt with my crabby attitude, my constant feeling of being overwhelmed, made dinner, worked from home, helped organize documents and been the soft spot to fall for both Baylor and I. When I told him what my mom was planning to put together for food for a reception, he insisted on handling the food himself. He made all the arrangements and brought Mame’s favorite mexican food for everyone to enjoy. He has done all of this with a smile and compassion far greater than anyone should have to have in this situation. I have always said if I could clone him, I would make millions. After this week, it would be billions.
So today we all pick up the pieces of our broken hearts and start to move forward. It hurts. It’s sad and it’s hard, but it’s necessary. The world is a little sadder and a little dimmer, but there are so many people who are better for just knowing Mame. We laughed tonight thinking about her sitting at a table surrounded by family and friends in Heaven, drinking Amaretto Sours, listening to Cheap Trick and enjoying every minute of it.
9 thoughts on “How Fast Life Changes”
Beth, I am so sorry for your loss. She sounds like a beautiful spirit, and if nothing else, be glad that she was such a big part of your life for so long. Big love from us to you and your family!
Hey Beth, I am so sorry. Your Mame sounds like an amazing woman. You are so lucky to have people around you that love you so much. I am thinking about you in this tough time. Let me know if you need a vacation out to the OC 🙂 aoe, Tasha
We wish so much we could have been there with you guys, Beth. Mame has a big fan club in Montana that will miss her terribly!
Beth, I am so sorry for your loss. Such a touching post. Please let me know if I can assist you in any way. Thinking of you. Stephanie
What a beautiful toast to Mame. I’m so sorry for your loss, but what an amazing relationship you had the oppportunity to have in your life… Thinking of you, hugs.