The Elephant in the Room

Today has been difficult. I’ve been thinking about Mom…my heart aches and misses her. If you knew the entire story, you would, I think, shake your head. The fact that I actually miss Mom is, even to me, complicated to understand.

Her last Sunday with me comes to mind. She had just eaten breakfast – slower than usual. I was busy trying to get everything taken care of and set up so that I could go to church. I kept looking at her from the corner of my eye, I did not want her to think that I was concerned – if I looked calm and collected, she would rest in that everything was okay. However, I could sense something was not getting better. I finally sat across the table from her to have a much needed conversation, one that we had visited many a time. She almost seemed bothered by me interrupting her puzzle-making-time, but she finally looked up. We talked about wishes, decision, desires…I can almost picture her face and a look in her eyes of “I know what’s happening. I’m okay with it.” I went to church with a heaviness in my heart. I worshiped and prayed to the only One who would, once again, be my Supernatural-Strength in days to come – o how sweet it was. It was almost as if My Jesus cradled me and comforted me in a way that was going to raise me above what was up ahead.

So often I’ve felt that it is almost forbidden to cry, to remember. It is as if people around you are uncomfortable to even bring up Mom’s name. There have been times when all I want to do is sit with someone and simply talk about Mom – My Mom! I wonder how are my brother’s doing? Do they think of her as I do? Are they hurting? Do they need a hug? Do they need to talk about Mom?

Just the other day I received a letter from Charter Hospice (they were the ones that came in to help with Mom’s last days). At first I thought the letter was some form letter to tie up lose ends, you know business. The letter began with “Please accept our heartfelt sympathy in the loss of your mother, Elvira…” “Mom’s name!” was my first thought. This letter went on to say some very kind words. It ended with, “I have enclosed some information that may help you as you begin this journey of healing. Remember, we are here for you…” I though, “somebody remembers; they haven’t forgotten.”

One of the enclosures was the following poem:

“The Elephant In the Room” by Terry Kettering
There’s an elephant in the room.
It is large and squatting, so it is Hard to get around it.
Yet we squeeze by with, “How are you?” And, “I’m fine…”
And a thousand other forms of trivial chatter.
We talk about the weather.
We talk about work.
We talk about everything else…except the elephant in the room.

There’s an elephant in the room.
We all know it is there.
We are thinking about the elephant as we talk together.
It is constantly on our minds.
For, you see, it is a very big elephant.
It has hurt us all.
But we do not talk about the elephant in the room.
O, please, say her name.
O, please, say “Barbara” again.

Oh, please, let’s talk about the elephant in the room.
For if we talk about her death perhaps we can talk about her life?
Can I say “Barbara” to you and not have you look away?
For if I cannot, then you are leaving me
Alone…
In a room…
With an elephant.

So I guess I just had to talk about the “elephant in the room”…I just had to say Mom is gone and I miss her so…