My Mother and Aaron

Ten years ago, on Mother’s Day weekend, we held my mom’s funeral.  It was fitting for her to be honored during the weekend dedicated to mothers, but it was also heart rending.  Her funeral, conducted by my brother, was the sweetest funeral I have ever attended.  

For her funeral, John had each of the grandchildren write down their favorite memories of their grandmother.  Aaron couldn’t do that, so I wrote about the special relationship they had.  I want to share that now.

So many memories come flooding in when I sit and think of my mother and her relationship with Aaron, her special grandson.  Not that he was any more special than all the other grandchildren, but because Aaron has special needs.  Yet those special needs are what made him so very special to his Grandmother.  From a young age, Aaron was diagnosed with epilepsy and autism.  His curiosities and abilities were a joy to his grandmother.  I’ll never forget her delight at watching him in Colorado, before he turned two years old, showing her his letters and naming them correctly…and how surprised and delighted she was.  I remember our visits to Third Street and all the fun Aaron would have.  The sprinkler in the yard, helping Grandmother put together her famous homemade pizzas, playing with the big marble toy or Legos, and Cheerios in the living room coffee table drawer.  And spinach!  Mom fixed spinach one night and Aaron, thinking that spinach would make him strong like Popeye, kept opening the refrigerator door, pry open the plastic container of spinach, take some of that cold spinach out, grimace as he swallowed it, and then push the container back and close the door.  Mom just stood there outside the kitchen, peeking in and laughing so hard at Aaron as he repeatedly choked down that cold spinach. 

We visited for Christmas right after Dad was diagnosed with liver cancer.   Aaron watched Grandmother and Granddaddy open their Christmas presents.  One present they received was a plaque with a long poem about what cancer cannot take away.  Mom, knowing that Aaron could read very well, handed him the plaque and asked him to read it out loud to us.  Aaron read every word while we all cried.  It was a memory Mom often spoke of, with tears in her eyes.  

One more!  We came home in 2010 for Mom’s surprise birthday party.  Even then she was having a hard time remembering all the grandchildren.  But she looked across the room, saw Aaron, and her mouth and eyes opened wide.  “There’s Aaron!” she said with true joy.  That recognition meant so much to Aaron, even though he couldn’t really express it.  I could tell from the look on his face.  So, the night that we found out she had died, I reminded Aaron of that day when Grandmother recognized him from across the room.  Aaron just smiled and said, “Yeah.”  It wasn’t a long comment, but his smile and his joy were unmistakable.  

That is what Mom gave to him…a smile, joy, and great love.  

I am forever grateful that God gave us our mother to love each of us, but also to especially love our special Aaron.

Her smile, her joy, and her great love will always be a part of our lives.  

And for that, I am forever blessed and grateful.