Reflections of Momma

By Metta Marie Archilla

Phyllis Evelyn Mooney-Zigenbein. Mom. Words cannot express the gratefulness and appreciation I feel for you! Neither can I define the thanks I give you for everything you have done for me. You have always been there for me, through right and wrong, and have shown me the way. You have always pushed me to be the best that I could be and man, oh man, I know I was a hyper handful! You were my greatest influence, an influence that will stay with me always. Mom is my guiding light. She is the beacon in the lighthouse, calling me home always. Momma taught me that kindness was necessary and helping others was just what we do, daily. She raised me to be strong and independent. But no matter what, I will always be her little girl. I will always need my mom. I thank her for the lessons she taught me and those she teaches me still at a frail 94. Momma taught me to smile in the face of hardship and to believe in myself, no matter what anyone says. I thank her for always making me feel unconditionally loved and appreciated and for instilling in me a sense of worth that I am good enough in the eyes of the Lord, that I do matter. As Momma struggles with this final grace in her life as late-stage Dementia takes hold, she still manages to laugh and smile through my stupid jokes and crazy little stories. What a remarkable woman to fight her last and still make me feel beautiful through gentle reminders that the world isn’t ending even, when I think it is. But mostly, I thank her for being the most wonderful mother imaginable, I can’t ever be the Mom I felt she was to that scared inner child I was growing up, but I sure do hope to one day become half the woman she continues to be: strong, beautiful, and intelligent. Thank you, Momma for loving Ashlynn, your “Grandcub,” and for co-parenting this young lady who is learning to make her own way in this big bad world. You have taught her as you did me, to buckle up and dig in, because life ain’t fair much

Photo Credit: Patricia Hudson

of the time. But for your gentle hand helping to carve her tender and beautiful heart, thank you HUGE for THAT. Day and night, Momma taught me patience, (although I’m still working on that). At bedtime, she taught me how to pray. Momma would sing children’s songs to me until I would fall asleep. I thank her for loving me when I didn’t feel lovable. I was to her, and THAT mattered. Now, as the tide turns and her mind betrays her body, I am blessed to be able to sing my mom to sleep every night. As I take off her tiny slippers and socks, she lays her glasses carefully on the nightstand beside her, and I tuck her in with our favorite lullaby, “Jesus Loves Me.” Yes, her meds help suppress the visions that severe Sundowners shower upon her, but my voice, the melody, the security of knowing God lives and we are safe, puts Momma to sleep, and for that, I’m grateful. Great trials are lived throughout our lives. People and instances test our character to mold and form us into better and braver people. Caring for my mom in this final phase of her life is a blessed gift;

Momma with Ashlynn

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it teaches me patience, understanding, and love as I care for her, a child regressing without the hope of what once was. In this, I am happy. She chose me 54 years ago; I choose her now. I choose to support her with the safety of my presence as she has provided me with a safe haven for all of my life. Each one of us has an “expiration date.” Experts have determined Mom’s, but I say only the Lord knows the day and the hour. Our family lives every single day as Mother’s Day because any day could be her last. Momma, I love you more than you can possibly imagine, but still, I know you have loved me so much more. Thank you for my life. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for being my mom! Happy Mother’s Day, Momma.

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