All the Things She Wasn't

My mom was called home exactly a year ago today on October, 20th 2020. Many words have ran through my head since the day she left, but yesterday was the first day I finally attempted to write them all down. As I tried to gather my thoughts of all the words to describe my mom, it was easier to grab hold of all the things she wasn't. She wasn't in my life at all from the time I was 12 years old. I would talk to her from time to time, maybe every 3-4 months. Randomly I would get letters from her when she was in and out of prison, but as far as any kind of relationship as my mother, she just wasn't. It would be easy for me to put all the blame on her by asking the simple question of why not, but just as she wasn't my mother, she spent a lifetime missing hers as well. My mom's dad, Bobby, was her hero and protector. When my mom was just 19 years old Bobby passed away. I never knew him but still love to hear the stories about him. My grandmother, Pat, has been addicted to heroin ever since Bobby passed away. I can't imagine she is still alive, but possibly so. I really have no way of knowing. She only saw me twice from what I've been told. Once when I was a baby and again when I was about 10 years old. At 10, I remember studying all the track marks so deeply imprinted on her arms, wondering what on Earth could cause someone to stick a needle there. Full of nothing but deadly venom, why would anyone do that? As I get older I once again realize, she just wasn't. She wasn't prepared for life without Bobby. She wasn't ready to be a grandma to us, therefore heroin took all that pain away, I can only assume. Unable to speak on what it feels like or doesn't feel like because I've never done drugs, I can share the pain and heartache caused by drugs in my family for everyone who wasn't. Wasn't there, wasn't kind, wasn't caring, wasn't what I once knew, and wasn't love!

There is not a doubt in my mind that my mother loved me. I was her first child with one of the best baby books I've ever seen. My first haircut is still in there! She beat me on this one. I don't have Brody's hair saved anywhere...sorry buddy! My mom was always there for my sister and I when we were little. She was a room mom at my school, worked at the Greenville hospital, and was well put together. She was beautiful! Although I don't remember the first years of my life everyone who knew my mom says she was an amazing mother. I have no reason to doubt that because the first 8 years of my life I would have considered my mom to be one of my biggest heroes.

My parents divorced when I was 8, making my little sister 4. It wasn't super traumatic from what I recall, but my mom did start dating quickly. She married my step-dad one weekend when my sister and I were at my dad's house. She was happy, we were happy, and life seemed pretty normal really. We lived in my step-dad's house for awhile, but my mom still owned the house she inherited from her parents, which is where we all lived when my parents were married. Soon they sold my step-dad's house, so we could move back into my mom's house. My mom was very apprehensive about moving back into that home. That home is where she lived with her parents and with my dad, which were both broken memories for her. After remodeling and understanding the best move for them financially was to live in the house that was paid for, my mom agreed. This is when life as I remember became real messy. My mom wasn't ready. She wasn't prepared for the flood of memories; she just wasn't. Looking back now I feel my mom had a nervous breakdown. She had never recovered from the death of her dad, an absent heroin addicted mother, and a super hard, failed marriage. She broke! She changed into something I didn't recognize as being my safe place any longer. She wasn't the mom I once knew. Pills, sleep, anger, and depression literally swallowed my mom whole all the while she had two young girls watching her every move wondering what was so wrong. She lost her job at the hospital, had no motivation to even get dressed, and many times would stay in bed for days. I became the mom. Signing the folder each night for Sierra, doing the homework, and cooking the Ramen noodles was the role I took on. My step-dad was an amazing electrician. He loved my mom, but wasn't able to fix her. His job daily was to fix things and bring light to them, but with her this just wasn't going to happen. Life slowly was sucked out of them both as the windows to our house remained closed at all times. Just as the light was no longer visible in our home, life was no longer there either. At 12 years old I knew I had to get out. I talked to my little sister explaining to her I was going to move to dad's house. She didn't want to leave mom. I understood completely. She and my mom had a different relationship at that point. Sierra was mom's baby! Mom thought Sierra could do no wrong. Me being older, I took the blunt of the anger and depression because I started standing up to mom. I caught on to the drug deals, lies, and all the things she wasn't able to be. She knew when she looked in my eyes, I was pissed. She knew the determination and grit I had as well because backing down to her became non-existent. Being scared was no longer an option but fighting for my sister and myself became my strength. After finally getting the courage up to call my Papa one night, I quietly packed a few clothes and a pair of shoes. I sat on the front porch patiently waiting for my Papa's truck without my mom or step-dad even knowing. Sierra wanted to stay with mom, so I let her make that choice. For me on the other hand, there was no stopping. My Papa picked me up driving me straight to my dad's house where I lived the rest of my childhood. Shortly after me leaving, my sister came to live with us as well. From that day forward she never spoke another word to my mother. Not a phone call, not one visit, nothing. She decided when she moved in with my dad, she just wasn't any longer. Wasn't going to listen to mom, wasn't going to talk about mom, wasn't going to miss mom, wasn't even going to call Kristy her mom...she just wasn't.

Sports, graduations, weddings, childbirth, you name it, my mom just wasn't. She wasn't at any of these events. She wasn't present. Addiction consumed my mother with every ounce of her being. She was in and out of prisons multiple times, had every kind of charge under the sun, and just became an all out convict. Seeing her from time to time, I never knew what Kristy I was going to get. Maybe somewhat normal, maybe completely crazy talking about how "we need to be more like the Indians and get along," while literally popping her mouth with her hand making Native American noises. For real! She once was arrested for bathing at our city park in the creek. Yes, full blown naked in daylight, taking a bath so she explained. When I asked her what in the hell she was thinking she responded with, "Oh shut up Savanna...I was just taking a bath when those SOB's (cops) rolled up on me before I could get out and get all my clothes back on." The fact that people are "rolling up on her" probably answers many questions that I had. In these times, I would just shut up, look at my husband who would always be listening to her on speaker phone, and wonder how in the world I made it this far. My mother wasn't the owner of an address, a car, a phone, nothing. She just wasn't. She spent her life bouncing from house to house with friends when she wasn't incarcerated. She wasn't a mom, a wife, and grandmother...she just wasn't.

By the grace of God one of my mom's high school friends reached out to me on Facebook searching for my mom last year. I explained my mom's situation, but still Kim wanted to talk with her. After a visit with my mom and getting her out of jail once, Kim and Larry decided to let her move in with them. They were literally sent to us from God. My mom was being loved for the first time in years. She was eating well, sleeping, and had a chance to experience what living really was. She went to the nail salon and had her hair done professionally for the first time in years. In July 2020, my mom turned 57 years old. Kim and Larry planned a surprise birthday party for her at their home. After a few tears, some true anxiety, and a few pep talks my sister decided she would attend. This was an emotional night for sure. My sister and my mom had not seen one another in over 20 years! Years of healing took place in this one hug. I was beyond proud in this moment. One of my biggest fears in life was my mom passing away with my sister never forgiving her. I didn't want this for my sister. Un-forgiveness is a heavy burden to carry, and it was the last thing I ever wanted my sister to feel. When we walked in my mom was shocked!

Our mom was clean, sober, happy, and looked better than she had looked in years. She had the desire to live again. There was life in her eyes! Kim, Larry, their friends, and their family embraced my mom just as she was. They loved like Jesus! My sister and I were able to spend quality time with my mom for the first time in years. It was something we all needed badly. My mom kept saying how this was the best birthday party she had ever experienced in her life. She told us, "I just didn't think anyone loved me." Those were hard words to hear. They cut deep because we were just kids who always loved our mom. We didn't make any of the horrible choices, but were only coping the best we knew how in our situation as adults. I had always loved her! My sister had always loved her! My job as a mom now was to protect my family and myself from heartache though. I had no way to properly help and love her back to life. That special task was specifically designed for Kim and Larry, by God. I had tried to help my mom many times in the past with each trial ending in me feeling like a total failure and her reassuring me of all the things she wasn't. My mom lived with Kim and Larry for 4 months, never once leaving their sight. They hired an attorney to start the process of getting all my mom's legal issues resolved. The first step to this process would be my mom turning herself in to the Rains County Jail to get a bond set.

On Saturday, October 17th 2020, Kim, Cindy, and Daryl drove my mom from Rockwall to the jail in Emory to turn herself in. This was probably one of the first times she had entered a jail sober, holding her Bible. She was scared to go back to jail, but so hopeful for what was ahead in life after this process was finalized. She would only spend a few weeks there until her lawyer worked all the logistics out for her to be released on bond. My mom was happy to be going to Rains County where everyone knew her. Kim said, "That was the craziest thing I've ever seen...they rolled out the red carpet for her. They were so happy to see her doing well." On the ride to jail my mom read from her Bible these words aloud to Kim, Cindy, and Daryl.

The next day while in jail she read them again and dated where she had started reading.

The old her was dead, and she was ready for new life. A few weeks prior to my mom turning herself in, she had spent a weekend with my sister at her apartment. Sierra recorded many moments of my mom while she was visiting, but this one in particular gives me chills each time I watch and listen. My mom worshiped with open arms, closed eyes, and a true feeling of peace, "knowing He was there all along!" There is no denying Him!

We all had high hopes for my mother at this point. We had a plan! A great one! She would be released from jail with a lawyer for the first time. She would have a few more months of sobriety. She would get to spend the holidays with family for the first time in 23 years! The feelings of all the things she wasn't were slowly turning to thoughts of all the possibilities of what could be. My mom called me Monday night, October 19th in a panic from the jail. She gasped for air saying, "Savanna I can't breathe!" I told her to calm down, take some deep breaths, and explained that she was probably having some anxiety from being back in jail again after her 4 month stay in Rockwall. I knew she was sad being back there, but knew there was no other option at this point. I explained to her that I would be by to visit tomorrow. She said, "No, you don't understand...I can't breathe!" She then handed the phone to a cell mate who I talked with for a bit. Her cell mate explained that she had been having trouble breathing for awhile. I brushed it off thinking she was just having a panic attack from being back in jail. My mother also smoked like a freight train, so I figured not having cigarettes was also taking its toll on her as well. Around midnight I received a call from the hospital stating my mother who brought in by ambulance from the jail was now on a ventilator. The nurse kindly explained that she was not doing well at all, but at this time was stable. The moment I heard those words, I knew she would never wake up again. I knew this was it. I could feel it deep in my soul. Driving to the hospital alone because my husband was at home with our 5 kids, I cried wishing I would have taken her more serious. My greatest fear was telling my sister. How would she ever forgive me for not taking it more serious when mom called? One of my best friends, Angie, met me at the hospital. As we walked into her room it became even more real than the phone call I received. There she was...lifeless. She wasn't responsive, she wasn't breathing on her own, she wasn't really there. She just wasn't! My sister came to the hospital as soon as she woke that morning to all my missed calls. We sat by my mom as they ran tests and tried to keep her blood pressure stable. This was peak Covid time, so we never were moved to a hospital room. My mom remained in the ER room all morning. After a CT scan, the doctor revealed to us that my mom had been without oxygen a few times during all this madness. She coded at the hospital once where she didn't breathe for about 10 minutes. She was now suffering from an anoxic brain injury, brain bleed, and her lungs were full of fluid. The autopsy showed that cancer was present on her lungs causing small lesions where they had slowly been filling with fluid. She had started complaining about shortness of breath around 4:00 pm on Monday, but the ambulance was not called for her until after 10:00 pm that night when she starting coding at the jail. My sister and I made the hard decision to opt out of brain surgery with there being a very small chance of her ever being the person we once knew again. Our mom wouldn't want to live like that! We held her scarred hand as she took her final last breaths here on Earth. There was no fight, no suffering, and no questions. She just wasn't meant for this Earth any longer. She just wasn't.

Anger was the first emotion I felt once I had time to process what had happened to her. I was angry at myself and the jail for not getting my mom the help she needed. With the simple task of draining her lung, she would have been fine. She basically just drown, which is super upsetting for me to think about. I have no idea who was at the jail that night or the story they would tell. Truthfully, it really wouldn't change anything. Should they have called for an ambulance as soon as she said she couldn't breathe, yes. Did they know my mom very well, yes. Did they figure she was overreacting like she would tend to do sometimes, yes. Do they know my mom passed away clean, sober, and knowing God, I would sure like to think so. Do they have to live with the decisions that were made not to call for help sooner, yes. Do I have grace given to me daily, yes. Should they have the same grace given to them, I think yes. My only prayer for whoever was involved in that situation on this tragic day would be this:

I pray you have peace about this situation and any others you've been put in. I pray you know your value as a child of God, not just the value of your position in law enforcement. I pray you have grace on others, as I have had grace on you. I pray you know how safe my mom felt coming back to your jail in comparison to going to another facility. She was so happy to be able to serve the time there with you all. She was there for a reason because I know God makes no mistakes. I pray you know Him and have a personal relationship with Him. If you don't, please contact me. We can get that straight! If you encountered this situation from either side of the bars, I pray you have ultimate peace. I pray the lady I talked to on the phone that night is in a better place. I pray peace for every last person in that jail, on both sides of the bars. I pray for peace and comfort for the families of the people on both sides of the bars. I pray that each and everyone involved in this situation that night truly knows God! The inmates, jailers, medics, hospital workers, doctors, and even the person reading this today! I pray this for you all! We can't go back and change a thing, but my prayer from this day forward would be that because of this situation someone else's life is taken just a little more seriously.

It was a hard goodbye and I won't lie, there are often times I ask "what could have been if..." But just as we can ask that question about every tough valley we travel through in our life, it's not our place to know, only our place to trust. Yes, we made tons of plans with high hopes for my mom, but guess what? He had a better plan! My mom left this world with her two daughters by her side, with not an ounce of doubt about being loved. God gave us 4 months! Four months where she wasn't high, wasn't mean, wasn't crazy, wasn't looking like death...she just wasn't! God gave my sister the precious time to have a true conversation with her after not hearing her voice for 20 something years! God orchestrated the relationship with Kim and Larry at the perfect time. What if Kim had reached out 5 years earlier when my mom wasn't ready to be clean? When I tell you I know God, it's because I can tell story after story about when and where He showed up in my life...here it is! As I watch my mom sing the lyrics in the video above,

Oh the mountain where I climbed The valley where I fell You were there all along That's the story I'll tell You brought the pieces together Made me this storyteller Now I know it is well, it is well That's the story I'll tell

There were some nights that felt like They would last forever But you kept me breathing You were with me right then And all that you have done for me I could never hold it in So here's to me telling this story Over and over again

Oh the mountain where I climbed

The valley where I fell

You were there all along

That's the story I'll tell

You brought the pieces together

Made me this storyteller

Now I know it is well, it is well

That's the story I'll tell

There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that she is in Heaven. I can feel Him through her worship! He whispers softly to me as well, "It's okay." The night she called I wasn't that understanding. I wasn't that patient, wasn't very inviting, and wasn't super concerned. I just wasn't! I had been down this road many times with her. She was tough as nails. Never did I think that phone call with her gasping for air would be last, but it was...

Would I have done things differently had I known, yes. I think all the people who crucified Jesus would have too. His crucifixion was necessary though because without his bloody body dying for you, me, and my mom there would be no forgiveness or grace. And today as I wrote this I'm beyond thankful for that grace! The grace that knows all the things I wasn't. I don't question my mom or dad, their divorce, my childhood, anything of that nature really. I can honestly say I'm content with all that's happened in my life. Without all the past, there wouldn't be all the future. If my mom would have been all the things she wasn't, I wouldn't be all the things I am. For that, I'm forever grateful. Because of her I never did drugs, never left my kids, and can empathize with all my foster babies who may have a mom who just wasn't. I know so many things my mom wasn't, and I can firmly say she wasn't turned away at the gates of Heaven. I believe God welcomed her home when her time here was complete. He gave us all a few short months, so we could better know and trust Him. He knew all along the plan ahead. He knew that we would all need to continue Loving On Borrowed Time.