Everyone Deserves a Second Chance
We all have big changes in our lives that are more or less a second chance. – Harrison Ford
Article written by Alex Blackwell. Connect with me on Facebook.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
My mother died today.
Her body finally gave up. It had enough. My mother’s liver, exhausted from working so hard to filter the toxins she put there, finally reached its limit. So, it’s over. A life of abuse found a quiet end.
There will not be a viewing of her body, or funeral, and very few people are even aware she is dead. My father has ordered a cremation for sometime next week. Later in the summer my brother, sister and I will join our father for a church service to memorialize her life. Her death, similar to much of her life, will be isolated.
If second chances are granted, I wonder if my mother requested one. In the last month of her life, I could hear the fear in her voice. She was aware of the damaged she had done and the fact she was getting close to the end. I want to believe in the final week she would have traded the cigarettes, alcohol and pills for a chance to live her life differently. Maybe it’s my need for a second chance that I allow myself to believe this.
After my father called, I made arrangements to leave early the next morning. My sister also made similar preparations and will arrive on Friday evening. No one should face death alone.
The journey home
Brandon, my older son, and I arrived at my father’s house in the mountains of North Carolina late on Thursday night. He and I took turns driving the 13-hour journey from Kansas back to where I was raised as a child.
We went directly to see my dad before heading to the hotel. He was remarkably calm and had a peacefulness about him that did not suggest his wife of 53 years had died one day earlier. Perhaps his peacefulness was more relief than resignation.
He was her caregiver. Over the past few years, my mother’s eyesight was deteriorating to the point she could not see to drive or cook. A degenerative back condition kept her in bed or on the couch for most the day.
She would save what energy she had to putter in her flower garden before surrendering to the pain. Her flowers became important to her in the last years of her life. My mom nurtured them, fussed over them and found great pride in their beauty. She found every chance to brag about her flowers whenever I called her. My mom wanted me to know she was not ignoring them.
My dad doled out her various medications to keep my mother safe from herself. He cooked her meals; made sure she was comfortable and never left her alone. My wish is my father will now convert those sacrifices into a second chance for himself. My hope is my father has saved some medicine for himself and will use it to heal and find the strength to live the rest of his life however he chooses.
Brandon and I visited until our exhaustion won over. As we were leaving, my father hugged me and his arm stayed on my back a little longer than usual. His eyes told me his was grateful I had made the journey home. He needed his son right now and I needed my father.
Good Friday
Dad, Brandon and I met for an early breakfast before beginning the day. My father had a doctor’s appointment with the oncologist (he received an “all clear” for another three months) and then we started the drive to visit my aunts who live on top of Gillman Mountain outside of town.
The typical custom in the South is for family members to visit the griever, but Aunt Laura is required to stay on oxygen 24/7 and wasn’t planning to leave her house until the next day. As we were going up the mountain, I noticed how many apple orchards had been cleared to make room for new houses.
When I was a child, Gillman Mountain would have had been bathed in apple blossoms this time of year. But now the orchards don’t stand a chance. Developers are looking for their next investment and young mothers and fathers are looking for a good, clean and safe place to raise their children.
My aunts were comforting and offered fond stories of my mother. They acknowledged our loss and offered to bring dinner on Saturday night in keeping with the southern tradition. After looking through family photo albums with Aunt Pearl, it was time to leave. My sister’s flight was scheduled to get in soon and my father wanted to get back to take a nap before she arrived.
On the way back to town, we were stopped at an intersection to allow a funeral procession to pass through. The white hearse was followed by at least 25 to 30 cars. The person in the back of the hearse must have been known by many. It occurred to me if my father had decided to have a traditional funeral there would have been only a few cars following my mother.
Watching the cars pass by, I thought about the good my mother had done in her life and the people who might be in their cars following her if they knew she had died.
My mother wrote , The Wings of a Dove, a book about the history of gospel music in America. I know her book touched the lives and hearts of many. When my mom worked as a bookkeeper for a propane gas company, she would spend her weekends preparing home-cooked meals to bring to the men for lunch. She knew pinto beans and cornbread would do a better job filling their stomachs than cold turkey sandwiches. She taught me how to snap beans and shuck corn and the importance of freezing and canning food so it could be used during the times when these foods could not be found.
It was the remembrance of this mother, of the mom who could be nurturing and good, which makes me think of the need for a second chance.
Wiping away the dirt
My sister and I have not spoken for almost five years. There was no rift that prompted the estrangement other than my need to separate myself from my family as much as possible. I would call my parents from time-to-time and my brother and I try to stay in touch, but our family structure, and love, has slowly deteriorated over time.
I needed the separation to heal and to forget. Seeing my sister on Friday night, made me realize how wrong and selfish I have been. Jenniffer did not enable our mother to make the decisions she did. Our mother was responsible for her own decisions. As painful as that is to acknowledge, it is the truth.
On Saturday afternoon, Jenniffer, Brandon and I spent the afternoon cleaning my father’s house before our family arrived with the food they have been preparing. Because of my mother’s recent condition, my dad has just not been able to keep up.
Brandon and I took on the kitchen and dining room while my sister tackled the living room and bath room. It is remarkable how much dirt can accumulate when things are ignored for a while. Armed with grease-cutting products and disinfected wipes, we were all determined to wipe away the dirt and bring the house back to its original state.
We were overwhelmed with the enormity of the task before us. But once we started, it really didn’t take very long to start seeing some progress.
Before I left for the hotel to grab a shower, Jenniffer and I exchanged telephone numbers and email addresses. I entered my sister’s first name into my cell phone and then had to ask for her last name. I have allowed so much to come between us and for far too long. My heart cringed with regret with what has been lost. But after spending the afternoon wiping away the dirt, I know we have a second chance now; a clean start. My heart feels refreshed and ready to make some more room in it.
Daybreak
My son and I left early on Easter morning for the return trip to Kansas. It felt like a month, not three days, since we arrived to be with my father. In that time, I could see the desire in my father’s face for a second chance to live a life that would belong to him. I was given a second chance to be a little brother and Brandon was given the chance to see how love can continue to grow between a father and son regardless of age or circumstance.
The past few days restored my faith that everyone deserves a second chance. Its power and mercy was revealed to me as I struggled to see through my car’s windshield on I-40 between Asheville and Knoxville. The fog on the Smoky Mountains was especially heavy on this Sunday morning. However, the spring sun would soon gather enough strength to burn away the fog and bring some clarity to the travelers below.
The last time I spoke to my mother was two weeks before she died. My father had just brought her home from a stay in the hospital. He called to tell me she was home. He asked if I wanted to speak to my mother. I declined. But he didn’t hear me. He handed the telephone to her anyway.
She greeted me and asked how I was doing. I gave her a short answer. She said she understood I was busy and would talk to me later. She never did.
I wish I had a second chance to say goodbye. I would tell my mother I forgive her. I would tell my mother I understood her pain and knew her choices were a way to self-medicate – not because she didn’t love me. I would tell my mother her life did make a difference. Her life brought my life and my children’s life.
My mother once looked for a good, clean and safe place to raise her children. Over time though, just like the apple orchards on Gilliam Mountain, her heart didn’t stand a chance because she was convinced the sins of her past made her dirty and not worthy to be loved. But the revelation I had while driving through the Smoky Mountains was Lois Allie Shuler Blackwell died a person of worth and value because she was a child of God, too.
I went outside to find my mother’s flowerbeds after the family dinner on Saturday night. The bulbs she planted a few months ago were starting to sprout and poke through the ground. When love is allowed to find the light of day we see mothers who love their sons and sons who love their mothers.
I will follow you home.
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Comments
41 Responses to “Everyone Deserves a Second Chance”
What do you think?
This is a very beautiful and moving piece of writing; I am rarely moved to tears but I am blinking them back now I can tell you. My heart goes out to you at this time. All the best.
My dad died of cancer over 5 years ago. It was an extremely hard time in my life, but I’ve grown a lot as a result. Death certainly has a way of forcing us to really see life in its most raw form. It’s the most powerful reminder for us to live our lives to the fullest.
My condolences go out to you and your family. Thanks for sharing this with us. Eric
@ Seamus & Eric: Thanks for being there for me guys – you’re the best!
I’m sorry for your loss but glad that you were able mend things with your sister. I believe that satan tries to convince us that we are not worthy of God’s love and mercy. Unfortunately, some of us fall into the trap and believe his lies. God is able to forgive us all and to take our broken lives and use them for something good. I’m sure your mom had a positive impact on people’s lives in ways you’ll never know.
The mountains of North Carolina are beautiful, especially this time of year. I used to live near Asheville.
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.
John 10:10
What a touching and beautiful story you have written. You are correct: no matter what our past transgressions or current situation, we are all children of God and deserve to be treated as such. I pray that you and your family can find peace and love as a result of this. Kevin
Alex – this was beautiful, and a fitting tribute to the fact that “perfect” lives are not the only lives that are worth living – or remembering.
I lost my Mother to cancer almost 20 years ago, and just a few weeks ago I lost one of my best friends to suicide. Both of those individuals were beacons of hope and joy, even though both led lives less than what most would consider to be “wholesome”.
The choices that we make in life – good or bad – do not in and of themselves define us. The people, the memories, and the lessons that we leave behind, however, speak volumes.
Thank you for sharing, Alex, and all of my best to you and your family.
Alex,
You are so incredibly brave and generous to share so much of yourself with us. I am truly sorry for your loss.
I wish you comfort and peace.
Erin
No matter how old or young it’s always -what word?- sad to lose somebody you love.
And be assured, in Christ every day is a second chance.
I found this piece to be really touching. I love your honest and heart-felt writing, I am sure your Mom has read this, from wherever she is now.
This made me think about second chances – giving second chances to some people in my life, and to myself.
I am very sorry for your loss, may God be with you and family.
Gayathri.
We all go through life doing the best we can. All of us.
Sometimes that seems not enough to the people who love us. Coming to terms with that and forgiving the shortcomings as we see them is not easy.
Beautiful post. Made me think of my mother.
I am so sorry for your lost. Thank you for sharing this reflection with us.
Because I have shared my life with you for the past 25 years and I have watched this struggle from the sidelines, I wanted to proclaim my pride and enthusiasm for you to be courageous enough to go to this place of healing. I love you; you are an amazing man!
@ Aaron: So true. My mom taught me some imporant life lessons which have helped to shape the person I am; and the person I am becoming.
@ Mary Beth: Always – no matter what.
Alex, Susanna and I joined with your many friends in the HeartConnexion Community in praying for your family during this time of loss and grief. It is not an easy road to travel and some of the family dynamics you describe can be a landmine ready to explode or an opportunity for healing. Thank you for taking the risk of creating a healing place for yourself and others.
We are very proud to part of your journey and share it with your family. Thank your for being vulnerable and honest – it will likely make the healing a much larger impact than you will ever know.
Grace and Peace
Dr. Paul
@ Paul: I am blessed to have two families.
Every cloud has a silver lining.
It looks like you have a second chance with your sister. It’s a new springtime for that relationship and I hope that you have a long and pleasant summer ahead.
All the best
Nick
What a lovely dignified yet moving piece of writing. And what a heartwarming story. I’m so glad you and your sister have a second chance and hope your dad does too.
I know what it’s like to have second chances. When her dad left, my daughter went on a 13 year heroin habit and nearly destroyed herself. But in God’s grace she came round and relationships were healed not only with her but also with her dad. Sadly, she died five years later.
I wrote about the experience in mmy book A Painful Post Mortem because I wanted other parents to have hope; to know forgiveness; to understand that death is not the end but the beginning. All proceeds from sales are for two charities benefiting children. It’s my way of celebrating her victory. God’s victory.
I can relate to your story and am struggling through these issues as we speak. My mom has been married over 4 times, had multiple live in boyfriends, 3 dwi’s (one a month ago), and seems nearly incapable of being honest. My brother and I have no father, as ours left when we were 5 and 8; we are now 35 and 32. I feel like I have given my mother many, many chances and much forgiveness, but my pain is so raw because of her continued behavior. She really doesn’t understand the pain she causes us when she drinks or introduces us to yet another man. It continues to rip open old wounds, never letting them heal. At times, I feel so overwhelmed by her problems that my heart physically aches and I feel depressed. I feel guilty for saying it, but many times I wish she were no longer living. Last week, I confronted her directly about her most recent dwi she was hiding from us. I calmly, but sternly told her I was through with excuses and scapegoats. I told her I could no longer be around her or have her in my life or the life of my children. At the time, I really felt God’s Spirit giving me courage and confidence to confront someone who has manipulated and abused me for so many years. A week later however, I am struggling… am I being judgemental and unforgiving… as she has told me so many times? Or are these words of shame and judgement just old tapes and lies of the enemy?
Alex, I wanted you to know I am thinking about you and your family during these hard times. What beautiful, honest writing! Thanks for sharing.
Alex, Thank you for sharing your story. I wish you all the best with the healing of your family. To Steve O. I completely understand where you are. I don’t know you, but know I am praying for you. I could have written the same post you did. People tell me not to listen to the tapes, but what a difficult task that can be. Congratulations for sticking up for yourself!
Hi Alex….
Thank you for sharing this with all of us….
My father made his transition 23 yrs ago…. at first I felt sorry for him – as I felt he could
have lived a better life — and I felt sorry for me – as I felt he could have lived a better life!
As time went on – I became so aware – he was the best person he was capable of being given
with what was going on in his life at each particular moment… whether I liked that or not.
I then took the time to remember the “good” stories… The more I remembered them the more came to me….. Today I could only tell you good stories about my father….
Learning this – I was able to do that with my mother while she was still here in the physical….
She made her transition 3 yrs ago — We were at peace – Better than at peace – I was able to
see her while still alive as being the best person she was capable of being given with what
was going on in her life at each particular moment. We had a great relationship because of
that….
I guess I can thank my father for that.
Hugs,
Ellie
Alex, Thank you for sharing your story. I am moved to tears by your heart-felt honestly. Please accept my condolences. My heart goes out to you and your family.
Thank you for sharing this experience in your life. It is an encouragement to me that others do struggle with some common issues.
You have given me a clear example that through our forgiveness and acceptance, our lives will be blessed with grace, love and dignity.
I am truly sorry for your loss.
@ Ellie: Thanks for sharing your story. You father did give you a incredible gift of hope and love.
Alex,
My condolences to both you and your family.
This is a very touching story. I’m glad for your sake that you have forgiven her. My thoughts are with you.
Peter
Steve O – I can relate to some of your story, though my parents have been happily married for over half a century and there’s been no drink or anything like that. However, my parents turned against me ten years ago and I’m constantly told ‘call yourself a Christian’ whenever they think my response to them fails to live up to their expectations. I think the point here is that although God forgives (and grants second chances ad infinitum) there has to be repentance to complete the equation. And the Biblical perspective is that there are times when it’s right to ’shake the dust from our feet’.
It’s also right to practise tough love. I had to do that with my daughter (a heroin addict for 13 years) and that was what ultimately pulled her round. (That and a lot of prayer).
Mel Menzies: author of A Painful Post Mortem
Thanks for sharing your moving story.I am truly sorry for your loss. Life always gives us a second chance, it’s one blessing we have to face the different struggles we’ll be through. My father passed away 5 years ago, I had the opportunity to spend with him his last minutes, even his last breath of life.Something not very common, but it gave me the chance to face a new path.A lot has changed since he left us, but something he has given us still remains, his love for us, his joy whenever we were together, and all the simple things we shared.His best lesson for us : Be who and whatever you are, that’s to BE YOU.You have showed that in this post, and I thank you for that.A big hug from Argentina
I don’t think you need a 2nd chance to say goodbye; I think by writing this your mother knows exactly what you would have said. My thoughts are with you and your family, Alex.
Danelle
Hi Alex
Thank you for sharing such a remarkable lesson from your experience. I’m rethinking some of my decisions (of staying away from some people in my family) as a result of this post.
Please accept my condolences. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family during this time of grief.
Hugs
Pearl
@ Pearl: Good for you my friend. Hope things work out well for you, and your family.
This is truly a beautiful piece of writing. I was moved greatly by your honesty and your words of forgiveness. It is important for all of us to remember that everyone, including ourselves, deserves a second chance. I wish you the best in your relationship with your sister.
Hi Alex
Sending my condolences for your loss and my admiration for your gains! Thanks for your honesty in this post. Family are indeed our greatest teachers, they teach us about love, both the love we have for ourselves and others.
What you have shared here is not possible without a deeper level of love, compassion and acceptance for yourself. The healing you must be experiencing must be intense so be sure to take time to nurture yourself.
Feeling very proud of you…
Alex
Thanks for sharing your thoughts, may you find peace and direction as this journey unfolds.
Wow second chance what gift how cool!
Blessing Be Well!
Alex, you have my sympathy for the loss of your mother. It is good that you were able to open up communication with your sister. I took time away from my dad and his siblings for 10 years when I first started dealing with my incest issues. A year and a half before my dad died, I was able to go to his hospital room (He had an inoperable brain tumor.) and tell him that I forgave him. It didn’t mean that I was able to have him in my life. I wasn’t. He was a mean, practicing alcoholic. It just meant that I no longer hurt from the anger, hurt and sadness that I was able to release with the forgiveness. I wasn’t able to have a rational conversation with my dad. I talked to his Higher Self and I could read in his eyes that he heard me and was at peace on some level. We had a family get together at the funeral home when he died in January 2001 and I had his body cremated and his ashes scattered on the banks of his favorite fishing creek in northern Louisiana. He was happiest when he was fishing.
Family dynamics can be so very complicated. Blessings to you and your family.
Thank you for sharing your humanity with such an open heart. Blessings to you and your family.
@ Jan: From my heart to yours, thank you for reading.
Alex,
I am truly touched by your honesty. I believe that all of us deserve a second chance, especially ourselves. Buddhists teach that to be truly happy we need to accept the pain as a part of life and move with the flow. There is also a gentle way to break down the walls we build to protect ourselves. My heart is with you as you deal with the many things in your life at this time. I am always, and I mean always, touched deeply by your writings. You have encouraged, enlightened and made me think about a God I have at times forsaken. Keep up the good work. You will never know the lives you touch.
beautiful tribute … thanks for sharing your thoughts … you’ve used a teachable moment well
Dear Alex,I believe that God lead me to read your post.I am a 55 yr old mother of 3 Sons.They are(33,26,25).I have suffered chronic pain since 1988.I feel I am living what your wrote about.It is getting harder to move etc. because of pain in my body(fibromyalgia,arthritis and malalignment).I have gained weight and now weight 250 lbs.God is speaking to me about “Second chance” but I am not sure what or whom He is saying it about.I love my sons dearly and have tried to convey it.They don’t realize the reality of losing someone and how time is short.I lost my mom in 1987.She had a heart attack and the Dr. missdiagnosed her and thought she had a pinched nerve and gave her medicine that made her bleed internally.I never got to say bye.My Sons won’t call to see how I am.I am married to an alcholic who continues to fall off the wagon.He has heart problems.I am a christian and believe in the power of prayer.All my family are in Calif. and I pray for them alot. I am pretty much alone.Can you give me some advice on how to get or give a Second Chance.I am so sorry about your lose of your mother.I will pray for you and your family.Your post touched the deepest part of my heart.Thank You for sharing your life with us.God Bless you .
@ Patty: I admire your courage to share your story. Second chances are all about making the choice to do so. We give power to the things that keep us stuck and we can decide not to allow those things to have power on us any longer. Best wishes to you and for your search.
i loved ur article about ur mother and family good luck is all i have to say