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Mom,Can You Pull Some Strings?

By: allanlovemonica

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"Mom,you can't die. I'm a late bloomer," I pleaded at my mother's bedside, as she lay dying of pancreatic/liver cancer. This couldn't be happening! My beautiful,vibrant,effervescent, fifty-nine-year-old mother couldn't be sick! It was all so unreal. Just two months ago she was fine,and yet now here she was,days from death.
"Mom, you have to meet my future husband and kids. You're not done. "
"Oh,Carol,I would have loved that," she said,wanly.
"Okay,Mom. If you're not going to meet him,you have to send him to me!Will you pull some strings for me up there?" I asked,trying to make her feel better.
"Yeah, Mom, you're on loser patrol. Carol needs help," my older sister,Linda,chimed in. We'd both moved home to nurse Mom and were with her night and day. Linda was right. I did need help. I'd dated a string of unavailable men. I'd been broken-hearted several times.
"Oh,my God. I don't want that job! I'm supposed to be resting up there," Mom exclaimed,knowing all too well how difficult the subject of "Mr. Right" was for me.
"Well,in that case,Mom,while you're at it,do you think you could get me a book deal?" asked Linda only half-joking. She'd been working on a book for three years and had a handful of rejection slips from numerous publishers.
"Gee,you two! I'll see what I can do," she said,smiling weakly.

A few days later,Mom passed away peacefully,the two of us praying by her side,our weeping father at the foot of the bed.
At her memorial service, Linda and I recounted for the over 300 attendees what a giving, selfless, loving mother she was.
I told the story of the first time she met the most significant boyfriend in my turbulent past,Bill. Bill was a professional harmonica player. On this first meeting, we went to brunch with my parents for Easter. Bill was my first real boyfriend after high school — the first relationship I'd had in six years. My parents were understandably excited to be meeting him. I was very nervous and hopeful that all would go well. Much to my horror, my father was barraging Bill with a series of annoying questions before we'd even ordered. "When was the harmonica invented? ...What keys do they come in? ...How many can you play?" And on and on. I wanted to melt underneath my chair! I looked desperately to my mother for help. Noticing my frantic eyes,she chimed in,"So,Bill,how long have you two been seeing each other?"
This was helping?!

"Uh,about six months," Bill replied.
"Gee," said Mom, leaning forward and grinning widely. "Any thoughts of this getting serious?" I wanted to die.
"Not until this very moment," Bill responded dryly.
In spite of it all,Bill and I went on to date for three years. He treated me like a queen and I grew to love him more every day. He felt ready to get married. I did not. We consequently broke up. I felt certain a world of wonderful men was waiting for me with open arms. I was wrong. With every new failed relationship,I'd weep to Linda,"Bill was so much better for me. " He,on the other hand, was in a committed relationship almost immediately after we broke up. I was devastated J

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