In Memory of the Most Wonderful Mother (Part 2)

My mom, age 2, with her mom and dad.

My mother lived for 62 years, and she packed a lot of life into those years. She was married three times (well, four technically, if you count her re-marrying my father in 2001), had two daughters that grew up to be strong, independent, outspoken women, and overcame a myriad of problems that might have made a lesser person go off the rails. Her experiences shaped her into a woman with an incredible will, a compassionate heart, and a deep understanding of things that a lot of people cannot understand.

Graduation day. Mom is on the left, her sister Debbie on the right.

By her own admission, mom was a straight laced girl through school (although she had her fair share of getting into trouble with her sister, Debbie), shy and quiet, and married her high school sweetheart Richard after graduation. They had my sister, Shannon, but after her birth Richard grew jealous and distant. His behavior proved to be too much, and mom divorced him. Her second husband, Mike, was a marked contrast - he was wild, a party-loving guy, and the person who introduced mom to her first stint with drugs. It was mostly acid, LSD, and in her later years when I was old enough to understand, she would tell me about the things that she saw under the influence. It was funny later, but obviously at the time, it was no laughing matter. Mike wound up cheating on mom with one of their mutual friends, but even after the divorce and her moving back in with her parents, the drug use didn't end. If anything, it got worse. Things came to a head when mom forged a check from her father's account. She knew she would get caught, but she did not care. Part of her probably wanted to get caught, and this was a way out. Inevitably PawPaw (my grandfather, her dad) found out and gave her a choice. Check into rehab or get kicked out. To her credit, mom went through JADAC (one of the drug rehab places in town), and began her recovery.

Mom and dad, the early years.

She got clean and I think at this point, her and my dad were married, and driving cabs. But after she was robbed, mom quit. It might have been at this point that I was born, in 1982. Mom stayed home while dad switched to driving trucks (which eventually led to his long time employment by Wal-Mart), but at some point she was hired by Jewish Hospital, one of two jobs she held for the longest period of time. She was a switchboard operator who eventually became known as one of the hardest workers in the hospital, known and trusted by dozens of people. But it was during these years that she fell off the wagon - thanks to a relative.

"No, Jenny, put down the bottle."

I didn't learn this until within the past two years, but one of my cousins introduced her to cocaine. She started using it at some point during the late 80s-early 90s. To her credit, I had no clue. True, I was young, but there were martial problems developing between her and my dad (due to him having a one night stand with a woman who worked, of all things, with a traveling circus that had come through town), and as a result mom began to dote on me excessively. When he was gone, I slept in her bed with her, and even when he would return home, I slept in between them. I was young, and didn't realize I was a literal and figurative barrier between them. During the night, once I was asleep, was when she would use, and stay up all night, paranoid. Yet she was a perfect mother - was there for school meetings, every time I was in a play or received an award, took me places, bought me things. There was never a lack of love or attention. And I never had an inkling.

She encouraged my attitude.

Fast forward to 1995. Momma had been drug tested at work and it came back positive. They forced her into rehabilitation, but this time she went to a group headed by a counselor named Leo Hobbs. The hospital wound up firing her under another pretext, but she stuck with Leo who led her onto the road to recovery. But before it took hold, my grandmother (Nannie), sister (Shannon) and dad gave mom an ultimatum: tell me about the drug usage or they were going to take me away from her. She had probably hoped to spare me from the knowledge, but after this she couldn't. I remember the day - she said she needed to talk to me, and that we were going for a drive. We drove up to Highview park, about 10 minutes away, and as I watched the trees go by, I quite clearly remember wondering what she had to tell me that was so earth-shattering. The only thing I could think of turned out to be exactly what it was: she was a drug addict. Mom was deathly afraid that I wouldn't love her anymore, that I would turn against her for not being as perfect as I had always thought she was.

She couldn't have been more wrong. If anything, I loved her more. She was still a perfect mother, but not a perfect person. She was fallible, human - and the fact that she was willing to do whatever she could to stay in recovery, and keep me, made her precious. I met Leo a few times, and he was always kind, understanding and willing to play a game of Jinga that he kept in the office. Thanks to his counseling and her strength, she never relapsed. I believe that her future medical problems may have stemmed from the cocaine usage, but have no way of knowing for sure. She cut ties to both family and friends that used to place herself away from potential temptation.

In Florida 1999. Mom is not amused.

It was in late '98-early '99 that my mom and dad divorced, and I'm sorry to say that I'd never had a close relationship with my dad after earlier years (when I didn't know/wasn't able to understand the problems), and I was old enough to choose to live with my mom. She began a relationship after their divorce with a man whom she had met online. His name was Tom and he lived in Florida. They did the usual online relationship stuff - phone calls, trips, etc. until he finally moved up here and in with us. At the end of the school year, in May 1999, mom and I went to Florida for the first time, and went to Universal Studios. It was fun but during our trip, mom broke two discs in her back during a boating trip. She went to a hospital down there where the doctor told her it was nothing big - and it turned out it was. That was where her degenerative disc disease began, I believe. Due to the continuing pain (a doctor later told her he was amazed she had been able to walk around Universal, given she had something akin to a broken back!), we didn't do as much as we could have but we made the best of it and a lot of fun!

Hanging out at Universal!

Her relationship with Tom went south, however, and he wound up moving out. Her and my dad started dating (which myself and a co-worker at the job she was at during the time encouraged), and they wound up getting re-married in January 2001. During the two years they were divorced, I had grown much closer to dad, and that relationship only got better after the remarriage. Both of them had changed for the better - they were friends as well as spouses, and there was much more communication and love shown. I was truly blessed to witness and be apart of this second stage of their relationship. True, both got on each other's nerves from time to time, but there was never any doubt about the love or the commitment from them both. We took trips together, went out to eat, ate together at home..it was a completely different relationship, and it made me proud to witness their love.

January 2001, the start of the better half.

When I got into wrestling in 1999, mom may have thought it strange at first (considering I had disliked wrestling most of my life to that point, even mocking my cousin who was a huge Hulk Hogan fan), but she never discouraged me from any of my hobbies. Whether it was reading, comics, climbing trees (I was your typical tomboy), or wrestling she either accepted it or went further and encouraged it. However, this was a plus as she happened to see Shawn Michaels during an episode of RAW and started to watch it with me. We would discuss what was real, what wasn't, the stories, the wrestlers, and in July of that year, she took me to my first RAW which I believe was the last one before the July '99 PPV, Fully Loaded. We had seats way up near the top of Freedom Hall but it was still a lot of fun. Every wrestling show I went to, aside from Judgment Day 2000 and the last WWE show I went to, a Smackdown a few years ago, I went with mom who always had fun. I remember the first house show we went to (all the others had been RAW or Smackdown! live/tapings), Shawn Michaels had returned full time by then and was teaming with the Big Show to wrestle Triple H and Chris Masters. They did several hilarious bits, one of which involved Hunter running in circles while HBK held onto him.....by his tights. Hunter had a magnificent rear end. Our last wrestling-related trip was in 2007 when we drove to Memphis for Unforgiven in 2007. It was a spur of the moment decision, and I paid for the tickets. We had the best seats for any WWE show we'd ever had: on the ramp barrier, second row. If you were facing the ring from the entrance way, we were on the left. And it was a jolly good thing mom was with me - she had to calm me down after Triple H saw my sign ("I Came for the Game") and reached out and touched my hand. Just mine. Mom and I walked around Memphis before the show, it was a beautiful day. We carried our chairs back to the hotel, which was in walking distance, and more than once we were asked what the chairs were for. We still have both chairs.

May 2000: My Graduation Day. She was so proud.

When my friend, and first boyfriend, Andrew, passed away in January 2008, once mom saw I was determined to attend the funeral, she went with me and supported me. Aside from Nannie's death in 2002, and Grandma Dorothy's (dad's mom) in 2006, Andrew's was the hardest up to that point. We had been friends, meeting on America Online, in 1997 and he had claimed to have been in love with me since then, but we didn't get together until 2002 after my grandmother had passed. Our little under two years together was rocky (due to the distance and my impatience), but mom did all she could to support us. She was the one who did research on his form of cancer, neuroblastoma, and therefore knew what the eventual consequences would be. I didn't want to accept it, but we did finally break up in early 2004. Four years later, I attended his funeral with momma by my side. His family was so wonderful towards us and I have never forgotten this. Mom supported me as I broke down and grieved for the first love and the friend I had lost.

When I made plans in 2010 to attend SHIMMER for the first time, she was dead set against it. At one point she said, "You don't even know what really goes on up there!" - as if it was some big orgy of sex and violence or something. Up to that point, I had usually let her fears combine with my own to keep me from doing new things. And she had a right to be anxious, as everyone I would 'know' in Berwyn I only knew through Twitter and Facebook. I'd never met any of them in person. But for the first time, I kept my determination and went. Obviously, it turned out okay, and from then on mom had less anxiety when I went. Although she didn't quite expect me to become involved in only my second relationship as a result of that trip. Another long distance relationship, except this one involved an ocean being between us. From the start, despite being happy at how happy I was, mom wasn't 100% supportive. She never said anything to make me doubt, but she was never keen to discuss it and at times talked to me about how it could be years before anything permanent could be done. Unfortunately, 2011 was one of her worst years health-wise, and despite going to Las Vegas with dad while myself, Lee and our friends were there on vacation, she wasn't in a good condition to meet him properly. We had dinner together, but I could tell from the beginning she wasn't in a good place. And when I flew to England to visit him for a week, she was scared to death. But, ironically enough, when I had finally convinced her that I was patient enough to see this through and she was ready to not only accept but encourage our relationship in any way that she could, Lee and I broke up in February 2012. As always, mom was there helping me deal with the turmoil of emotions I experienced during the subsequent months. And as I started to go to other wrestling shows that were short drives away, she encouraged me to go. She was happy that I was getting out of the house.

In October 2012, I had my worst SHIMMER experience to date, not due to the shows or the after party, but going back to the hotel alone afterwards. However, thanks to mom, a week later I flew to Montreal for Femmes Fatales X and had one of the best times of my life with my friend Chris. Momma loaned me the money for the airplane ticket. It was entirely due to her that I was able to go. There was very little my mother was not willing to do for me. Sure, I was undoubtedly spoiled for the majority of my life, but from her I developed a generous, giving spirit. To this day, if I can help a friend with anything be it money, time, attention, whatever, I don't hesitate. That comes from mom.

(Left) In Washington in '09. (Right) My 18th birthday May 2000.

We took several trips to visit relatives in Virginia Beach, and in Tennessee. I can remember one trip we were coming back, just the two of us, from Tennessee, and we were stuck behind a long row of cars on a strip of highway in the mountains. Mom was getting increasingly frustrated at how slow they were going and wondered what the cause of it was. At one point, she said, "I swear, I'm going to kill the person who is responsible for this backup!" Finally, she decided to go around them and as we got to the front of the line of cars, I started laughing hysterically. It was a hearse. We had been stuck behind a funeral procession. I told mom, "Well looks like you can't kill them - they're already dead!" That was a story that never failed to get a laugh. Those car trips were always fun and it's where I developed a love of road travel. There were certain places we stopped every time we went there and back. A few years ago, my parents and I as well as my sister's ex-husband, Shannon and Zack went to Florida for a week. It was wonderful! Mom, dad and Shannon went para sailing, and me and mom swam with dolphins. She loved that. After Nannie passed away in May 2002, in September, my great Aunt Marie and Uncle Louis took her to Italy for two weeks, to meet our family there in Montefiascone (Nannie's father, Guido Maragoni, had traveled on a boat to come to America) and sight see in Rome. That was the best trip of her life, at least until her and I went to New York City for the first time properly (she had been once before, when she was 17, but it was only for two days) in September 2012. Our trip together there was magical. We packed a lot in for a week, taking a tour of the harbor, seeing the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island; shopping, relaxing. In the fall of 2009, my parents and I went to Washington DC and did a lot of sight seeing before driving down to see our relatives in Virginia Beach. We had a lot of travels, saw so much together, and experienced many unforgettable things..

Bottle feeding Spike. She loved that spunky kitten!

Through her, I developed a love of almost every animal. Mom always opened her home to any stray that came her way, or would help them find good, loving homes. My first cat was a stray, as was Shannon's. She was a lifelong member of the Kentucky Humane Society and the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals. She never hesitated to donate to them, something that I have taken up doing. Compassion and gentleness towards animals is something she never hesitated to show.

Nannie and Mom at a Tom Jones concert. Beautiful smiles.

Everything that I am, I owe to mom. Watching her care for Nannie as my grandmother spent the last six weeks of her life in April 2002 from cancer, I learned true strength. Watching her choose each day to not give into temptation, I learned dedication. Each time she refused to pass judgment on someone struggling with their own demons, I learned compassion. Each time she did something that she was terrified to do, I learned courage. By knowing her and her past thoroughly, and only loving her more throughout the years, I learned unconditional love. By being loved and supported by her when I made decisions on my own, for good or for ill, I learned how to love unconditionally. By caring for her in progressively larger ways since 2006, I learned patience. Through her love of animals and support for various charities, I learned tenderness and generosity. By working side by side with her at my first job, I developed a strong work ethic. I learned loyalty and bravery and independence from her.

Every good quality I have, every positive trait I have developed...it's all due to my momma. In the later years, as her health went through increasing bad spots, I was there to help keep track of her medical problems, her medications, doctor appointments. When her hand writing wasn't good, I did the bills and took over keeping track of the checkbook. On the weekends I would help clean the house when she wasn't feeling well. Taking care of the woman who had raised me, loved me, and took care of me became my purpose in life. And, although at times it was frustrating, I never resented it or hated it. Rather, I saw it as my reason for living. After all, she gave me life - the prospect of putting her off onto someone else was never an option.

Mom and Zack - a proud, happy grandmother.

I love my momma. And I am beyond proud to be her daughter. I am proud of the fact she faced her drug addiction and overcame it. I am proud she never let her medical issues drag her under. I am proud that she lived an exciting, vibrant life. And I am proud that, according to her counselor Leo, I am the reason she wanted to get and stay sober. He told me in recent emails that her love for me was a source of strength that enabled her to prevail; I was instrumental in her recovery because she loved me and wanted to be the mother I deserved.

The life of the party!

From the moment I was born until the day she died, she was nothing less than the perfect mother. If I can be half the woman that she is, it will be enough. I treasure the memories of us together, our trips, the laughter and the fun. And I know that she is not truly gone...her blood runs through my veins. Her spirit is with me. Right now, I simply exist and take advantage of the fun moments that life provides...and one day, maybe I will find another purpose in life.

I love you mom. I miss you. I will always love you and always miss you. I hope I can make you proud. You always made me proud. Always.

The locket was my great-grandmother's. It contains pictures of Nannie (her daughter) and Mitzie (Nannie's dog). The fingerprint is my mom's - the funeral home made imprints of her pinkie and put them on silver for my dad, Shannon and I. I never take these off, except to sleep and shower. They are always with me..