What I Love Most Today is my mom...

My mom would have been 59 years old today, November 4th.  She's been gone now for a year and  a half.  It's so hard to believe, still.  I wrote about her last November, and as I just took a quick moment to re-read my words they were short and sweet.  I didn't write much about her life or our life together.  This time, I will take the opportunity to write a little more personally and in depth, for my sake, for my families sake and for those that loved her. 

Her full name was Judith Eileen Myatt.  She was named after Judy Garland, as her mother adored the actress.  My mom was born in Los Angeles, California on November 4th, 1954.  Her mother stayed at home with her and her two brothers, while her dad worked as an engineer.  They did well and lived in Chatsworth. 
 

My mom was raised as a strict Catholic.  She participated in all of her Holy Communions, went to church every Sunday and attended Mass on weekdays, all with her family.  She was a member of her high School drill team, Chatsworth High School.  My mom and dad met here at Chatsworth High School below. 

My dad was actually friends with her younger brother, my Uncle Dan.  My mom and dad began dating.  When I was born my mom was 23 and my dad was 21.  They weren't married and they went their separate ways by the time I was two years old. 
 

So the journey began.  My mom's journey as a single parent and alcoholic with her young daughter.  My dad was also an alcoholic and so together, the both of them drinking was too much.  My mom chose to raise me in Van Nuys, Los Angeles in California.  Not for away from where both of my parents grew up.  I saw my dad every other weekend and spent most summers with him. 

This is one of the few pictures I have of my mom and dad where they really look happy.  I don't remember them together really, only through pictures. 
 

I won't go into too much detail as most people can guess what it's like living with an alcoholic.  I will say it was hard.  I loved my mom.  I saw her do things, say things and go through things that were sad and difficult.  All the while, she tried her hardest to work, cope and raise me.  It wasn't a very happy time.  I was young but I felt old because I had so much worry, heartache, on top of having the typical needs of a young child. 

One evening my mom basically lost her senses.  She had been drinking and she spiraled into a rage and I had to get out.  I was nine years old.  I somehow managed to find the phone to call my grandparents.  They came immediately.  As my grandparents drove away, I looked into our front window and saw my mom sobbing in front our fireplace mantel, holding a picture of me in her hand.  I will never forget this image.  It is branded in my memory. 

My mom checked herself into the Valley Presbyterian rehab center.  She was gone for most of the summer and I didn't see her much either that summer, while she was recovering. My mom was amazing.  She got sober and never looked back.  When she died she had 26 years of sobriety, and not once did she ever "slip" and take a drink.  I think of my mom as one of the most courageous people I know because she knew what was at stake and she fought for it.  She got sober to get healthy but she also got sober so that she could keep her daughter.  She's amazing.
 

By the time my mom got sober I was ten years old.  She met a wonderful man in Alcoholics Anonymous named Jerry Kozeluh.  He loved my mom and she loved him, very much.  I remember feeling so happy for my mom, to have found someone to love her, to care for her and to help her stay on her path of sobriety. 

As I began to grow up, my mom and I had a hard time.  Maybe it goes without saying.  Just that living with an alcoholic for years creates barriers, wedges, and a lack of bonding.  I was also a teenager and my mom tried her best. 

(My mom and step-dad married on May 21st, 1988)
 

Vacationing in Encinada, Mexico, their favorite place.
 

One of my favorite pictures of them two. 
 

And my number one favorite picture of them both together. 

As I said above, my mom tried her best.  We journeyed through thick and thin.  Early on my life wasn't ideal.  But, so be it.  My mom was an example of courage and triumph.  She looked at her problems head on, got the help she needed and moved on.  I love her for this.  She saved both of our lives. 

After she married Jerry life was happier.  For the first time I felt secure and taken care of and I know my mom did too.  We were a family.  I still saw my dad on a regular basis.  My step dad wasn't a replacement for my dad, but it was so nice living with a good man and seeing his love for my mom.  In 1991 my mom had a baby son.  They named him James and he is my half brother.  I was thirteen when he was born. 

The rest is history.  I was a hard teenager, my mom and I fought constantly and then when I was 17 years old she had a stroke.  She went into the hospital and didn't come back home for a month and a half.  She had several brain surgeries and it was a miracle she lived.  She came home the day of my high school graduation. 

After high school I left home.  I moved up north to go to college.  There I met my husband and we started our life together after being married in 1999.  My mom still had a son to raise.  James was only five when I went to college and he was eight when I was married.  My mom, James and Jerry were a happy family.  We visited often with one another during various times of the year and for holidays.  As my brother grew up I was having my own babies.  Tragically, around the time of my second daughters birth, my step-dad Jerry passed away of Prostate Cancer.  He left my mom and brother behind.  My mom was devastated.  But, she tried her best to raise her son, who was 15, ironically as a single parent again.  She did a fantastic job.  My brother is a wonderful young man. 

On July 6th, 2012 I got a call from my brother James.  He was sobbing and managed to tell me that our mom was dead.  I couldn't believe the words.  It's the closest thing I've had to an outer body experience.  As a matter of fact, I felt like it was so sudden there might be a way to turn back time for just a second so that I could say goodbye to her, one last time.  But that wasn't to be.  My mom was gone. 

Today we're not sure what took my mom.  As we opted out of the autopsy, I'm sure she died of another stroke.  And this time her "will" to live was not so strong.  It is my feeling that she wanted badly to be with her husband again.  My mom missed her late husband so, as she often told me. 

This will be the last paragraph, but the best one of all.  You see all this time I had a mom.  I loved my mom, but to be honest I didn't know the love I had for her until she died.  Why didn't I know that my mom was one of the greatest loves of my life?  We were mother and daughter.  We had hard times, but we also had great times.  We shopped together, we laughed together, we joked, she called me, I called her- to hear her loving, familiar voice.  She came to see my children born, she cooked for me, she cleaned for me, she cared for me and gave what she knew how, to me.  I miss her dearly.  Not a day goes by that I don't think of her and I doubt a day will ever go by that I don't remember her in some way.  We really became friends as I got older and had my own family.  And for this I am ever grateful.  Just grateful that I knew my mom as a friend, someone that I could turn to.  It may seem odd to some that I include the hard times in this story.  But, I think it's necessary because truly, who I am today is due not only in part because of the great times, but also because of the hard times.   My mom was wonderful.  She was human and she made the best of her life, I'm just so thankful that I could be included in it.  I love you mom, more and more...forever.  Happy Birthday. 

What I Love Most Today is my mom.

(Judith Eileen Myatt...November 4, 1954-July 6, 2012)