In Memoriam- Becoming SuperMommy
|The SuperMommy Family|
That she was a fighter? That no matter how bleak the doctors' pronouncements, she refused to believe her fiance had fewer than two years to live? That she stood by his side and refused to acknowledge the odds until he had beaten them and become a husband, father, and brain cancer survivor? That after countless setbacks, she returned to school and finished her degree, graduating at nine months pregnant with twin two year old daughters cheering her on?
One could say that Becoming SuperMommy was a lover. A lover of music, and literature, and Cadbury Creme Eggs. That she never met a bar of chocolate she didn't like, except that one month of her second pregnancy when chocolate inexplicably tasted like fish food and she nearly killed her husband for impregnating her with devil spawn.
She was a doting mother, who (despite her deep rooted hatred for all things pink and frilly and associated with princesses) indulged her daughters' every tutu clad or Cinderella costumed fantasy. She always strove to show her daughters the best of herself, from taking them to blood drives to teaching them, "We don't say 'I can't,' we say 'I will try!'"
|The SuperMommy clan in happier times|
In the course of three days, she erected an enormous rainbow layered cake, made to their specifications, with rainbow roses and Care Bears constructed from Martha Stewart's improbable meringue buttercream frosting, hosted a birthday party for a dozen small children, and attempted her final feat- the clandestine construction of a bunk bed in their small bedroom.
She never wavered from her purpose. With the same resolve she showed day in and day out, fighting the insurance company and the Walgreen's pharmacy technicians for her husband's chemotherapy, or sewing endless cartridge pleats in a linen skirt with a Hawthorn needle because it was historically accurate, she ushered her children out of the house with their grandparents and set to the task of assembling a flat packed Ikea bunk bed.
|The fatal cake|
Nobody will ever know for sure.
But when the door finally opened, there it was- the finished bunk bed. And Becoming SuperMommy lay near death on the floor, beaming proudly and the perfectly folded covers, and the delighted children who ran, not to her, but to swiftly dismantle any bits of hardware that weren't firmly glued down.
She gazed at her children and smiled, before offering her last words, "I love you."
|The motherless lambs|
Maintaining the sense of humor that sustained them through cancer treatments, a placental abruption, a uterine rupture, post partum depression, and driving at least six hours to celebrate every Passover with her family and Christmas with his - her widower has agreed to honor her last requests.
As Becoming SuperMommy neglected to update the document detailing her wishes for her funeral since a teenage goth phase, her will stipulates that she is to be transported to the cemetery via polka dotted hearse, to the sound of Grieg's "In the Hall of the Mountain King" at 100 decibels.
Additionally, a VHS tape of Becoming SuperMommy performing "I'll Cover You" from Rent and "Runaway Train" by Soul Asylum, accapella and alone in her bedroom, will play after the eulogies are finished.
and her widower
"Mommy was angry a whole lot, and she always pooed in the potty," one four year old remembered, while the other laughed and nodded. "Mommy was silly! She gave me band-aids and helped me find my frog!" The fifteen month old flailed her arms and remembered her mother fondly. "Book! Book! Book!"
To overcome their grief, her children would like a puppy. In the event that she faked her own death in order to find the free time to finish her book, her husband would like a new Xbox and a case of Scotch.
It is her wish that, rather than sending flowers or even live plants that her widower would undoubtedly fail to water, donations can be made in her name to RAINN, Postpartum Progress, and the American Cancer Society.
|If Becoming SuperMommy is found hiding out in a cabin and writing, please alert her family.|
Her children will no doubt want a grilled cheese sandwich.
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