I understand your pain better than many. My own mother helpe dme to enjoy cards and life equally.
I post very little as i prefer listening-- but maybe the below helps. It helped me grief wise as its reading and rereading reminds me of what we were able to enjoy during our time together.
MY TRIBUTE TO MY MOTHER ( written Nov 17,2010)
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She was there in the stands every game, quiet, unassuming, not one to bother others. A woman of quiet dignity, full of remarkable patience and an inner joy at seeing children at play, this fan was hardcore. No game went by where she was not present in the stands. Even at the expense of sleep, or of physical hardship required of a lupus sufferer, this fan let nothing interfere with the game itself. She taught herself its basics, not wanting to upset the pureness by inviting stats or meaningless explanations into the equation.
The joy of seeing one of her own children play the game was there, but mostly she enjoyed the games themselves. New England baseball had a way of showing the games pureness by its short season, its fluky & sometimes inclement weather, and its food. No fancy vegetarian mixes, no made up fake microwaved item, just baseball pure hotdogs, hamburger or cheeseburgers, and the occasional sausage & peppers were allowed. Gum was prohibited, instead licorice was allowed in its place. Soda was okay, water was preferred, and no one could tell her where to sit she had her spot well before they even arrived.
The fan made every game each child's career, and despite the differences in success enjoyed by each child, the fan made it seem they all were all-star & multiple MVP players. The fan complimented teammates, always making sure the opposing teams mothers were remembered by name, dishing out the good will so everyone felt it did not matter what the final score amounted to. And it worked.
The fan saw her last game in the mid 80's, with all her children grown and into adulthood she retreated to the couch. Her health had always been an issue = lupus sufferers have good days & they have horrible days. A good day is one the pain is controllable by meds, a bad one where only prescribed high level pain killers could mask the suffering. The fan endured it all, and very few knew of her suffering so skilled was she at masking it. No one suspected that every game she attended for her children required usage of what she called "spoons"--- and she had few of those- yet used them all for her children.
The fan was happy she had succeeded at doing the right things and her many admirers ratified that view.
The fan watched as succeeding generations began to lose the pureness factor,cell phones at first, then more insidious devices . The fan was mortified to see others more intent on answering some meaningless email than watching a moment to remember in their child's life go by. How could the other fans remember the look on the child's face if they were occupied with distractions? This saddened the fan yet she maintained hope some would keep the purity there somehow, someway.
The fan gave to the world everything they could give, and to this admirer more than they could ever repay, teaching baseball at its purest and a level of sportsmanship & conduct few today possess.
Why do I tell the world this stuff?
The fans health had declined further until last night on Nov 16th, 2010 at 6:16 pm Eastern time the heart of this fan could go no further and gave out.
The fan was my mother. God rest her soul . I hope others had a fan like her. She will be missed by this baseball fan for the rest of my life
Jeff