Full Circle

The gang in this picture became my family after my mom passed away. 

Dianna, the stylish blond in glasses in the center of this picture, was a hairdresser and my mom worked as an office manager.  They were both funny, fabulous, and dynamic people. 

Dianna was my mom’s best friend. She was a single mom, like mine, and our units naturally fell into a rhythm of friendship and eventually family.  My mom met Dianna through a mutual friend. Dianna had recently moved back to Tucson as a single mom to three children. 

As is the case, far too many times for single mamas’, things were tight financially for both Dianna and my mom, but my mom was generous, loyal, and kind. She was the type of person that would do whatever she could to help others out.  She would buy extra groceries and drop them off their house. Dianna and the kids would come over for dinner during the week. And every weekend my mom would scour the newspaper for free things for us all to go do, which led to many adventures around southern AZ. My mom would host Thanksgiving and Dianna would do Christmas Eve. These became my holiday traditions growing up.

When Danielle (my sister from another mister) met me, I was in a highchair with mustard all over my face. I was like a wild animal. Danielle is four years older than me, and l idolized her like any little sister does her cooler, older sister. 

In addition to being kind, my mom was also a very proud and independent woman. So as cancer weakened and changed her it challenged her sense of dignity.  She became angry and withdrawn and she began to push Dianna away. I have grace and empathy for the ways my mom practiced self-preservation in ways that didn’t serve her. It was how she coped with the pain and fear.  But as a result, I too was isolated and there was a period where I did not see Danielle, the boys, or Dianna.

When Dianna discovered the how sick my mom actually was, and learned that I had been taking care of my mom alone- she stepped right back in and never looked back. 

In fact, all of them did. 

My brother Darin and Danielle would take my mom to radiation, physical therapy, and doctor’s appointments. Dianna helped arrange for a hospital bed to be placed in the living room and created accessibility in the house. They all came in and picked up the pieces I was struggling to take care of on my own. 

And when my mom went into the hospital, it was Danielle who stayed with me. It was Dianna who sat in the hospital with my mom, she conferred with doctors, and even made my mom set up a will. And it was Dianna who told me my mom was dying. 

When my mom passed, I was given the option of who I wanted to live with. Dianna was the only choice that made sense, the only one who had been there.  It wasn’t that I was bonded to Dianna per se, she was my mom’s friend, but I was bonded to the family that we all were. 

Time and again Dianna and her kids demonstrated that friendship, family, and love is chosen.  They chose to step in and step up when there was no obligation to do so.  They are not my kin, we are not blood, but we make the conscious choice to be each other’s people. It is a powerful and beautiful lesson.

My mom made the choice to be generous, loyal, and kind and that resulting friendship between two mothers’ bloomed into a family big enough to hold me too.