The Most Important Lesson I Ever Learned

Tuesday, June 22 marks the 10th anniversary of the death of my mother. I see your reflection in the mirror and in the eyes of my children. I also see you in the rainbows -- from the first double rainbow I ever saw in my life exactly a week after your death to the end of the rainbow that touched down in the street outside the restaurant where your youngest son's rehearsal dinner was being held a year after your death. You've found ways to let me know it will be okay. I've only had one dream about you ... and it was so real. We hugged and you asked "Can you see me?" "Yes, and I can feel you, too," I replied. I hope to dream of you again. I miss you and think of you every day.

The Most Important Lesson I Ever Learned
(Originally published in the Orlando Sentinel, July 10, 2000)

The most important lesson I ever learned is one that I am learning right now. My mother’s sudden and unexpected death on June 22, 2000, turned my world upside down. My mother was the heart and soul of our family, and all of our hearts were broken that day. But she taught me so much during her life, and in death she is teaching me still.

Throughout my 40 years, there were many times I wondered how my mother could be content with her life. She was a stay-at-home mom who never worked outside the home after she married my father 44 years ago. And her favorite “exotic destination” was the lushly-landscaped swimming pool in her very own backyard. How could that be rewarding enough? I spent 20 years juggling a demanding career and a family and trying to manage the stress that went with life in the fast lane. But she always knew what I have only recently realized — making a difference in the life of a child is far more noble and rewarding than any career could ever be.

My parents have often been asked for their “secret formula” for raising kids. They raised four of us. Today each of us is personally fulfilled and professionally successful in our own rights … a surgeon, a public relations professional, a successful salesman and an engineer “whiz kid.” And not one of us has ever been in trouble with the law! No small feat for any parents! Of course there were some trials and tribulations along the way, including a new baby in 1973 when my mother was 40 (way before it was fashionable to be 40 and pregnant). But risks, plans or finances weren’t a consideration for my parents — family was the most important thing. And though I know there were times along the way when our parents probably didn’t like us very much, there was never a time that any one of us ever doubted that we were truly, unconditionally loved. And our parents always made sure that we knew how very proud they were of each and every one of us. There was no big secret — they just filled our lives with love and laughter and everything else took care of itself.

The last book that my mother read was one that I shared with her, “Tuesdays with Morrie.” A passage from that book is so profound … “As long as we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on — in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here. Death ends a life, not a relationship.”

My mother’s death has changed the way I will live the rest of my life. I will no longer let the little things bother me, my family will never come second again, and I will not put things off until tomorrow.

And so, while my mother, Phyllis Portoghese, did not lead a corporation or travel the world, she touched the lives of so many. And as her children and our children continue to touch the lives of others, her memory and her purpose lives on. That is her legacy. That is the most important lesson I will ever learn.

Mother's Day -- Bittersweet for Motherless Daughters

I rushed into the grocery store and headed toward the deli. The strategically placed Mother’s Day card display did exactly what it was supposed to do ... it stopped me in my tracks. And then I quietly broke down into tears. I navigated my way through the grocery store with bleary eyes, loaded the groceries into my car, and then sobbed all the way home. It’s strange how the most wonderful days can also be the most bittersweet. While I’m thrilled that I am a mother and I know that my children are planning my annual celebration, I mourn the loss of my own mom.

This year marks my tenth Mother’s Day as a motherless daughter. My mother’s sudden and unexpected death on June 22, 2000 turned my world upside down. In hindsight, my mom really was a heart attack waiting to happen. She had all the risk factors ... a sedentary lifestyle, overweight, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and she was a social smoker for decades.

I will remember the last week of my mom’s life for the rest of mine. I can only describe everything that happened as “surreal.” She wasn’t feeling well, but like so many women, my mother ignored the signs of a heart attack (chest pressure, difficulty breathing, pain in her arm, nausea). When, according to the American Heart Association, heart disease and strokes are actually the number one killer of women. In fact, one in 2.5 women die of heart disease, stroke and other cardiovascular diseases, compared with one in 30 who die of breast cancer.

It seemed so unfair to lose someone so young—my mother was only 67 when she died. I figured I had 20 to 30 more years with her. I fully expected her to cry at my daughter’s wedding and hold my grandchildren in her arms. We all have struggled with our “if onlys” and “should haves.” If only she had gone to the doctor earlier, perhaps they could have figured out what was wrong. If only I had been there, I know CPR. But “if onlys’” can drive you crazy.

But my mom taught me so much during her life, and in death she is teaching me still. Her death has changed the way I will live the rest of my life. I will no longer let the little things bother me, my family will never come second again, and I will not put things off until tomorrow. And I also try to take good care of myself. I encourage other women to do the same.

And so, while my mother, Phyllis Portoghese, did not lead a corporation or travel the world, she touched the lives of so many. And as her children and our children continue to touch the lives of others, her memory and her purpose lives on. That is her legacy. I have made it mine.

On Friday May 7, I will support the fight against heart disease by wearing red and attending the Go Red For Women Mother’s Day luncheon in Orlando. In past years, I actually shared my mother’s story ... and I share it again here in the hope that it will encourage other women to take care of themselves and never to ignore the symptoms. It’s a message from the heart.