Sunday, May 08, 2005

Happy Mother's Day

Pat Hogue

Born: March 7, 1941
Died: October 25, 1992

Born Patricia Jean Sennewald in Ann Arbor, Michigan to my grandfather Fred Sennewald and his wife Josephine. Youngest of three siblings born in that marriage, and youngest of 5 children born to Fred.

My mom was just a small girl when Josephine was killed in a car accident. The woman she would grow up knowing as 'Mother' was really her aunt (Josephine's sister) Mary.

Life threw another wrinkle at her when at age 7 she was diagnosed with Diabetes Mellitus after falling into a diabetic coma. She would learn to live with the disease and work to build a life for herself in spite of it.

She married my father in April, 1961 barely a month past her 20th birthday. Nearly five years and much frustration and apprehension later, her only son was born a short four days before Christmas 1965.

Her life and that of my father's as well changed forever in 1976 when both met Christ. Over the next 16 years she would become more and more a reflection of Him and it is that woman, that mother that I remember most and best when I think of her.

The joyous smile, the encouraging words and foremost, the example of grace as she lived with a disease that slowly and maliciously ate at her body. Those are my lasting memories.

My mother spent near the entire last decade of her life fighting the complications of her disease. She grew up in a time, and was treated as such, when the prevailing wisdom in treating Diabetes was simply to keep the patient out of coma, balance blood glucose as best as possible and know that the complications that were well known were simply inevitable; a view that has been disproved in the last 15 years.

In that decade she contended with eye surgery, renal shut-down and even neuropathy and amputations. After 44 years, she finally succumbed to a heart-attack at home one Sunday night.

While not nearly as difficult as in the years right after, I still even after a dozen times struggle on this day. It doesn't bring the same pain or intense sadness as it did those early years, but now the sense of loss is deeper. I'm more aware of the things that she has missed and that I cannot share with her here.

I miss my mom.

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