09.19.2010
On Sunday, September 19, 2010, a beautiful sunny football Sunday in New York, I lost my mother. She would have been thrilled to know that her beloved Jets were beating the Patriots.
For six years she fought cancer like a warrior. She endured numerous surgeries and setbacks, and dug in and fought for her life because it was worth fighting for. She did it bravely, and gracefully, and with a smile on her face. Despite the challenges that she faced she lived her life passionately and joyfully.
In those six years I got more time with my mother. It was great time; not tinged with sadness but filled with an appreciation for time and for shared experiences and with an acknowledgement of how lucky we were to have each other.
Maybe most importantly, my son Everett got to know and love his grandmother. They played and they laughed and he hugged and kissed her enough to make up for the time that he won’t have with her as he grows up. I can only hope that he’ll remember how lucky he was to have Judy Foster as his grandmother, his playmate, and his friend.
My first memories of my mom are of long, long blonde hair and smiles and hugs and kisses. As a single mother my mom worked tirelessly to make sure that I was safe, happy and loved. As cliché as it is, she never missed a game, and there were lots of them. Mom was my greatest champion, supporting me and loving me unconditionally. I knew always that my mother was proud of me, and that is a feeling that every child should have.
Our house was a place where hugs and kisses and “I love you’s” were abundant. That example has bled into my parenting of Everett, and of all my son’s qualities of which I’m proud, the fact that he’s affectionate and loving and sweet is paramount. If Traci and I can make sure that our son knows every day how much he is loved and how much support and admiration he has from his parents we’ll have done good work and honored my mom’s life by following her example.
As I have grown up and created my own life my mother has remained my greatest friend and fan. She has supported, offered counsel (solicited or otherwise), and continued to cheer my victories and reassure me through my defeats. She has been the very best friend a person could ask for and I am sad that I’ve lost that. Her number has always been the one that I’ve dialed when I was excited, when I was in doubt, or when I just wanted to shoot the breeze. Over the days and months and years to come I know that I’ll grab the phone in anticipation of dialing her number and having a nice chat or sharing exciting news, and I’ll be heartbroken that I’ve lost my friend.
In short, Judy Foster was one hell of a great lady. As I told her the very last time that I saw her; she was “hot shit”. I’m so proud of how she lived her life and I could not be more blessed to have been her son and her friend. I will miss her dearly for the rest of my life and I can only hope that the life that I lead will make her proud and honor her memory. I will always feel her with me, hear her voice in the back of my head, and talk to her when I need the ear that only she could provide.
