Mom wasn’t cut out for motherhood when it was thrust upon her nine months after she graduated from college.  It wasn’t easy trying to tame three young kids while seeking the peace and quiet she desperately longed for.  It was tough on all of us. 

It wasn’t much better when we grew up and had lives of our own.  There was just too much baggage.  We formed our own families and we moved on.  Mom did too.  

And then she got a do over and her name was Luba.

I didn’t really understand who she was and why she was part of my parents’ lives.  Mutual friends had introduced Luba to my parents to help out with the house because Pearline had become too old to clean. Luba was all they talked about. She was wonderful and beautiful and smart and kind.  Luba this and Luba that. Was she some sort of con artist who was going to rob my parents blind?  Or even worse, was she going to break their hearts? I was very suspicious.

Then I met her and she put my suspicions to rest. She was the real deal.  A sweet little girl who had come to the United States to be an au pair and had decided to stay. And she sincerely cared about my parents.

Luba quickly became part of our family and vice versa. Not long after she came on the scene, she married Roman. Mom was so proud of both of them and gladly accepted Roman into her flock.  When Luba had a baby, Ania also became part of the family.  Pictures of Luba, Roman and Ania dotted the hunt table in our den along with the other family photos. Luba loved my mother. Mom taught her how to cook, gave her marital advice, showered her with affection, loved on her.  In turn, Luba doted on my Mom, looked up to her, sought her counsel and admired her in a way we never could.

When Mom was in the ICU for two weeks before her death, Luba sat with her every moment of every day that she wasn’t nursing her baby.  Mom couldn’t talk because of all of the tubes everywhere, but her face would light up when Luba walked in the room.  At the end, when we removed the tubes that were breathing for Mom, it was Melisse and Luba who sat by Mom’s side for five hours until she took her last breath.

So Luba is family.  She gave my parents so much over the seven years she cared for first my mother and then my Dad. She gave my mother something we never could, the chance to be a good mother, and instead of being jealous or hurt, I’m grateful. Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.