Learning to “Appreciate Things in the Moment,” in Memory of Mom
Gary Bezucha and Diane Bezucha
Transcript
INTRO: Life was never dull with my mom, Janet Bezucha. Growing up with five brothers, she learned to hold her own in life, never backing down from a challenge. She demanded a lot from the people in her life, and her fiery temper was matched only by her spontaneity and sense of adventure. When she met my dad, Gary Bezucha, in college, they fell instantly in love. They got married, had two kids, and Janet was the glue that held our family together. So we were devastated when my mom was diagnosed with brain cancer in 2014, eventually succumbing to the disease in 2016. While life has not been the safe without her, she lives on in everything she has taught us.
Gary Bezucha (70) and his daughter Diane Bezucha (36) came to StoryCorps to remember their wife and mom, Janet.
Diane Bezucha (DB): I always remember her laughing
Gary Bezucha (GB): She used to have me help her fold sheets. And you know, we'd each have two corners.
DB: Yeah.
GB: And, she would snap it out of your hands, and then laugh like a loon. She thought that was the funniest thing on earth.
DB: Mom had this spontaneity about her, and I loved that.
GB: I remember that time that we drove out to deliver furniture to you. It took us three days to drive from here to San Francisco, but we had fun being together. And I remember talking about driving home, she said, “I really don't want to drive through Nevada again. It's the most boring drive I've ever had.” I said, “Well, how are we going to get a home?” And she said, “You know, we're in the neighborhood. Why don't we go and visit John in Portland, Oregon. That's a 10 hour drive.” So we did it. We saw him then drove back through Montana and it was a beautiful drive. We had a great time.
What do you think you learned from mom?
DB: I remember at girl scout camp they asked everyone to get partners. I had two friends there and the three of us immediately grouped together, leaving one girl without a partner. Mom picked me up that day and when I told her about that incident, she asked me, “How do you think she felt when that happened? And has that ever happened to you?” And I don't remember what I described. But days later, I was listening to the radio and that song that goes, “Everybody hurts, sometimes...
GB: Oh, that’s REM
DB: ...and I started crying because I thought of that girl. I don't think it's anything to do with grade school quarrels, but I thought, I made somebody hurt. That was wrong. And I don't think I would have felt that way if mom hadn't taught me to reflect on how my actions impact other people.
DB: What do you remember from that night that I called and told you that mom had a brain tumor?
DB: I was out with friends from work. And when you said you were at the hospital, my first thought was that mom had been in a car accident, and my heart kind of stopped. And then I walked home, and John called me.
GB: I mean, we knew that there was something wrong with mom, because she was having trouble finding words. And, I was initially relieved to find out she wasn't having a stroke. But then when they said they found a brain tumor, everything just started happening so fast.
DB: You know, the thing that sucks about cancer is that it's a fight. And so immediately, I think I went into like, what can we do mode and let's be positive. And I think that never left me an opportunity to say goodbye. By the time I was willing to admit that the fight was over it was too late.
GB: Yeah
DB: And I regret that. Did you ever have a chance to say goodbye?
GB: Yeah, I did. When she went into the hospital, she gave me a card that she had written out and it was just the most beautiful card. She just talked about how much she loved me and how much we meant to each other and I think I read that card 100 times.
DB: You still have it?
GB: Oh, yeah. I remember that Mother's Day just before she died when you came home. You took her out for a manicure and pedicure. She had fun that day.
DB: We had a good time.
GB: At that point in her illness. She didn't have a lot of fun days and I think she remembered that.
DB: At the time, I told mom, “I met this guy and I really like him.” And her communication was starting to slip. She turned to me and said, “Well, there's other fish in the sea.” And I just laughed and I said, “Yeah, you're right.” And I didn't realize at the time how right she was.
GB: Yeah, it must have been frustrating for her. I remember one day she got up to go to the bathroom and she just couldn't get her legs to move. So I tried to get up and help her and we ended up going into your room. And we both just laid down on the bed and she just put her head on my shoulder and cried and we just laid there for a long time.
DB: When do you find yourself missing her most?
GB: Every night when I go to bed. So many things happen that it occurs to me, “Geez, I gotta tell Jan about that,” and I can't. For the first six months after she died, I used to write a letter to her every day. And sometimes I go back in and I read those letters. It's almost like a relief valve on grief. I think if you let too much of it build up it'll kill you. And that's how I used to kind of bleed off some of it every day by just talking to her and telling her how much I missed her.
What do you do to keep her alive in your memory?
DB: I always wash my hands. One of the strongest memories I have of her is writing thank you notes. We would have to sit down and write a rough draft.
GB: That was agony.
DB: It wasn't just like a, “Hey Auntie Joe. Thanks for the gift. Love Diane,” we had to say what we liked about the gift, how we used it, we had to ask how the person was doing. And once it was approved, then we would get the actual note card and she would draw faint lines with a ruler and we would write our thank you note in pencil first and then when everything was good, we could trace over it in pen and then gently erase the pencil lines. I don't write a lot of physical thank you notes anymore, but I send emails or calls or texts and I always make time to be grateful and to appreciate the people in my life.
GB: You know, when you think you're gonna have somebody around forever, and suddenly you don't have them anymore, you begin to think about what's really important in life and you realize that it's happiness and relationships that are important.
DB: I noticed that turn in you after mom died, to embrace whatever makes you happy and I appreciated that. I think that helped me make some really positive changes in my life—going back to school and changing careers. I just wonder what mom would think if she'd be proud.
GB: She was always proud of you, and she'd be even prouder today. I do have a different worldview since she died. I think I appreciate things in the moment much more. I wish I had known that a long time ago, but I'm happy I know that now.
OUTRO: That was Gary Bezucha and his daughter Diane, remembering their wife and mom who died in 2016 after battling brain cancer. Their interview will be archived at the Library of Congress along with hundreds of thousands of others.
