REMEMBRANCE

My mom died nine years ago this morning.

It was a day just like this bright and sunny July 10th.  I had been sitting vigil at the hospital for 12 hours each day since July 5 when she had a massive stroke; I had spent the night that first night, not thinking she would live until morning.  She did, although she never regained consciousness in the next 5 days.

Still, I was there, talking to her, stroking her arms, brushing her hair, holding her hand, laying my head on the pillow next to hers.  I brought in family photos for the windowsill and placed the flowers on her bedside table.  Hub was with me most of the time.  Our oldest son came home from his college town to see her; our younger son, home on summer break, held down the fort at the house, stopping in periodically at the hospital.  I called the rest of the far-flung family and held the phone to her ear as they talked to her; I didn't hear their words but I assume they expressed their love and appreciation for her.  Was she aware of any of that?  I don't know...

On the morning she died, I got off the elevator with my Starbucks mocha and had a big smile on my face as I prepared to greet the nurse coming toward me. I had gotten to know the nursing staff, the custodial staff, the Hospice workers.  All were gentle, caring, respectful, friendly, compassionate people.  This morning, though, the nurse came came to me with a look that could only mean one thing...she enveloped me in her arms and said, "She passed about a half hour ago."  I was not shocked, but I burst into tears.  I was sad and relieved.  Her 5 years of a subtle, then precipitous decline into dementia and physical weakness were over.  She did not want to "linger" and she really didn't.  Her stroke came on suddenly and then she was gone.

The Hospice harpist happened to be on the floor...she had learned of my mom's death just before I arrived.  She waited there for me and we entered mom's room together.  She played while I sat at my mom's bedside, weeping.  Truly she was an Angel in that moment.  I will never forget the sense of awe and peace her music elicited as I spent the final moments I'd ever have in my mother's presence.

I'm not sure why I needed to recount all that here, for others to see and read.  But as with any other post in this blog, my hope is that by sharing my life, I'm touching that of another.  There is reassurance in knowing that the human experience is shared.  We are not alone.

I miss my mom every single day.  Sometimes I feel her close by...like right next to me!  But other times, like today, she is only a memory.  I am honoring her in my heart today, with recollections of her love, her hugs, the firm grip of her hand on mine that last time I sat with her before her stroke, her smile, her laugh, her holding my babies, her amazing talents in undertaking almost any job, from hammers to hair cuts, from baking to painting (walls and landscape canvases!), her pride for her family, her stoic determination, her introverted need for quiet, for her tidy and organized home and the flowers in her garden.

After the arrangements were made for her cremation, there was little else to do until planning for her memorial service began.  We'd decided to hold it a month later, in Illinois, her home before she'd moved to Washington in 1996 to live near me.  So we packed a couple of bags and left town.  I needed a change of scenery, to breathe, to grieve, to heal.  We have a little place in North Idaho.  So we went.  And that is where I write from today.  It's all flooding back, even the trip to Idaho.

Here's what I know:  Unless there is crazy pathology or abuse in family relationships, you will find that in spite of any differences, disagreements, or arguments; in spite of petty squabbles, misunderstandings, or simply 'putting up with' the weirdnesses of various family members....you will miss them when they are gone.  Make peace with those you love every day, forgive the annoyances,  and celebrate the good in each other.  It's lonely to be the last one standing in your original family.  I am that.  And some days, I just want them all back, with all the flaws and flailings we all brought to the mix.  Me included.

At least, that's the view from here...©