At
08:19 on the 9th of September, my Mother passed away, just five days
short of her 91st birthday.
She was still living on her own, and still drove her own car, and as she
reminded me not long ago, still had all her own teeth. Mom had fainted in her home, and was not
found for some time. No bones were
broken, which attests to her always drinking a glass of milk a day, building up the Calcium in my bones, as
she would say. In the hospital she was
recovering from dehydration, and damage to her kidneys (brought on by lying on
the floor so long before being found), and although she had suffered three or
four micro strokes while lying there (they did not cause her fall, but came
later), which affected her left arm and leg, she was even beginning to regain
mobility in those limbs; in short she was doing well and was mentally sharp and
even being humorous. The sum total of
fighting on all these fronts was, however, taking its toll, and in the end overwhelmed
her. My brother Doug, and sister Jan
were with her when came the end, and it was peaceful, and with Love all around her as
it should be, but for many so often isn’t. Having recently
listened to a couple of interviews on the radio with a 101 year old lady and a
99 year old man, and thinking, that might
be Mom, it comes as a surprise that she is gone; but then … she lives on within our
memories … and that
is what we have … and they
are good. Perhaps I might say more, and
perhaps I will do … in a few
days time … when I
meet up with my siblings … and we will
share our memories.
“ … always to take a cargo of memories, whatever else, for
when all is lost the memories remain.” The Sacketts: To
the Far Blue Mountains, by Lois L’Amour, 1976 (Bantam
edition, 1977, p. 88)
