It's been a month since my Mom died and I can honestly say that I still can't believe it. I have little split second flashes where I think "I need to call Mom." It's so very obvious but I have had such a hard time wrapping my head around how permanent it is. In hospice, I shared with my sister that I don't believe that dying at 83 is a tragedy, my Mom herself said she lived a good life and felt very blessed, but it is taking me a long time to come to terms with how it happened and the events that unfolded seemingly like a slow moving snowball downhill. It's crazy to me that the very possible worst outcome, happened. While I've found myself anxious for this summer season to end, I've realized that the changing of this season won't stop the sadness and the missing of Mom, but I'm hoping it can move on more and more to gladness for how long we had her and that she was ours.
While looking for something in Mom's desk, I found three notes with the title, Things I Love. She had included things such as polka dots, "happy endings", peppermints, black eyed susans, a good cup of coffee, ferns and real wood fires. Finding the notes felt like a gift from her. I think one of my biggest lessons from her was that extra effort is always worth it and to celebrate the little things.
This past winter I bought my Mom a vintage rooster canister that I just knew that she would love! I bought it as an intended Christmas gift but, of course, now I wish I had given it to her for her birthday or even just because. The lesson... give the gift, don't save it for a special occasion.
I've been blown away by the kindness and thoughtfulness of friends. From meals, texts, cards, attending Mom's celebration of life, flowers, calls and memories of Mom... it's literally changed how I think about showing up for people.
My Mom had written very explicit instructions for things and was very organized, which has made starting to sort through her home, paperwork, etc., fairly straightforward. Again, I think this is a gift to Delita and I. Another lesson learned.
Did you know that tucked into the Big Beautiful Bill is a section that expands how many patients nurses and aids can be in charge of? So every single time it takes over an hour to come and help someone simply go to the bathroom, respond to a call button or simply get help with anything at all you can thank our administration for that. Perhaps if nurses and aids weren't stretched so thin they wouldn't miss major medical developments.
Harris said two things that have struck me that I don't want to forget. While in hospice I shared with Harris that I was surprised how long it was taking for his Grandma to let go and he said "she has a long, good life to shuffle through in her head first" and after her death he expressed that "at least she had lived till the very end on her own terms"- making her own decisions, living independently and still driving! Those were all things so very important to her! Grace wrote some of her thoughts in her newsletter.
I sat and cried while writing these things out. I'm learning that grief over Mom isn't a straight line nor what I expected. It's been a comfort that my sister, more than anyone, is feeling the same things. While she and I have sometimes different styles of approaching things, we were together for 5 days straight while everything came to a head, and then to an end. We had time to reminisce, cry, laugh and be totally present together. I think Mom would have loved that.


































