I haven't posted a blog since April 30, 2026. That was the last day I would see my mother alive. I took her to the Afib clinic that day, as her doctor urged the day before. Her heart was running out of gas, a technical term for her cardiac condition. For years Mom had said that her body had passed its expiration date. She went home to be with Jesus on May 5, 2026, while I was at the beach with my family.
She's been gone now for nearly three months, and life is so different. I keep wanting to tell her family news. I met a cousin a few weeks ago. He's my half second cousin once removed (for real), and he lives just a few miles away. Mom would have loved to know about that.
I miss our weekly trips to Walmart and breakfast at the Friends Home West bistro. I want to show her so many pictures of my grandkids. I have more family questions to ask now, although I did my best to think of everything before she died.
She kept her mind for her whole life, never needing help with medications or finances. In her last few weeks she asked me to change her hearing aid batteries; her hands had gotten too shaky.
She lived as a widow for 25 years, and learned to manage so many of life's chores after Dad died in 2001. She moved to her retirement community in 2018 where she continued to thrive. In 2021 she broke her neck in a car accident, but recovered remarkably well. She didn't drive after that, and I had the privilege of taking her grocery shopping every week. It became a sacred routine, a time of checking in and catching up. I would show her pictures of my grandkids and tell stories. I would ask her questions about my childhood and her childhood. She kept up with all the family news, and asked about all my work. I treasure those conversations.
Mom was a great hugger. She got energy from hugs, she said. She's right. I got energy from them, too.
She lived long, 90 years. She saw all kinds of hardship, growing up during WWII, losing her father in a farm accident when she was only 15. Twice she overcame cancer. She gained so much wisdom. She listened well. She loved so well, very quietly, steadfastly.
She touched more lives than I ever realized, as a school teacher, non-profit director, sister, mother, neighbor. She left a legacy that lives on. But my sister and I are the only ones to whom she was mother. We had that special bond with her. Her goal for us was that we love each other. Mission accomplished, Mom! We now have the profound responsibility and privilege to carry on her legacy. What a joy!
