As some of you know, The Amazing Mom passed away on March 27th while in hospice care in her home. I was with her. She died peacefully, surrounded by love. I am happy to say that she kept her dignity and her marvelous sense of humor to the very end.
Mom was 85 when she passed. She lived a rich and meaningful life; a life full of good works, adventure, beauty and joy. I am glad that she is free of her long illness which she bore with great grace and courage.
She traveled all over the world during her lifetime. It is a passion she passed on to me. This is a photo I took of her at the Parthenon in 2006. As long as she lived she loved animals, art, gardens, reading, learning and meeting new people. I am so very proud to be her daughter.
I imagine her, now, greeting old friends and loved ones and dancing the night away in my father's arms.
She loved to dance. So today I'm posting Dance Me To The End of Love in her honor. I made sure to include an acoustic version of this song in the video we made for her memorial last month. It was deeply rewarding going through all those great photos with her, and then, later on, with my husband and my cousins. It reminded me what a great life looks like. These photos were healing for her friends that day, as well, and we all left the memorial rather tearful, yes, but also laughing (a lot) and telling our favorite stories about her and Dad. Again, thanks Mom.
I've spent the last 25 years working in wildlife and companion animal rescue and I've watched over three family members now who've died from cancer (1) so I can tell you from experience that there is such a thing as a good death because I've seen it. I've also seen the other kind. Because she was brave and we were lucky my mother had a great life and a very good death.
I'm grateful to her caregivers and the hospice nurses and to her friends and ours who walked this long and challenging way with us. My thoughts today are with all those who are on the same road. May you have the same capable and compassionate support that we have found. As I remarked recently to Himself: The WWII generation is living much longer (far longer than their own parents did) and I'm find that my generation, like the Victorians before us, is learning a great deal about care giving, death and dying. I'm both pleased and sorry to say that I'm getting rather good at it. It won't surprise those of you who read this blog that the man who created Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg understood exactly what I meant.
My thanks to all those among our acquaintances who walked this way before I did, and who shared what it was like so we didn't have to travel the whole way in the dark. (2)
We will miss her, always. That's as it should be. Thanks, Mom. We love you.
Regards to all here,
Dj
(1) As the saying goes, "Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action."
(2) I hope that I can now pay some of that kindness and experience forward when the time is right.
Mom was 85 when she passed. She lived a rich and meaningful life; a life full of good works, adventure, beauty and joy. I am glad that she is free of her long illness which she bore with great grace and courage.
She traveled all over the world during her lifetime. It is a passion she passed on to me. This is a photo I took of her at the Parthenon in 2006. As long as she lived she loved animals, art, gardens, reading, learning and meeting new people. I am so very proud to be her daughter.
I imagine her, now, greeting old friends and loved ones and dancing the night away in my father's arms.
She loved to dance. So today I'm posting Dance Me To The End of Love in her honor. I made sure to include an acoustic version of this song in the video we made for her memorial last month. It was deeply rewarding going through all those great photos with her, and then, later on, with my husband and my cousins. It reminded me what a great life looks like. These photos were healing for her friends that day, as well, and we all left the memorial rather tearful, yes, but also laughing (a lot) and telling our favorite stories about her and Dad. Again, thanks Mom.
I've spent the last 25 years working in wildlife and companion animal rescue and I've watched over three family members now who've died from cancer (1) so I can tell you from experience that there is such a thing as a good death because I've seen it. I've also seen the other kind. Because she was brave and we were lucky my mother had a great life and a very good death.
I'm grateful to her caregivers and the hospice nurses and to her friends and ours who walked this long and challenging way with us. My thoughts today are with all those who are on the same road. May you have the same capable and compassionate support that we have found. As I remarked recently to Himself: The WWII generation is living much longer (far longer than their own parents did) and I'm find that my generation, like the Victorians before us, is learning a great deal about care giving, death and dying. I'm both pleased and sorry to say that I'm getting rather good at it. It won't surprise those of you who read this blog that the man who created Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg understood exactly what I meant.
My thanks to all those among our acquaintances who walked this way before I did, and who shared what it was like so we didn't have to travel the whole way in the dark. (2)
We will miss her, always. That's as it should be. Thanks, Mom. We love you.
Regards to all here,
Dj
(1) As the saying goes, "Once is chance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action."
(2) I hope that I can now pay some of that kindness and experience forward when the time is right.
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