Longest Week

The week between the day my mother entered hospice care and the day she died is easily the longest and worst week of my life. This week (oddly enough, very nearly the same set of days six years later) comes in at a very close second.

Earlier this month our condo building was deemed uninhabitable by the village due to the absence of running water. Mind you, we've been existing without hot water for months prior to this new designation; a fact the village was maybe not so blissfully unaware.

The water shut-off is due to polar vortex-induced busted pipes leading to water spilling about the village street. Something they frown upon.

The times, they have been hard.

Over the past several days I (we) have been furiously endeavoring to relocate before the village takes the next step, whatever that is upon a domicile being deemed uninhabitable. How many more days will they allow? I don't know. I can't afford to care. Particularly since the association is broke in every conceivable way. It. Is. Time. To. Go.

Thanks to the very fine and furiously expedited help of two local social service agencies and a very good friend, relocation is mere hours and some heft away for the daughter and me. The son is making his own arrangements, finding his own way. Happy Birthday to him, by the way.

The anniversary of my son's birth not-with-standing, I can say with fervent candor that February is doing its damnedest to earn the position of my least favorite month.

But then again, maybe this move, these series of events, will prove a very positive turning point in our lives.

We'll see.  March On!

February Eighteenth Twenty Thirteen

Updated Wednesday, February 18, 2015
It has been a year two years  and as most who have lost a loved one, particularly a parent experiences, it feels like today. Like no time has elapsed. Pain. Sharp. Deep. And seemingly, never-ending. It will lessen, I've been told. Not today. Likely, not for a while, yet. Still. 

Per her wishes there wasn't a service but I did write something to honor her and sent it along to family and friends so that they may have . . .something.

Mom's Corner

Every Time I Feel The Spirit*

At 7:14 p.m. on February 18th, my mother breathed her final breath and with that achieved her desire to go home. The last few years presented a multitude of challenges. She prayed for the strength to go on and as the challenges continued to mount, she turned her prayers to those of resolve to move on . . . 

Where He Leads Me* 

Mom spent her time in our world in caring compassion to those around her. She tended her relationships with cards, letters, and other tokens of stewardship. She did what she could to improve the human condition and to beautify her corner of the world, giving as much of herself as possible. 

Pass It On*

Mom's commitment and ministry to community was very strong. Even in the face of her own challenges she gave her time and energies to a variety of outreach programs that aided the homeless, hungry, and disenfranchised, particularly ex-offenders, women, and children. 

Here I Am Lord* 

Even her final act was about giving, having donated her body to science and research. A lifetime of caring, compassion, loving, and giving cannot be summed up in a few hundred words. Nor can such a life and life experience go by totally without notice or report. 

Mom loved to laugh. In going through her possession I located a card sent by a friend that contained the following quote: "laugh as often as possible. you must, because the world will offer you every reason to weep. So as often as possible you laugh! That, I think is part of the GREAT LOVE!" ~Maya Angelou 

Mom's faith was important to her. Each of the starred stanza headings are some of her favorite hymns. John 3:16 was her favorite scripture. For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.

My mother lives on in all our hearts and minds.

You who know me, know I am not a believer but my mother and ALL other relatives and friends are / were of the faithful community. As noted in the beginning this was for them. I drew comfort putting it together as finding her wishes offered a bit more insight into the woman my mother was, strived to be. 

"I will always love my mama, she's my favorite girl, she brought me in this world .  "