It's already been two weeks since you left us for your Heavenly home. You would be proud of me, Mom, I only cried twice today. The rain has finally stopped and we had a gorgeous sunny day. I was even able to set out a beautiful pink azalea that a friend of ours from church gave me, in memory of you. I remember when we built our house here, you cut a piece off of your beautiful fuchsia azalea over on Skyuka road and walked all the way down the bank to the creek, to put a rock on top of it until a root grew. I still have it and it's blooming now. I can't believe you were my age and climbed up and down that huge bank just to check on that root. You must have loved me a lot. I even placed some flowers on your grave last week. You know I detest graves. Sue was always good to take care of everybody's grave and to visit regular. I just never wanted to do that. But I'm going to try to do better for you. I believe you would have loved your "homegoing" service. We have had so many to compliment on how beautiful it was. I try not to think about the last 7 years of your life, Mom, just all the years before, when you were you. I know now that you are complete. There will never be a time when you're alone or confused, for you have all the answers now. I just want to tell you how much I loved you. I can't imagine a better mother than you. Tell Daddy, Yates and Doris "hello" and I will see you all again one day, on that beautiful shore. ---Jean
My beautiful mother, Margie W. Williams, 86, had her final "homegoing" on April 8, 2015. What a relief it was to see her draw that final breath. Her struggles had finally ended. Mother developed double pneumonia from aspiration, several weeks prior to her passing. Spending a few weeks in the hospital, complications were still present. Her family was by her side constantly, up until her last breath. I will miss her and all the calamities that Dementia brought our way. But we are so thankful and blessed to have been a part of this woman's life, even through the "crazy" years. My thoughts and prayers will forever be with those of you who have typed in, searching for information or stories, concerning dementia and brought you to this blog. I say goodbye today, not only to mom, but to you. May God Bless!
Friday, February 20, 2015
I tried making your infamous pound cake again today, mother. Even though I have the recipe, it still doesn't come close to yours. I needed to ask you what I am doing wrong, but know that it's impossible for you to tell me. Visiting mother becomes harder and harder each time I go now. Weeks ago, I was spending time with my youngest grandson, when I stepped on a slippery surface and sprained my ankle. Soon afterwards, I was telling mother about my fall, when all of a sudden, her eyes became huge, and a stern look covered her face...that all familiar "mothering instinct" took over, as she blurted out, "When did this happen?" "You better be careful!" I was in shock, yet feeling elated that a part of my mother was still in there. Forgive me mother, for giving up on ever feeling that love from you again. It's really hard for all of us, knowing that you would never want to be this way. Dear Lord, I miss the woman that used to live inside my mother's body. I know that my feelings are selfish; realizing that so many have lost their mothers to death and can no longer touch or see them here on earth. I thank you for the life that this jewel has shown before her family. For the years she gave serving You; teaching, praying and reading Your Word. What a blessing she's been to those who loved her. Teach me to accept this day, this time in my mother's life. I know that all of this is in your perfect plan and that our lives are forever engraved in the palms of Your hands as Your Word tells us. Because of this, I can face tomorrow.
Wednesday, January 7, 2015
Well I must confess...it has been more than a few months since I've posted. Mother's 86th birthday has come and gone. Dementia still insists on transforming our precious matriarch into someone who can hardly recognize her family and friends. It is a rarity to hear her call my name now. Her words have become mostly "jibberish" but still has some choice, distinguishable words thrown in; displaying that "Mema" humor we all have known and loved. Even the words to her favorite hymns are becoming aloof. The last of her beautiful white teeth, have now broken off or fallen out, leaving only stubs to chew on. I glance at her hair, fingers, nose, eyes...every bodypart, a reminder of our past life together as mother and daughter. Many times, people will ask how mother is doing. I answer, "As well as to be expected, just doesn't know us anymore." Their reply back is usually "Well, at least you still have her!" I've heard that conversation at different times and situations in my life before, just not about my own mother. Now, I actually know what it means. It has to be a selfish need though, granting it is one of love. Even if she doesn't have a clue as to where she is, or who she's with, we are still able to go visit her and can see, touch and feel our mother's body. I still want this. I do know that possibly, a time will come, when I won't.