I copied the following from my other blogspot post, wanting to update both blogs at the same time, but not wanting to write different text for each.
A lot has happened during the past ten months. Following my aunt D.'s
death in October 2016 and my mother's death on the 15th of November
2017, my father died, a few months after his 100th birthday, followed by
three of his brothers, my last uncle on my mother's side, and on the
5th of this month, one of my last three aunts, my father's sisters. In
December of last year, I was diagnosed as having type 2 diabetes. I've
lowered my weight by 37 lbs. and my A1C by 5.5%, and before the end of
this year, my doctor wants to discuss how much to reduce my medication,
with the possibility that I can rely for the most part on continuing
with exercise and proper diet.
Through hospice, I
enjoyed working with a grief counselor, who came to my home every month
or so, our last visit being during August's second week. Since I have
fragrance and chemical sensitivities, I cannot do groups or other
possibly toxic environments. Our meetings have had a profound effect on
my grieving process and the ways in which I recognize and can deal
meaningfully with the inevitable and unexpected losses of life.
parents' estates were settled, the last of the paperwork going through
in...August? This month? I have forgotten. The brother and his wife who
provided so much help to our mother during her final year bought the
house for as low a cost as we could justify; if they have not already
done so, they should very soon be moving in, needed repairs having been
made. Everyone chose favorite keepsakes from the house, personal papers
went to the sister who volunteered to transcribe and preserve letters,
family history, and such, and the remainder, clothes and appliances and
excess furniture, was given to charity or hauled away by city waste
From my mother's trove of quilting
creations and supplies, my sister-in-law from the Twin Cities asked me
to choose a quilt top or two, which she has promised to make into
finished quilts for me as she has time. And so I will have at least one
more of Mother's quilts...if only to cover me in my coffin, although I
look forward to using it as a bed cover at night. I must mention that to
her and to my husband. At the memorial services and funerals that I
have attended recently, I have found such things to be meaningful to
many mourners. If nothing else, it gives people an extra something to
In my dreams just before waking, Mother
looks happy and much younger. In her forties to early fifties, which is
when we spent the most time together. She was wearing her favorite red
t-shirt to which she had added embroidery and her blue shorts, casual
and relaxed. When I last saw her, she was coming out of the woodworking
shop in the back yard, which my husband and I have built during this
summer. She smiled as she walked toward me, just before I awakened.
This post can be found on both of my blogspot blogs, where I place occasional
updates, as I do here. More often I can be found at WordPress
(themomentsbetween, straycoffee, quiltedpoetry, theartofdisorder). And
Mother's website is still RhodaBerry, also at Wordpress.com, where there
are photographs of her art and her quilts, the family, and a page about
the books that she finished and published before her eyesight failed,
the last one or two years of her life.
Wednesday, March 1, 2017
On Sunday, late evening, my father died in his sleep. We had celebrated his 100th birthday, last December. With Mother gone, he slipped away, for no particular reason; physically, he was active, in good health, with no mental deterioration other than an occasional lapse of memory. Fully engaged in life, the world around him, and still holding solid, fact-based opinions on local to international concerns.
Is still a shock.
Is still a shock.