There’s a beautiful quote that speaks of grief and gratitude as kindred souls. I’ve grieved a lot these past days with mom’s passing, but my heart has been filled with such gratitude for the privilege it has been to call her my mom and bask in the unconditional and outrageous love she gave to me throughout my life. I don’t think there are two people that could be more different from each other though! I’m a traveller at heart. Mom was a homebody.
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| Chateau Renoir |
Mom was 85, Dad was 87 and they were both struggling with health and mobility issues.
I told them that one of the perks of moving to the Chateau Renoir was being near me and that they would even be able to see me on my frequent runs on the reservoir pathway. When they settled into their little third-floor apartment, we agreed I would phone them from the path so they could wave when I ran by. I was even able to bid on the mail route that included their building, so every day I was able to say hello as I delivered the letters. I cherish the memories of Mom sneaking a muffin from the Renoir breakfast basket for me. And it warmed my heart that it wasn’t only Mom and Dad that called me “Susie”, but the entire Renoir staff and gang.
Sadly, Dad passed only 6 months after they had moved in. It comforted Mom to know that the Renoir community knew her beloved Lorne. Most of us don’t think of Mom as an athlete, but after the loss of her first three children she had dealt with the unimaginable grief through swimming. And in time, not only had she learned to swim, but she had become a certified swimming instructor! At the Renoir, even with her many chronic health challenges, she immersed herself in the activities offered there, including aquasize.
And Mom also liked to get things done FAST! Whether it was sewing, cleaning, or shopping, she got it done! She was a 100 wpm typist, as was I, and we would often duke it out on computer typing tests when I visited. In the early years at the Chateau Renoir, Mom would practically leave us in the dust as she burned up those Renoir hallways and outside paths with her walker. However, when she started to have falls, nurses told her to slow down. One day in a phone conversation with Joanne, she admitted that she had had an epiphany on her way down to dinner at the Renoir earlier that evening… “What am I hurrying for?”
And Mom never gave up. Dad often had us laughing at the story of her diving class where the task was to dive to the pool floor and bring weights to the surface. Mom was so determined to get those weights that she actually came up feet first. Her instructor declared that she’d never seen that before.
That tenacious nature really manifested itself in the way she faced the challenges this last year and a half at Father Lacombe. She always stayed so positive! As she slowed down, it was beautiful to see how much joy she took from simple things… sitting outside enjoying the views overlooking Fish Creek, watching beautiful sunsets from a Father Lacombe window, and watching for the deer, coyotes, bunnies and squirrels that lived and frolicked on the property. She so loved to watch the birdfeeder outside her window. She especially loved when a big group of birds would gather to a freshly filled feeder to bicker and fight over the seeds!
Her last hospital admission was late June. She kept her sense of humour. We would come into her room and she would say. “Did you know I’m 92! I’m so glad. I thought I was 80!” I asked her why she was glad, and she said, “well, I’m doing pretty good for 92.”
Mom loved the kind caregivers at Father Lacombe and they loved her. They often commented on how gracious and sweet Mom was. Her last months were amazing! She had her appetite back and especially savoured the cherry tomatoes and carrot sticks I would bring on my visits. In the last week of her life, Mom fought hard to live, even as her body was shutting down. It was so hard on me to lose her and I so didn’t want her to suffer. I was grateful at the end when she gently let go. I know it was her last gift to me.
Mom worried about me and my crazy adventures her whole life. But as I’ve read her journals these last few days I’ve seen the love and the pride she took in my achievements, and the accomplishments of ALL of her children and grandchildren. She truly lived for and loved her family. I will miss you Mom. I love you.
Susie
Sadly, Dad passed only 6 months after they had moved in. It comforted Mom to know that the Renoir community knew her beloved Lorne. Most of us don’t think of Mom as an athlete, but after the loss of her first three children she had dealt with the unimaginable grief through swimming. And in time, not only had she learned to swim, but she had become a certified swimming instructor! At the Renoir, even with her many chronic health challenges, she immersed herself in the activities offered there, including aquasize.
And Mom also liked to get things done FAST! Whether it was sewing, cleaning, or shopping, she got it done! She was a 100 wpm typist, as was I, and we would often duke it out on computer typing tests when I visited. In the early years at the Chateau Renoir, Mom would practically leave us in the dust as she burned up those Renoir hallways and outside paths with her walker. However, when she started to have falls, nurses told her to slow down. One day in a phone conversation with Joanne, she admitted that she had had an epiphany on her way down to dinner at the Renoir earlier that evening… “What am I hurrying for?”
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| Father Lacombe |
And Mom never gave up. Dad often had us laughing at the story of her diving class where the task was to dive to the pool floor and bring weights to the surface. Mom was so determined to get those weights that she actually came up feet first. Her instructor declared that she’d never seen that before.
That tenacious nature really manifested itself in the way she faced the challenges this last year and a half at Father Lacombe. She always stayed so positive! As she slowed down, it was beautiful to see how much joy she took from simple things… sitting outside enjoying the views overlooking Fish Creek, watching beautiful sunsets from a Father Lacombe window, and watching for the deer, coyotes, bunnies and squirrels that lived and frolicked on the property. She so loved to watch the birdfeeder outside her window. She especially loved when a big group of birds would gather to a freshly filled feeder to bicker and fight over the seeds!
Her last hospital admission was late June. She kept her sense of humour. We would come into her room and she would say. “Did you know I’m 92! I’m so glad. I thought I was 80!” I asked her why she was glad, and she said, “well, I’m doing pretty good for 92.”
Mom loved the kind caregivers at Father Lacombe and they loved her. They often commented on how gracious and sweet Mom was. Her last months were amazing! She had her appetite back and especially savoured the cherry tomatoes and carrot sticks I would bring on my visits. In the last week of her life, Mom fought hard to live, even as her body was shutting down. It was so hard on me to lose her and I so didn’t want her to suffer. I was grateful at the end when she gently let go. I know it was her last gift to me.
Mom worried about me and my crazy adventures her whole life. But as I’ve read her journals these last few days I’ve seen the love and the pride she took in my achievements, and the accomplishments of ALL of her children and grandchildren. She truly lived for and loved her family. I will miss you Mom. I love you.
Susie
Vernetta's funeral made me cry a lot. I think it is the last vestige of Wyora and Doral that did it. The one statement I really loved is, "...too take grief out of death is like taking love out of life." The other thing is that I want a brass quintet to tape "The Dombs" so it can be played at my funeral. And I will lend the tape to you Arta for your funeral.
ReplyDeleteI will be happy to take up your offer of having the brass quintet play "The Dombs", for me, probably the saddest music I have ever heard. Since I have heard it in life, others should hear it at my death. :-)
ReplyDeleteah sweet sweet Susie. This is so beautiful.
ReplyDeleteHi Rebecca. I, too, love hearing the words people say about their loved ones. Such a gift that we can also share them via letters, a blog, ... anything to get to those beautiful words.
ReplyDelete