I want to say something about death at a time in history when there is a heightened sense of fear that death will come to some prematurely.
Before COVID-19 I just knew that death would come in its own way, although I didn’t know when or how. There was a normalcy around it which I am not feeling now.
When my mother knew that she was dying, her request was that she could die in her own home.
Doral made that possible.
I was 28. There were 7 others in the family.
The youngest were 17, 15, 13 and 12.
I don’t know what kind of talks she had with Doral. I suspect that how he would raise those kids without her help was on his mind.
I had never been that close to death before – never thought about timing visits from her loved ones, never thought about how much access to her grandchildren she wanted, and I had never gone to a funeral home to look at caskets.
The memory of seeing her die of liver cancer is so etched into my psyche that writing about it pulls up feelings of deep grief.
That big ball of sorrow that I can feel just at the bottom of my throat.
A memory that is so etched into my heart that I want to give it is place when I am thinking of 80 memories that I treasure.
Arta
Before COVID-19 I just knew that death would come in its own way, although I didn’t know when or how. There was a normalcy around it which I am not feeling now.
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| Wyora Pilling March 8, 1914 - March 13, 1968 |
Doral made that possible.
I was 28. There were 7 others in the family.
The youngest were 17, 15, 13 and 12.
I don’t know what kind of talks she had with Doral. I suspect that how he would raise those kids without her help was on his mind.
I had never been that close to death before – never thought about timing visits from her loved ones, never thought about how much access to her grandchildren she wanted, and I had never gone to a funeral home to look at caskets.
The memory of seeing her die of liver cancer is so etched into my psyche that writing about it pulls up feelings of deep grief.
That big ball of sorrow that I can feel just at the bottom of my throat.
A memory that is so etched into my heart that I want to give it is place when I am thinking of 80 memories that I treasure.
Arta
i can really see Catherine in this photo. i had never really thought about how much Scoville is in her!
ReplyDeleteYes, Rebecca. You are right. I see it too. Catherine's smile is there - the smile that is seen in the whole face, not just the upturn of corners of the mouth.
DeleteMaybe I will go through some old photo albums and pull out pictures that we haven't looked at for a long time -- ones of the Scovilles. There were 5 sisters (and 3 brothers). When their mom was dying or perhaps at the funeral, they gathered and had a few pictures taken. I like those photos of people when they are middle-aged. I like to look for character.
ReplyDeleteThis comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
DeleteI want to hear more when you feel ready to write it about the "big ball of sorrow that I can feel just at the bottom of my throat". You lost your mother before I was born.I never knew her, but hearing you write this reminds me about the depth of love.
ReplyDeleteHi Catherine. I don't know if you look at the Larch Haven blog often. It has been really hard for me to go to it since our mother Arta's passing. But today I was missing her and "filling my bucket" rereading her letters from the 60s. I am just around the date of her mother's passing. I can't seem to bottle up grief like I used to be able to, and store it "at the bottom of my throat." The tears flowed as I read her letter of Wyora making her own ball of maple fondant from scraps left in the bowl and having Arta dip it in chocolate for her. Yes, Catherine, you nailed it - whether the tears flow or need to be dammed up temporarily at the throat, or chased away by doing chores, or released down in the basement - they do reflect connection, they remind us of the depth of love.
DeleteJust off of the top of my head, here is more about that big ball or sorrow. I knew my mother had cancer when I was about 25. I must have been able to keep my feelings deep inside of me, but for when I was at church, taking the sacrament. During the sacrament song, and during the lengthy time of contemplation around passing it, I must have had tears coming down my cheeks for Kelvin was sitting on the stand by then. Someone leaned over and said to him, your wife is having a lot of trouble. What is it? Yes, I began grieving her possible loss right when I knew she had cancer.
ReplyDeleteIn a few years when we learned the mastectomy had not successfully stopped the spread of the cancer, and we knew that her days were numbered, I would come back to Calgary to visit her. I would sleep downstairs and I could hear her moaning all night. I could not sleep through the nights, hearing that upstairs. It was much later that I learned that what I was hearing was the wind around the house, that she was not moaning, that she had been peacefully sleeping, or if not that, at least not moaning. Now that was one ball of grief that I was carrying that I did not need to have.
A few days before she died, I went to her room. Doral told me to look out the window. A kite was flying. The wind was high. Glen had put a kite in the air, and then tied it to a trellis. The kite flew for many hours. Wyora watched it from her bedroom. There is gut feeling for me, when motherhood is cut short -- when a child has to move forward without the touch that Wyora would give. I just posted Wyona's thought on Wyora for this Mother's Day. You will find that on May 3, 2020. Many people love their mother. But in our case, my mother was loved so widely and so deeply, that it was hard not to grieve what her loss would mean to my younger siblings who didn't have the joy of having her shepherd them through their teens. In my case, she pretty well just stayed out of the way -- which is probably a gift in itself -- to be both present and absent at the same time.
Well, the big ball of sorrow is something, isn't it?
Oh, mom, I miss you. Thank you for the gift of your words that I can go back and read, and even comment on long after your leaving "this mortal coil."
DeleteWhat I remember most from aunt Wyora’s funeral was the line of cars turning the corner. The police had to block the traffic. She was obviously well loved in Calgary.
ReplyDeleteHi Stewart,
ReplyDeleteYes, I agree with you. There were many mourners there that day. Thanks for remembering. You might have just been a young teen-ager then.