Och and a Knee-0

I have now become an orphan.

Late last night the Girl From Belfast City passed away. She was 96 years old and went peacefully thanks to Hospice care which she had been receiving over the past few months. As much as it is the natural way of things for parents to die before the children, the pain of it is still there. All I can think about tonight is that at the age of 57 I have now become an orphan and I feel quite alone. Oddly I feel the pain of my father's death renewed. I thought I had dealt with that already but now find myself acutely missing him as well. All my childhood memories are tied to them, they are the ones who watched me grow. They knew all of my memories. Mom had a memory that was unbelievably strong up to the end. She could recall so many details of things throughout her life. I feel as though my details have now been lost; she was the historian.

Mom enjoyed life. She loved to sing, to tell stories, to hold a baby, to chat with friends. Over the last years of her life she lost most of her vision, nearly all of her hearing, her ability to do the things she wanted. What she did not loose was her determination to endure to the end. She never lost her faith, she never lost her gratitude.

I cannot say enough good things for Mom's nurse Pam and her CNA Deborah. Both cared for Mom so lovingly. Pam stayed with her til the end, refusing to go home and get some well needed and deserved rest. I am so grateful they were with us.

My family rallied round, some taking the day off of work, others coming when they could. Little children filling our home with the sweet sounds of children and helping us to not dwell too much on the empending loss. Life does go on and that is what those sweet little ones were showing me. Our little Spencer still kept coming to Maw Maw's bedside to check the nightstand drawer for Starburst candies. You see she had taught him that she would keep putting candies there for him as a special treat, in return he would give her a sweet hello and a kiss. He would crawl underneath her wheelchair to get to the drawer. 11 grandchildren were here yesterday, 5 of my 6 children were able to be hear along with most of the in-laws.

Some had to syphon gas out of other vehicles to be able to make the trip. They were coming from Houston where you can sit in a line for gasoline for 3 or 4 hours. With a dying grandmother there just wasn't time for that.

These past few months caring for my mother in my home has brought me many gifts. I am sure over the next weeks and months I'll be able to reflect on just what those gifts are. I miss her already. Dad died just over a year ago. No living parents so I guess I really am an orphan.

While I am trying to sort out where I am in my grief I prefer to think back on the happy memories. I have been thinking about my Dad too. Here my mother just died and yet I have wept for my Dad. I thought I was through that, but here comes another tidal wave of grief. I was looking at some pictures of him and mom and have come to the realization that my heart has a picture of him. That picture has him the age he was when I was about 5-10 years old. That's the face that my memories are drawn to. As I look at Mom's pictures I get different emotions depending on how old she and I were in the pictures. A tremendous sense of loss envelopes me when I look at much younger pictures and then a sense of helplessness arrives in the older pictures. I could not take away her ageing, I could not solve her hearing and sight problems.

Mom knew it was her time and she accepted it willingly even with great anticipation. She missed my dad and said she was quite anxious to meet up with him on the other side. She said she was excited to be with him and then the two of them would just wait for my brother and I when it becomes our turn to cross the veil. She mentioned the other day that one of the great things about living to such an old age as 96 is that she won't have long to wait on the other side for the rest of us to arrive.

I imagine that as I was holding her and weeping into her hair, catching those last familiar scents, that her mother and father were waiting to greet her with wide open arms and joy that equals or perhaps even exceeds all of my pain. I am sure as I sit here tonight that her sweetheart of more than 60 years was there waiting for her. The same group that will await my 'homecoming' in the future when my time here has been fulfilled. I dreamed last night (and it was such a short and yet vivid dream that it awoke me) I dreamed I heard her voice calling my father's name. Just the one word "Bill", so short but yet so real. I wish I could hear it again now.

My grandmother would say "Och and a Knee-0, my sweet lover. He must have been bad (ill) or he would have been here. Och and a Knee--0"

I miss you mom, and while you are physically gone from me you are so much a part of who I am that you will always be here in some way. I will not forget you.