I’ve been thinking all week about my Mother and also today on what would be her 90th birthday.
I reminisced about her last few weeks and the time Paulette and I spent with her.
Eight months before she passed away, she had an arterial blockage. At the time, I was gently encouraged to keep her comfortable and let her go peacefully but I could not face that.
Although her dementia took away a lot of her memories, she was still engaging and she could be so funny and brought joy to others. So I pushed for surgery, which was technically successful, it restored the blood flow but she never walked again. With Covid fears and restrictions still in full swing she declined rapidly.
Perhaps I shouldn’t have approved the surgery, before that she seemed to have lots to give in life. Either way, it was a no-win situation. Had I let her go then, I think I would have still gone through a period of guilt. I am sorry she had to suffer.
It comes down to the final verse in this Wm Randolph Hearst poem ~’The River’
“So don’t ask why –
We live or die,
Or whither, or when we go,
Or wonder about the mysteries
That only God may know”

I love this picture of my Mother. It was taken two months after the surgery. I had given her the pearls my auntie sent her and she let me braid her hair. We spent the afternoon singing hymns đź’• It was hard to leave that day, but it was a day I will always cherish.