Four years, four years ago today my mom passed from this world to her forever home. I think of her often.

I analyze and reanalyze every significant event from my childhood until the day she passed.

As the years pass, I see more clearly that our relationship was like many other mother/daughter relationships… always evolving, with ups and downs, give and take, frustrations and acceptance.

In the end, I was by her side. I held her hand, I sang hymns to her and I prayed for God to take her home and end her suffering. God answered that prayer on Pentecostal Sunday. The day God sent his Holy Spirit as a comfort to us, he took her home.

I knew her passing was inevitable and I thought was prepared. I thought I had already grieved over the prior few weeks but the moment she passed, I was overwhelmed with unexpected emotions. Our journey was over.

Below is a blog post from several months before she past. I had visited her but because of Covid we had limited visits. In that time, however, we made our peace.

January 2021

No Fight Left … Only Love

I saw my mother yesterday. She was a little confused and in quarantine because of her latest hospital visit.

Over the years my mother and I have had our shared joy and trials, times when we saw eye-to-eye and many times that we clashed. There were times I felt suffocated and pulled away and times she clung tighter.

The last few years because of her decline into dementia it seemed the clashes were more frequent and heated. I was not-so-affectionately called the “bossyone” In reality, I was trying to enable the very thing she wanted, to remain independent in her home, by making sound decisions and managing her finances.

An unfortunate fall in 2018 lead her to rehab where she could no longer hide her advancing dementia.

We have been through a process the past three years. Just as infant grows and advances at a rapid pace between birth and four years. It seems dementia takes a turn and in three short years my mothers abilities have declined at a rapid pace.

She had surgery in October and the decline has been even more sharp since then. When I saw her this week she was so frail and helpless, she stared off into space as a newborn does when it is seeing the strange new world for the first time. She found comfort in being held, holding my hand and was soothed by the sound of music – the old hymns she would play for hours. The words to those she has not forgotten.

We have gone from my birth and total dependence, to growing, changing, challenging, disagreements, coming together, growing apart, to facing the honest truth of our relationship. Then it reversed: growing apart, coming together, disagreements, challenging, changing (especially in my views about her illness and motives), to her growing old and total dependence on others.

Now she just wants to be loved, be safe and protected. We have come full circle from the newborn daughter a mother held in her arms 65 years ago to yesterday as a daughter held her innocent elderly mother in her arms.

I braided her hair and put the pearl necklace on her that my auntie sent. Girls should always wear their pearls.

There is no fight left, what is left is only pure love.

One year ago today I was in South Africa traveling to the Isandlwana Battlefield. In January 1879 it was the site of the first major encounter of the Anglo-Zulu War.

This trip was part of a group tour with the graduates of the 1973 Nottingham University Mining Dept. It was a 50 year anniversary/reunion for them. Ten guys and their wives including my husband Chris and me.

To be honest when I read the itinerary included this stop, I thought it was really a guy thing. I was not interested, but it was their celebration and after all they were all guys, therefore it was a stop of interest.

We started the journey on the seaside in Durban and travelled 5+ hours by coach to Isandlwana. The countryside was beautiful and I took many pictures of the villages and locals along the way.

We stayed at the Isandlwana Lodge. The lodge is cut into the rockface of Nyoni Rock with an expansive view of the mountain and battlefield below. The entire lodge is shaped like a shield, and built with rock and thatch to resemble the native huts. Per the Lodge’s website, the lodge was opened in 1999 and was formally opened by Prince Mangosuthu Buthelezi, a direct descendant of King Shaka.

Just the beauty of the lodge and the serenity of the surrounding area made this a magical place. Hard to believe this magical serene space witnessed a brutal horrific battle.

The whole sordid story is too long and complicated to recount here but for three days we had the most magnificent guide, Thulani, who told the story in such captivating detail that I wish I could have recorded the entire visit.

In a nutshell it goes like this: 1) British Empire decides they want Zululand; 2) the Zulu King doesn’t agree; 3) war ensues; 4) over confident British commander camps at Isandlwana; 5) Zulu King and his forces overpowered the armed British with only spears and shields; 6) a majority of the 1700 British troops were killed; 7) after a series of battles over the next several months the British gain control of Zululand; 8) in 1887, Zululand was declared British territory.

In walking the battlefield, I was surprised to see most all of the monuments were to British officers and troops. Well, makes sense as most of them were erected by the British after they took control. However one would have thought in recent years there would be monuments to honor the Zulu warriors who fought for their land.

I asked Thulani and he told me that a monument had been dedicated to the Zulu’s in 1999. It was commissioned by the KwaZulu Monuments Council to commemorate the Zulu army involved in the battle and it was unveiled on its 120th anniversary.

It was a large replica of a necklace of valour worn by deserving Zulu warriors. Just two months before our visit the monument was cut into pieces and stolen. A small section that was left had been moved to the porch area of the small museum.

So that’s the story. One year ago I surprised myself by a visit to a place I thought I had no interest in seeing. Not only was I in awe of the beauty of the lodge and surrounding landscape, I also learned about the sad history of the land.