The phone rang shortly after 1am this morning, with the news that my Mom had died. She was 97. Mom had been in Assisted Living for the past two years, and despite their excellent care, she was slowly being crushed by the weight of dementia. At some point she stopped being the person we had known, and had become a small stranger raging at her situation. She was moved to the Memory Care wing last year, and began Hospice Care a few months back. Their visits increased as her final days drew near. But now for her the war is over, and she's at rest.
I'm grateful that she still knew who I was during most visits, and also for the rare and fleeting moments of clarity that she sometimes had. During what was to be our last real conversation, Mom told me she had finally come to terms with leaving this world for whatever came next. That was this past Tuesday. We stopped by again on Saturday. She was no longer conscious by then, just a ghost in the departures lounge.
There will be no services or funeral. At some point we will place her ashes, along with my Dad's, into the sea off the coast of Maine, as per their wishes. Maine was where their happiest memories were formed. As for me, I will keep my memories of them everywhere.
