On Wednesday of this past week I received word that my mother, Cindy, had passed peacefully at my brother’s home in New York State. I was at the airport in Charlotte at the time, waiting for my connecting flight to Albany when I learned of her passing. It made me feel better that she was aware that I was on my way, but like so many times before when facing someone’s imminent end of life, I’ve learned that some choose to spare you that difficult goodbye; it’s an amazingly selfless act.
What was going to be some quality time spent with her was now a visit with family celebrating a life well-lived. At her side for her last hours were two of her grandchildren and her adorable great grand daughter, Spider Fonteyn, an amazing little spirit as unique as her name who will turn two in June. I know that this made my mother very happy.
My mom had been at three long-term care facilities since her stroke in mid-November; the same day I moved into the log-cabin in Florida. I was able to fly up and spend time with her on several occasions and I’ll treasure those visits. Her truest wish was to spend her final days with family in a home setting, and my brother John and his wife Gigi made sure that happened. I think she was so relieved and at peace upon her arrival here that she was able to finally embrace the inevitable in a better state of mind.
On my flight from Charlotte, I sat next to an elderly woman who reminded me of my mother. She was from Ireland (my mother had Irish blood) and had worked as a nurse, as my mom had. She was 92 and we spoke the entire trip which I found very comforting. At the airport, as we waited for our baggage, she introduced me to her son, Paul. Paul was the name of my mom’s brother who died shortly after his birth. That name had always held special meaning to her.
I think my mother was truly waiting to join my dad in the afterlife. She missed him greatly since his passing at age 95 last April. She turned 97 in October and still looked awesome and even dimished as she was after her ordeals, she was still asking me how I was doing and well-aware that I’d made a new life for myself since Rich’s passing two years ago. After she lost my dad, she told me that it was only then that she understood the gravity of that loss. She had also lost two children, my sister at age 57, and my brother Matt who passed at 39. To her credit, she handled these losses remarkably well.
I regret she was never able to see my log home in Florida, but I know she knew about the little pup I’d adopted and had named for my dad.
She spent some time down in Georgia with me after Rich’s passing. She liked her time there, but missed her True North. She’d declared to me at one point, “I’m not going to die in this state.” Shortly after she was on a plane heading to New York where she’d been since June. At the time that song, Bury Me in Georgia was getting a lot of play and I’d jokingly turn it up on the radio when we were out driving and change the words as I sang to her. She had a good sense of humor, too.
I wrote her obituary this morning and in doing so relived so many happy days spent with family and friends; a life that took her from Hackensack, NJ, Boulder, CO, The Jersey Shore, St. Mary’s GA, Florida, and then back northward to New York. She will be greatly missed by many. On behalf of my family I extend gratitude for all the kind words and comfort and condolences that have been so heartwarming.
