07-20-2018, 12:06 PM
Gang, I just got back from Minnesota, where we buried my nearly 96-year old Mom.
She lived at home until last November, when her increasing frailty and loss of balance caused a fall that sent her to long-term care, where she passed on the morning of July 4th. The Trophy Wife and I were in Minnesota last year at this time for a family reunion, and she was up past midnight cooking and baking for the reunion (typical of my Mom), and then she was up before us. My wife always said that she couldn't keep up with my Mom, until Mom turned 80.
Keeping a garden, always baking and cooking, staying active. We attributed her long life to that.
She also mellowed with age. She could not remember profanity flowing out of her mouth when me and my siblings were young. Six kids in the house is enough to stress out anyone, especially combined with the strict religious environment we lived in. But after my Dad passed, and other events, she became far less religious and far more spiritual and understanding. I learned late in life that my Mom had a calm wisdom about her that was always there...you just had to ask.
Yes it was bittersweet. Losing one's Mom (lost my Dad 33 years ago), is tough. I used to call her once or twice a week, usually as I was driving to or from town, and had some non-distracted time to catch up. The weather in Minnesota was always worse or better, never just okay. Twice this week, that thought of "I should call Mom and check in" came through my head subconsciously, out of habit as I was driving. I shake my head each time as I realize that's no longer an option.
My three brothers and I spent most of five days going through old photos, cleaning out a household that had collected "stuff" for many years. My younger brother, the only one left in Minnesota and who dealt with most of the care and legal details, learned that for the last 40-50 years, she had saved EVERY single card, thank you, flower greeting and so forth. In some ways, he said she was a packrat, but not a hoarder. She saved those personal memories...every damn one of them.
Family flew in from California, Oregon, Colorado. Many more had been there last September for her 95th birthday party. I had well over a half dozen high school classmates (out of a fairly small high school), that came to the wake, the funeral and the burial at Ft. Snelling (where my Dad, Godfather and Sister are all buried).
I was able to reflect as I left my native hometown for what I expect to be the last time. There is no reason for me to ever return to that little town 27 miles West of Chaska. It's a chapter closed.
Minnesota will forever be in my blood, but dangit, I was sure glad to land on the ground back in Montana.
She lived at home until last November, when her increasing frailty and loss of balance caused a fall that sent her to long-term care, where she passed on the morning of July 4th. The Trophy Wife and I were in Minnesota last year at this time for a family reunion, and she was up past midnight cooking and baking for the reunion (typical of my Mom), and then she was up before us. My wife always said that she couldn't keep up with my Mom, until Mom turned 80.
Keeping a garden, always baking and cooking, staying active. We attributed her long life to that.
She also mellowed with age. She could not remember profanity flowing out of her mouth when me and my siblings were young. Six kids in the house is enough to stress out anyone, especially combined with the strict religious environment we lived in. But after my Dad passed, and other events, she became far less religious and far more spiritual and understanding. I learned late in life that my Mom had a calm wisdom about her that was always there...you just had to ask.
Yes it was bittersweet. Losing one's Mom (lost my Dad 33 years ago), is tough. I used to call her once or twice a week, usually as I was driving to or from town, and had some non-distracted time to catch up. The weather in Minnesota was always worse or better, never just okay. Twice this week, that thought of "I should call Mom and check in" came through my head subconsciously, out of habit as I was driving. I shake my head each time as I realize that's no longer an option.
My three brothers and I spent most of five days going through old photos, cleaning out a household that had collected "stuff" for many years. My younger brother, the only one left in Minnesota and who dealt with most of the care and legal details, learned that for the last 40-50 years, she had saved EVERY single card, thank you, flower greeting and so forth. In some ways, he said she was a packrat, but not a hoarder. She saved those personal memories...every damn one of them.
Family flew in from California, Oregon, Colorado. Many more had been there last September for her 95th birthday party. I had well over a half dozen high school classmates (out of a fairly small high school), that came to the wake, the funeral and the burial at Ft. Snelling (where my Dad, Godfather and Sister are all buried).
I was able to reflect as I left my native hometown for what I expect to be the last time. There is no reason for me to ever return to that little town 27 miles West of Chaska. It's a chapter closed.
Minnesota will forever be in my blood, but dangit, I was sure glad to land on the ground back in Montana.
