Dearest Mom,
Andrew and I are honored to have spent your last 9 months together with you. We got to know you better in that time than perhaps ever. We will always remember and admire your strength and determination to be as independent as possible and toward the end, your resolve to return to Florida. there to rejoin your family. We certainly shared a lot of smiles and joyous moments, and a few tears.
They say as death approaches we relive memories long forgotten. We loved your vivid memories of growing up in Chicago during the depression and on into WWII with all the rationing and coupons and benevolent neighbors. A particular favorite was your curious landlady who insisted on quiet and made everyone in the apartment building take their shoes off. We understood your love for your mother and father despite the many opportunities you were denied because of their urban fear-based protection. We smile every time we see a picture of you with your cousin Dolores and remember how you regaled us with wonderful stories of your summers in Belmont and the many adventures the two of you shared... the love you had for your grandmother, her gentle way, her wonderful homemade rye bread... and the way she protected you from your 'mean' grandfather. You were particularly fond of the story where your grandfather sent you away from the dinner table because you were wearing a little lipstick and he thought you looked like a 'show girl'. Then there was the story about how you and Dolores "somehow... accidentally" let your surly uncle Frank's racing pigeons loose and how your grandmother saved you from his retribution. I imagine some psychiatrist today would call that an act of passive aggression. We of course would use more colorful language... payback's a bitch Uncle Frank.
Raising a big family on Douglas road wasn't one of your favorite topics of discussion. And while you never wanted to get into much detail it was pretty clear to me that having six children and being the dutiful homemaker was never really one of your plans. Back in the 40's so much of your life was determined by your parents and the way 'it was done' in the day. Girls got married young and obeyed their husbands... mostly. Dad was the product of often unhappy parents and no brothers or sisters. Like you, Dad was the amalgamation of his parents and the way of the day, which meant marriage and children. Nevertheless; we grew up in an atmosphere of love and always had good food, (boiled brussel sprouts not withstanding), clean clothes and a comfortable home. OK, so the girls did hog the bathroom a lot... we boys got used to peeing in the back yard or in the cold winter, the laundry sink in the basement. Looking back I remember standing in the driveway on Sunday mornings waiting for Mr Eastman in his rickety old yellow school bus to pick us up for Sunday school and wondering what you and dad did while we were gone. I recall asking you that and... you had no words. As kids we never appreciated the sadness that often overcame you and we wondered why... was it something we had done. Dad always explained it as 'your mother is going through the change' which at the time gave us some understanding of your Jekyll and Hyde mood swings. But I know now that it was your dreams and desires that weren't being met and retreating was your only defense.
After dad was gone and you were entrenched in the Florida lifestyle you were finally able to stretch your wings and make your own decisions. There was a new sparkle in your eyes as you reinvented yourself and created your own new life... perhaps learning that living alone was not all it was cracked up to be. One of our greatest pleasures was taking you with us when we traveled Southeast Asia with Andrew's mom, dad and sister Bee. You were a real trooper in spite of your aches and pains. Three countries in 11 days set a fast pace. I remember the day we went to the Forbidden City in Beijing and walked about 10 miles... even though your legs ached you never wanted to sit for very long because you wanted to see everything... and we pretty much did. And the day we went to the Great Wall, you managed to stand on it long enough to get your picture taken and then made a beeline for the tea room and one of your favorite places, the gift shop. And we loved the way you rolled your eyes along with the rest of us as we came to realize that Chinese food is really much better in America than in China.
We thank you for the way you embraced Andrew and his family as they embraced you. We know only too well how you admired Andrew's mom Phou. Phou is the strength of her family and she works hard to keep her family close, with multiple generations living together. Growing up I remember how you and dad always talked about family and how you wanted us all to be home for holidays and birthdays... but as we each grew up and left home the family dynamic that you desired just didn't happen. Again, we are products of the cultural way it was done at the time... and of the great distances many of us chose to travel.
My only regret for you was that you were never able to reconcile with your sister Carol. I know you tried to explain the circumstances that fractured your relationship but it was never very clear to me. That loss brings into clear relief the old adage... don't put off until tomorrow that which you should do today. Tomorrow is never guaranteed.
So thank you mom for getting my life off to a good start and for letting me spend your last days with you as friends. I know you did the very best you could do and that is something Andrew and I try to emulate every day. Thank you for always making we feel like a success and for embracing my lifestyle even when it conflicted with your beliefs. Thank you for sharing your love with us and of course, 842,911 hours of Dark Shadows.
Many will say they want you to rest in peace... but not me. Andrew and I want you to shake up your new world and go after everything you weren't able to get in this life... and we hope we will see you again... on the other side.
All my Love,
Terry
June 1, 2022
