Tag Archives: mom is awesome

Remembrances

1998-07My mom would have been 90 today. She almost made it, but her path ended three months short of that goal. Last March she found the answer to a question we all have: What comes next? It would be nice to think her lifetime of faith brought the ultimate reward. She surely earned it a million times over.

In any event, she’s at peace now. Those last years were hard — constant pain and a body that no longer served her well or, sometimes, at all. She bore it as gracefully as she did all of life’s travails — always positive, always upbeat. She was the epitome of a wife, of a mother, of a person.

Today, for (what would have been) her 90th birthday, some remembrances.

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Moms (and Insanity)

Sunday HeatYesterday I managed to avoid turning on the A/C, although it was borderline most of the day. At one point I looked at the thermometer, and it was 82.  “One more degree,” I thought, “And the A/C comes on.”  In fact, it did hit 83, but either I’d acclimated to the humidity or it had dried out a little, so I resisted the temptation.

Today, not even noon, and it’s already 81, so I’ve given in completely to sweet temptation. (Fortunately, I have considerable experience giving in to temptation.  I am, in fact, a certified professional with special safety equipment and am operating on a closed course.  Do not try this at home or without expert support.)

For your Sunday enjoyment, I have a few last items from my cache…

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Another one lost

rainAnother co-worker lost a battle with cancer this week. This is the second one washed off the sandbar, and the universe is now 2-0 on taking really good, wonderful people long before their time. Throw in unexpected brain aneurysms, and it’s 3-0.

(On the other hand, my mom beating it three times kind of evens the score. Throw in several strokes, and you’re talking about someone who’s pretty good at dodging bullets. Wonder Woman as a Music Teacher and she—literally—sneers at death! She’s just slightly awesome!)

But today raise a toast, shed a tear, tie one on, fly the flag at half-mast, beat the drum, read a poem, howl at the moon or hug a loved one. The fucking dragon won a round this week.

RIP, Sharon. You leave a hole.