Mom
Born 6/26/27
Passed away 11/28/2019

November 29, 2019 - Friday morning

24 degrees/cloudy/calm winds

Pentoga Road

This is a hard one to write this morning, but I need to go through the motions. It's how I mourn, by releasing the pain through my fingers and onto the keyboard. I'll cry most the way through, but once I'm done, I'll feel better. 

That's the way it's always worked.

I wrote in my newspaper columns when all four of my grandparents passed away. I shared the passing of Dad's death many years ago in a blog, and now, it's time I do the same with Mom.

The snowstorm of Thanksgiving 2019 was about as ill timed as it could be. My sister, Barb, had called earlier this week saying that Mom wasn't in good shape and if we could make it to Indiana, it might be time. 

The weather forecast was for inches and inches of snow, Sargie had to work, and there was no way I was going to leave her by herself in a snowstorm. Since the power was out for over twenty four hours, I'm especially glad I remained at home.

When the power came on Thanksgiving morning, a slew of messages arrived with the phone and internet service. One of them was from Barb saying Mom was in bad shape and that I needed to call.

I couldn't get Barb on the phone, so I called the hospital and talked to the nurse in ICU that had cared for Mom the whole previous night. She told me Mom had passed away while sleeping. 

I'm told there were three nurses at her side and that Mom's breathing became slower and slower and then just like that, she'd left.

There's no doubt that Dad and Jesus were standing, side by side, to greet her. 

Mom finally got her wish. 

In declining health for the past several months, Mama was quick to tell us that she was ready to "go home" and that she missed Dad. We quipped that evidently, God had other plans for her and after all, good help is hard to find and it was obvious her room wasn't yet ready.

Sargie and I count ourselves lucky that we got to spend last weekend with her before she went into the hospital. We talked, laughed, exchanged her summer clothes for winter clothes, and even had a pizza party in Mom's apartment. Poor Mom was suffering from a variety of aches and pains, but she was bound and determined to walk to her apartment from the nursing home side of her complex, then onto the dining room where she's eaten for years. 

As it turns out, that was her last lengthy walk. Mom went into the hospital the day after we left.

There's little doubt that Mom had her ultimate departure planned. Other than the fact that her goodbye's were fervent and her hugs longer than usual, she said something we found strange.

Mama has had a large Christmas wreath placed over Dad, Grandma, and Grandpa's graves in Galesburg, IL, for years. It was something she was adamant about.

Sargie asked Mom last weekend if she'd ordered the wreath and Mom's immediate reply was, "I'm not going to do that this year."

Looking back, we now know why. I think Mom kept herself going until she could tell Sargie and me goodbye during our last visit. She did the same with my sister and brother in law just two days ago.

Before that, Mom had been failing and was often delirious. Barb called a couple of nights ago and said things were looking up. Mom was awake, alert, and though she couldn't talk because of a pesky oxygen mask, she and Barb "talked." Mama learned that Sargie and I were stuck in the UP due to the snowstorm, but that we'd be down as soon as the roads were clear. 

Barb called shortly after saying that Mom was on the upswing, that with forced oxygen, her mind was becoming clear and the doctor had talked of hopefully weaning her off the oxygen and getting Mom on with her life.

That didn't happen. 

God found a room for Mom Thursday morning and she got her wish. Mama finally was able to join Dad surrounded by God's holy love. 

I don't know how to feel. There were times these past two weeks that my prayers swiveled a complete 180 degrees from one day to the next. 

When Mom was suffering from lack of oxygen and in obvious pain, I prayed that God would take her home. After learning that she was doing better, I prayed even harder that God would make her well, that she might once again join her girl gang at the senior complex and be able to spend just one more Christmas here in the UP. 

I've gone through all the emotions that I'm supposed to. I've laughed about some of Mom's antics from years past and I've cried when I remember all that remains of Mom are memories. 

Anger was something I wasn't prepared for and poor Sargie was on the brunt end of it last night. 

We were driving home from the Milligan Thanksgiving when it dawned on me that I was an orphan. I may be standing on the back porch of life, but how dare Mom go and leave me? How selfish could she be? I mean, I've written this lady an early morning email each and every day since Dad died and called her several times a week for almost twenty years. The reason I began writing a blog years ago was so she and Dad could see the pictures of where I'd been and of my activities.

... and this is how she repays me... by dying and leaving Barb, John, Sargie, and me?

Then my anger turned to fear.

Honestly, I'm scared. I'm damned afraid. I'm petrified. 

It dawned on me that I'm an orphan.

Mama's always been there from the time I was born until yesterday. She's stayed by me through good times and bad and always been my biggest supporter. Mom's given me sound advice when I asked for it, sometime dispensed advice even when I didn't want to hear it, and often was my sounding board, knowing all I needed was to talk. 

Any anger and fear quickly passed when I realized that Dad needed her too. As much as she loved Barb and me, she loved, missed, and needed Dad even more. 

Thankfully, Sargie forgave me for being short with her while I was angry. 

She understood.

You see, she's an orphan too.

Mom loved her grandbabies, her great grandbabies, and her great great grandbaby. Though she seldom got to see any, she had pictures plastered all over her apartment of her family. Mom loved to label each then stand back and look at her collection. 

Three of the four Pennington boys at Mom's 90th birthday party. Andy couldn't make as he was in some far off place drilling for oil.

So Mom's gone on ahead. As Barb said yesterday, there's little doubt she and Dad are dancing and having a great time. 

Allow me...

Dad's young, healthy, and cancer free. Mom is beautiful. Her long dark brown hair is swishing back and forth as Dad swings her around to the latest Glenn Miller tune. 

They're sitting at a table between songs, heads close together and there's little doubt that Dad's saying something borderline inappropriate. Whatever it is, it's making Mom laugh and giggle like a college age girl, because now, once again, that's just what she is.

The band is beginning to play again.

It's one of Dad's favorite songs, In the Mood.  The boy's hopping out of his chair heading to the middle of the dance floor when suddenly, he remembers he forgot Mom. Turning around and grabbing her hand, Dad can be heard saying, "C'mon Hedy, LET'S DANCE."

And dance they will. 

Just a couple of things.

Mom, thanks for being the best mother in the world. No child could want for better. You'll always be my mommy.

Oh, and do me a favor, would you... save a dance for me. I'll be along some day.

Meanwhile, you and Dad have fun catching up.

It's time to close now. Just remember, Mama, I will always love you.