Two years ago this morning, on a sunny, crisp fall day, my Mom died. She was declining for days prior, lying in her bed at the adult family home, family sitting vigil at her bedside. The morning before she died she woke up enough to recognize MM and me before slipping back into a coma of sorts. The next day, she was gone, somewhere around 7:30 to 8 AM.
At that sacred moment of her death, my Dad was in the living room at the home, I was en route, driving and my sister not far behind me in her car. The lovely person in attendance with Mom at the very moment of her last breath was Yerusalem, a very dear and loving caregiver. I'm so glad it was she who was in attendance. I so wanted to be there, holding Mom's hand. I will regret always ignoring my instinct to stay the night and coming on home to sleep. These are things that can never be undone.
Today on my drive to work, drops of rain fell from grey skies. Temperatures were in the low 50's. I thought about Mom and all of life that has been lived since her passing. I longed for her presence here and now. I longed for her advice, her wisdom; especially now when there is so much about my life's plan that has been upended.
I figure I will always miss her. Mom missed her mother decades after her death. This may be a loss from which we never fully recover.