You know which list you are on... and I love you all. Last Friday, I was notified that my mother, Peggy, had passed away. While this is never good news, and there can never be a ‘best’ time to learn of this, the manner and delivery of both were shocking and tragic. I know many of you either have no idea of the nature of our relationship (my mother’s and I), but many of you know exactly the type of relationship we had; somewhat estranged, eternally unpredictable…..
She fell.
For my mother, this could represent much more than this last physical act of falling from a second-floor balcony (I won’t get into the bad stuff; I was always taught not to say anything at all if you couldn’t say anything nice). My mom was hopelessly nostalgic, intrinsically competitive; and I have to remember her as the ultimate vision of herself. She was creative - string arts, sewing, a culinary wiz, a baking fiend (I’m still trying to get her peanut butter cookies perfected). She could be selfless at times – she worked with the Los Angeles Community Action Network (LACAN) to feed, clothe, and house the homeless. She worked with the Culver City Community Center helping Senior citizens with their activities.
As to the nostalgia, maybe my mom was hoping for that simpler time in the 50’s and 60s. Maybe she just liked all the happy memories. As a child, I remember painting ceramic ornaments with our Aunt Verna, her twin sister. Going to auctions, shopping, staying up late talking…. More recently – laughing hysterically at trying to teach me how to crochet (she taught me wrong! I have video proof!).
We all have problems, issues - things we don’t want to deal with. Death is #1 on that list for most (well maybe next to public speaking – to me, this letter almost qualifies as that – I don’t usually burden others with my emotional tribulations). If nothing else, people…. I know it’s uncomfortable, looking your mortality in the face and moving forward anyway, but especially if you have a family to leave behind – make a living trust, write out your will – let someone know exactly what you want to happen. If I had not had that conversation with my mother, I may not have done what she wanted. She was only 64. I didn’t expect to have to deal with the death of one of my parents for 15 years or so. (The men and women on both sides of the family ranged in age from 64 to 100 at the time of their death; I was hoping for the latter end of that range, I guess.)
May you all have started your new year out
…on a much more pleasant note,
Kari
P.S.
If you want to contact me, I am easiest to get via email, or you can contact me on my portable/home number (if you have it - edited for public posting)
