Sometimes it seems like nothing ever went quite right for my mother. It took her three marriages to find one that fit. She loved to work, but seldom stayed long where she was. Then, when she passed on, the timing went all wonky and as of when I'm writing this--four days later--we still don't know exactly when the service will be.
It's all bad timing and red tape. You see, instead of a viewing and funeral, followed by cremation (which I didn't know she wanted until after she died), the family decided on the cremation first followed by a service. The reasons boil down to bills and money, and that's something that never quite went right for my family, either. Maybe it's crass and not something people want to think about, but that's the way reality often is.
All I can tell you is that sometime toward the end of the week (turns out it's Friday at 11 a.m.) we're going to gather to say goodby at the Albion Wesleyan Church, at 800 E. Main Street in, as you might imagine, Albion. Mom wanted to have her ashes scattered at Piney Point, Tennessee, a place she and the family loved to go to on vacation every summer.
That's not as surprising as you might think, considering she was born about two hours away, in Fonde, right over the border in Kentucky. It's going home, and home is where she wanted to be. She especially hated hospitals and nursing homes, and that's where she was stuck, one or the other, for the last weeks of her life. She wanted to get out--go home--but as time went by she got weaker, and I realized she was never going to go home again. She would have been miserable, staying in a facility for any more time to speak of, fighting the effects of stroke, congestive heart failure, diabetes, and failing kidneys.
I think she let go. If that time comes for me, I hope I find the courage.
|Linda Welch married Harry Taylor on the first day of spring, 1998.|
|Mom lived for family gatherings. Here she's second from right in a five generation photo, including her mother, a son, two granddaughters, and three grandchildren.|