One year....

It's difficult to believe that tomorrow will be one year since Mother passed away. Thinking back, around this time last year I was rushing from Boulder, CO to get to the Denver airport to fly to Philadelphia as quickly as possible. I flew a "red-eye," but it wasn't the time of the flight that caused the red eye. Would I make it back in time? She had a stroke and the doctors didn't think that she would survive it. I didn't make it back in time to see her alive, but I tried my damndest and, in my heart, it's okay. I believe she "knew" that I was coming "home" as fast as I could. It was awful. So unexpected. This was NOT the way it was supposed to be, but in the scheme of things, it was the best. Mothe would never have understood and possibly never would have survived Dad's terminal illness. She was fortunate not to fully understand how sick Dad was and was going to be. Maybe in the far reaches of her mind, she really did understand and perhaps that is why she chose to be the one to leave first. It was so hard to see the pained look on Dad's face when he would realize that Mother was not around anymore, but he was so much stronger than her emotionally. Mother put on such a good front of being tough and strong, but she really wasn't. She was protected from the harsh realities of life for most of her life. And, there were so many horrible realities in her life. Not that she was weak, in any sense of the word, but there were parts of life with which she chose not to deal or recognize. Mother was and continues to be deeply loved and even though I didn't live close enough to see her often, knowing that she isn't around to see anymore just makes my heart ache so much.

This is the last picture that I took of her. We were on our way, as luck would have it, to a memorial service for a friend of Mother and Dad's, Kay Sano. It's not a great picture, but it's the "last" and that, in itself, reminds me so much of Mother....

Buying a suit for Steve and Adriana's wedding, we were at Lord and Taylor's in the city (the former John Wanamaker's) and I found a suit. Mother had convinced Dad that he, too, needed a suit -- "It'll be your LAST suit," she said. To which Dad, Jean, and I were so shocked! And yet, that was so Mother...to speak without thinking what she was saying. No cruelty was ever intended, she just spoke what was in her mind. There was a naivete about it, I think. Now, "last" can't be said without thinking of Mother. And, as Fred and I continue the process of unpacking and settling into our dream house, we refer to it as our "last" house. (We have no intention of moving again, unless it's inside of a black, plastic bag with a zipper -- or, to a rest home when we won't know what's going on.) We just purchased out "last" mattress set and our "last" dining room set. I'm sure there will be more "last" purchases and, perhaps not so "last" ones, too, but somehow shopping and Mother just all tie together. It's the Kurokawa side of her coming through -- a family of shoppers. I never begrudge having been lucky enough to have inherit that gene.

I wonder how I am going to make it through tomorrow....HER "anniversary." If I didn't have a meeting with my boss, I would take tomorrow off and spend it with my memories. We'll see how I feel when the morning comes.....I may not have a choice in the matter as my emotions may make the decision for me.