I could easily become a hermit if left to my own devices. I have no energy and no ambition. So begins another Sunday morning and the second Mother’s Day without my mother. Mothers’ Day will always be a memorable day, not because of its name/label. It is because it is the day before Mothers’ Day in 2024 that my mother fell and broke her hip. I was just preparing to sit down at Pink Candillac restaurant with my friends when my phone rang. It was my father saying my mother fell. Can I come and see.
The rest is history as the saying goes. It’s not good when a senior falls and breaks a hip. My mother survived the surgery and the hip. She spent 6 weeks in the hospital. Her hip was not a problem but the rest of her couldn’t take the trauma. On a beautiful October day we bade her farewell. She saw the sunrise and the sunset as she wished. And so here I am, on the second anniversary of that fateful fall. And perhaps it was fate. She was tired and looking for a way out.
I am solemn and melancholic but also feeling grateful that my mother is not suffering any more. I am comforted that she is at ease in her forever home. I read this post written by Edward Curtin about his mother, Rita Rose: A Mother, an Artist and a Soul Still Speaking. I hope you will enjoy it.
onethousandandtwo 