When Lisa’s Mom was in the later years of Alzheimer’s, she couldn’t remember anyone’s name except her husband’s, who had passed two years earlier. One spring we were watching the Masters golf tournament, and she could remember the names of the golfers, even though she couldn’t remember her daughters’ names.
Beautiful, Jodi. I can relate. When my parents' friends started dying, one by one, it felt like losing a part of my childhood too (so many crazy-fabulous parties they threw in the 1960s), all those "aunts" and "uncles." Mom and Dad were aware of the dwindling gang well into their 90s. It was so sad for so long. They were among the last to go. The "kids" (we're all 70 or older) attended one another's Zoom shivas and shared memories. Anyway, thanks for this. Just beautiful.
Unfortunately, we're at the age now where our own peer group begins to dwindle. When I was a wild thing, I didn't care about folks dying so much, but now? I have so much emotion invested in every relationship that when my first close friend passed, I couldn't/ wouldn't go to his funeral. It hurt too much and we'd already spent a lot of time together knowing it was coming and being there for each other. Thanks for reading, Deb.
I always love your writing, but this was a wonderful piece. We love your Mom for the short stint in life she was in it. She added so much zest to everything and she brought us to you, which we are eternally grateful for. We think of you all often.
One of my favorite photos is you, Mom and Violet walking away. It's shot from behind, and you're each holding one of Violet's little hands. I love that and think of it as her moment with the closest she was ever going to get to grandchild. Thanks to both you and Andrew for your generosity of spirit with Mom and Sal, and Mom even after Sal.
When Lisa’s Mom was in the later years of Alzheimer’s, she couldn’t remember anyone’s name except her husband’s, who had passed two years earlier. One spring we were watching the Masters golf tournament, and she could remember the names of the golfers, even though she couldn’t remember her daughters’ names.
Such a weird, unpredictable disease.
Beautiful, Jodi. I can relate. When my parents' friends started dying, one by one, it felt like losing a part of my childhood too (so many crazy-fabulous parties they threw in the 1960s), all those "aunts" and "uncles." Mom and Dad were aware of the dwindling gang well into their 90s. It was so sad for so long. They were among the last to go. The "kids" (we're all 70 or older) attended one another's Zoom shivas and shared memories. Anyway, thanks for this. Just beautiful.
Unfortunately, we're at the age now where our own peer group begins to dwindle. When I was a wild thing, I didn't care about folks dying so much, but now? I have so much emotion invested in every relationship that when my first close friend passed, I couldn't/ wouldn't go to his funeral. It hurt too much and we'd already spent a lot of time together knowing it was coming and being there for each other. Thanks for reading, Deb.
I always love your writing, but this was a wonderful piece. We love your Mom for the short stint in life she was in it. She added so much zest to everything and she brought us to you, which we are eternally grateful for. We think of you all often.
One of my favorite photos is you, Mom and Violet walking away. It's shot from behind, and you're each holding one of Violet's little hands. I love that and think of it as her moment with the closest she was ever going to get to grandchild. Thanks to both you and Andrew for your generosity of spirit with Mom and Sal, and Mom even after Sal.
We just loved her so much. We love you too:)