It’s been nearly five months since my mother passed at 88, just two months shy of her 89th birthday. I’ve written about grieving for my mother extensively in this section of AfterTalk, and you are welcome to read my earlier posts written shortly after her death. You don’t have to; here’s the ‘previously…”: it was not
The morning after my mother’s death was filled with process and paperwork, made significantly easier than for many thanks to her meticulous planning. When my father was still alive they contracted for a complete burial package including services, coffins, and interment. We allowed one full day after her death for family to travel to Florida.
After they took my mother to the funeral home, my brother, his significant other, Susan, and I headed back to the hotel in Delray Beach. It was after ten o’clock and almost everything was closed. We stumbled into Boston’s near the beach and convinced them to serve us. A live blues band made it hard
Where to begin? Twenty-three hours ago I held my mother’s arm as she died. She was 89 and I had lived with the probability of her death for years. She had a bad heart and whenever the phone rang and I saw it was from her caregiver, I thought it would be THAT call. Your