Imperfect Machines
Sep. 9th, 2021 09:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tracker7And, just like that, she wasn’t. Mom died a little after midnight last night, in the first minutes of September 8.
Dad said that around 11:45, she got out of bed and walked into the kitchen and sat down in her favorite recliner. They spoke for a moment, and Mom went back to sleep. Dad nodded off, and when he woke up about a half-hour later, she was gone.
She was at home, comfortable, and asleep. If there is such a thing as a good death, Mom managed it. Physically, her heart - damaged to something like 30% capacity - probably just gave out.
She was facing at least one more surgery for her hip, and wasn’t looking forward to that. Dad said that she spent Tuesday listening to her favorite Gospel radio station; Mom posted some photos of her and Dad to her Facebook page that afternoon. I believe that, consciously or otherwise, she made the decision to stop fighting and go to be with her Lord and Savior.
While the loss hurts so much, I am happy that she is at peace now. I know as sure as anything that in her last breath, her last heartbeat, her final synapse, she loved Dad and her children and grandchildren with her whole heart.
We didn’t always have the best relationship, but over the last decade, we repaired things and became very close. We spent her last Mother’s Day together, sitting on the porch and talking, watching the weather, dozing in the living room, watching a couple of movies, and just being together. I cherish that memory, and so many others now.
Sue Davis, July 1949 - September 2021. Goodbye, Mom. I love you.
Dad said that around 11:45, she got out of bed and walked into the kitchen and sat down in her favorite recliner. They spoke for a moment, and Mom went back to sleep. Dad nodded off, and when he woke up about a half-hour later, she was gone.
She was at home, comfortable, and asleep. If there is such a thing as a good death, Mom managed it. Physically, her heart - damaged to something like 30% capacity - probably just gave out.
She was facing at least one more surgery for her hip, and wasn’t looking forward to that. Dad said that she spent Tuesday listening to her favorite Gospel radio station; Mom posted some photos of her and Dad to her Facebook page that afternoon. I believe that, consciously or otherwise, she made the decision to stop fighting and go to be with her Lord and Savior.
While the loss hurts so much, I am happy that she is at peace now. I know as sure as anything that in her last breath, her last heartbeat, her final synapse, she loved Dad and her children and grandchildren with her whole heart.
We didn’t always have the best relationship, but over the last decade, we repaired things and became very close. We spent her last Mother’s Day together, sitting on the porch and talking, watching the weather, dozing in the living room, watching a couple of movies, and just being together. I cherish that memory, and so many others now.
Sue Davis, July 1949 - September 2021. Goodbye, Mom. I love you.