Saturday, April 20, 2019

Remembrance- #AtoZChallenge



Today, there is so much to remember.

Today is the 20th anniversary of Columbine.  No, not the flower.   To Americans it means something else.  As a former teacher at Columbine explains, "it's a brand...a verb, a metaphor".  Our shooting in Binghamton, New York (in an adult classroom) on April 3, 2009 (our 10th anniversary just passed), in fact, is tied with Columbine in number of deaths - a grim statistic.  The pain the people of Littleton, Colorado are feeling today is unimaginable.

The week of April 15-20 is a grim one in United States history.  The assassination of Abraham Lincoln.   The bombing in Oklahoma city (April 19, 1995).  The sinking of the Titanic.

Remembrance. Which leads me to this.

We all like to remember the happy parts of our lives.  Call it nostalgia.
I can remember good times visiting Charleston, South Carolina, and walking on the Ravenel Bridge.

Life has given me many R's to write about.
Such as a beautiful Redbud blooming in West Virginia in April of 2017.

But not today.

We are entering a portion of life, my spouse and I, too often devalued in our Western society.  That should not be. In some societies, the elderly are honored as keepers of wisdom.

Several months ago, I blogged about "human wormholes" and my spouse's last living aunt, who was alive when the Titanic sank and survived a worldwide flu epidemic.  She witnessed all the events above, and many, many more.

Today, I have something sad to report.  My spouse's 107 year old aunt has been placed in hospice care.  She has months, possibly only weeks, left to live.

My spouse and I traveled down to see her last month. She had lived at home until last December, when her younger son, who was caring for her, died unexpectedly.  She was then cared for by a niece who lives in her neighborhood, with extensive help from aides.  But it could not be sustained.

I won't be more specific except to say it was heart rending.  Dementia has taken her to a place of pain and suffering.

The ending of life can be very, very hard and I am not sure we will be able to see her again to say a formal "goodbye". 
Sunset, May 2017
So this post may have to do.  Today, while she is still alive, I remember her.  I remember first meeting her, almost 50 years ago, and admiring her fine crochet and her beadwork.  She made the most beautiful doilies and beaded flowers.

She told me stories of when she was young and the miles she would walk to and from her job.

She told me about how she contributed to the war effort during World War II.  She told me of watching her neighborhood change from one mostly rural to an urban one.

This woman who walked from one city to another can not sit unassisted anymore.  She can not feed herself.

We are left with our memories, even as she loses her.  What can I say but farewell, dear in law.

Have you had to say goodbye to someone you've loved for years?

"R" day on #AtoZChallenge.  My theme:  Finding America through Photos.


13 comments:

  1. I am sorry that you are going through this hard time. It is heartbreaking to see someone go, and take their memories with them. Especially when the memories go first. Thank you for sharing with us.

    The Multicolored Diary

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  2. I'm sorry to hear about your aunt but for how long she has lived on earth it should be a celebration really. Love hearing about her today. I lost my father this month. He was 91 years old. Jackie's Bookbytes Letter R

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  3. 107, she had a long and interesting life. I hope her remaining days are comfortable. I am sorry you are going through this.

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  4. 107? Wow, that's fantastic.

    I never feel as though I've "lost" someone. The people that I've loved are still with me. I can't pick up the phone and talk to them or go visit them, but they live on in my heart and mind. It'll be the same with your spouse's aunt.

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  5. When my mother was dying, I had similar feelings. I cherished all that she had given me, but I also knew that when she died her memories went with her. My husband actually interviewed his mom an got lots of her history on tape. I never did that. Now I wish I had.

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  6. 107 that's wonderful! A long life to live. I'm sorry to hear what your family is going through right now. I know it's not easy seeing someone waiting for the time. Your post reminded of my mother-in-law.

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  7. Your Aunt had plenty to share hope someone records her.
    Coffee is on

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  8. I'm so sorry. Dementia is taking way too many of our elders.

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  9. Saying good bye knowing it will be the last time is difficult, made more so when a relationship is bound by love and mutual respect. My condolences to you and your family.

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  10. I lost my grandmother when she was 101. As I drove across country to meet up with family, I had to stop at a rest area to cry. Then I realized that I have so many delightful memories with her, of all people, I should be joyous! Her great-grandchildren missed out on all the memories that I have and can still cherish.

    Remember her well. I'm sure you will.
    Found you through AtoZ.
    Doesn't Speak Klingon

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  11. Alana,

    Oh wow, that's amazing your husband has an auntie who's 107. She has seen more of life than many of us probably ever will. I'm sorry to hear she's in the last stages, though. Hopefully, the coming days will be merciful. Saying prayers for the family during these trying days to come. God bless!

    A2Z Little Mermaid art sketch series with 'Ray-Ray'

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  12. A beautiful, yet sad tribute to your husband's aunt. She'll leave an immense legacy.
    May her remaining time be as peaceful and pain free as possible.

    My Grandma is 99 and was a fugitive from Hitler's Germany. She and her family came to what is today Israel when she was 14. You can imagine she has a story or two to tell.

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  13. A wonderful life and a well-told story in her honor. Thank you.

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