Three years ago today my Mom died after the nursing home stay that occasioned some of my posts in the category “Final Glide.”  At the end, she went downhill fast. All in all it was a good death.  But anything like that changes life profoundly.  It can cause old psychological and family issues to well up.  And it caused me to leave off blogging for a long time.

The day of Mom’s death was the hardest and the holiest day of my life.  It ended my last long walk with her through her final days; it began a frightening but finally freeing collision with my early psychological issues. I ended up with a lot of people to thank from the bottom of my heart for their help:  the good people who worked at the nursing home, my friends Eileen and Lila who were there for me, my Rector, Lisa Hunt, and the Hospice nurse.

When someone has died under the care of Hospice, bereaved ones receive occasional letters of condolence and comfort for a full year.  One of these letters from Houston Hospice included this poem, attributed to Paul Irion, First Baptist Church, Albuquerque, New Mexico:

SOMETIMES

Sometimes, memories are like rain showers

Sprinkling down upon us

Catching us unaware,

And then they are gone,

Leaving us warm and refreshed.

Sometimes, memories are like thunderstorms

Beating down upon us

Relentless in their downpour.

And then they will cease,

Leaving us tired and bruised.

 

Sometimes, memories are like shadows

Sneaking up behind us,

Following us around.

Then they disappear,

Leaving us sad and confused.

Sometimes, memories are like comforters

Surrounding us with warmth,

Luxuriously abundant.

And sometimes they stay,

Wrapping us in contentment.