Mortality

 Life and death are on my mind today. Our friends in South Carolina lost their father last night. He lived a beautiful life for 93 years. He was one of the kindest, sweetest men I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. A long time ago - back in the early/mid '80s mom moved in to the house kitty-corner from the Thompson family; their backyards connected to a point, and both yards were fenced. Their grandson, Travis, was the first to meet mom, and soon the family became entwined. I think he told mom she would go to hell for cursing - or so the story goes - when he heard her out in the back yard. At first they used a stepladder to go over the fence to visit (going around the corner StreetSide was not nearly as fun!), and eventually they put a gate in for easy access. True backdoor neighbors. Mom and Jan drank coffee, smoked cigarettes, crafted and chatted for hours and years, seemingly on end. The Thompsons were second family to us all - even if we did not live close by. 

Life and death happen - mom died suddenly, then Jan a few years later, in a not so-sudden slower path. We have taken solace that mom and Jan were in heaven together watching all of us. Now John has joined them so many years later. His life without Jan was lonely, I know. Despite children and grandchildren close by - despite Kerri moving in with him this past year. He has to be at peace in the arms of his love again - and I believe that mom is right there in the house across the backyard, still.

Last week my friends lost their mother/mother-in-law, Veronica. She, too, was 93. She had 11 children and a plethora of grandchildren. Another beautiful life lived. She was a devout Catholic and supported her church in so many ways and capacities. Last night at the viewing I was enthralled by the family photos through the years; showing her young, progressing as the children came along, and life just continued into older age. Such beauty in a life lived so well and for so long. To be so adored by one's children; true blessings and joys. Life in a large family is not always easy. It is often messy and full of angst. But family, through thick and thin, bond in so many ways and it's lovely to live in the middle of that chaos.

Today is the "Deathaversary" of my friend Maryann's mom, Louise. Louise died just a few months shy of her 90th birthday. She was full of life - full of joie de vivre. She exuded it in her smile, in her appreciation for the smallest pleasures and her zest for being part of everything. Her death at 89 was sudden and unexpected; I truly believed she was a woman who would live until her 100th year at least. 

My own mother died young; just 63. Mom-Carole was 80. My mother-in-law was not yet 60, nor was my grandmother. Tammy's mom was young as well; just 70. Sometimes we lose loved ones when it feels they are not yet done living.

The legacy people leave behind is joyous, to me. So many experiences, so much happiness and sorrow; so many changes brought about by the world as a whole. To leave a family behind is to be remembered. I did not know Veronica, but I know several of her children, and I know that they live lives that reflect how they were raised. I knew Jan, John, Louise - my mom(s). I remember smiles and laughter; bountiful love and sorrow. I remember lessons learned, conversations both fun and heavy all around. Life is so very beautiful. And, in death, so are the memories. In a memorable movie line from Ghost with Patrick Swayze and Demi Moore, Patrick tells Demi - "it's amazing the love inside? You take it with you".

I started searching for photo's to share here with my words - and so quickly became flooded with thousands of memories. Mom's together, aunts, uncles, cousins no longer with us, yet preserved with smiling faces as we captured moments in photos. So many moments, so many blessings. The love inside - you take it with you, but it also stays inside to warm our hearts as we remember.