Tag: death

memorials

Today is the sixth anniversary of my mother’s death. I know many people who, even decades later, tell me they think of their deceased mother every day. I confess that I can’t make that claim. While I spoke to my mother nearly every day of my life, this became increasingly difficult in the last months of her life as her heart failure robbed her brain of oxygen. After her death, I had many months of flashbacks to those last difficult years, while also dealing with my father’s grief. He used to talk to and about my mother often, but, over time, his own heart failure erased the memory of her death. Toward the end, he would ask when she was coming to visit him in the skilled nursing unit and all I could say is that he would see her soon.

The photo above is of the memorials we placed at the memorial park where their cremains are inurned. I wrote this post explaining their significance when we placed them in 2022.

On Mother’s Day, I went to visit their resting place and was shocked to find that our memorials had been removed. I contacted the office, hoping that they had been placed in storage but they were just gone.

Alone in the room near my parents’ grave, I cried and told them I was sorry that these special memorials had been lost.

I think that is the only time that I have spoken aloud to my parents there.

My family has been supportive of me as I’ve dealt with the loss of these special and meaningful memorials to my parents. I’ve decided to print a photo of them and put it in a plastic frame to place on the table near their grave. That way, if it disappears, I would be able to replace it easily.

In the post linked above, I wrote about feeling more at peace when we placed the memorial. I think I had come to a place in living with loss where I could set aside the trauma of my parents’ final years and deaths and have better memories surface. I’m not sure if that is the point where I stopped thinking about my parents every day or not.

What I do know every day is that my parents gifted me not only with life but also with the foundation of who I am.

Their legacy is always with me, whether or not I bring it to consciousness.

Mother’s Day 2025

This photo from almost eight years ago is three generations of mothers in my family, Nana and me with daughter E holding baby ABC, my first grandchild and Nana’s first great-gandchild.

This Mother’s Day is without Nana, who passed away in May 2019, and with E and ABC living in London, where Mother’s Day was celebrated a couple of months ago.

Here, B baked squash maple muffins for breakfast and is planning a special dinner, chicken and artichokes over artichoke ravioli with a yet-to-be-revealed-to me dessert. Daughter T is here with us, which is a blessing.

Still, if feels strange to not be with any of the other mothers in my family, except in spirit.

I am wearing a shirt that was my mother’s, a gift from our friend Angie, who passed away twenty years ago.

Mother’s Day began as a call for peace. (That post contains Julia Ward Howe’s original proclamation, still well worth reading in our current war-torn world.) Today, I wish peace to all, especially to all who have mothered others, whether still living or deceased.

Love and compassion bring peace.

Twenty years ago

(Hearts by Angie Traverse)

Twenty years ago today, my friend Angie died.

We had met when we were volunteering at the middle school our children attended. Angie was kind and caring and funny and talented and we became friends, although she had a plethora of friends already. Because we were both doing volunteering and taking care of family, we had the flexibility to meet for lunch and chat or work on committee projects. Because Angie’s good will also embraced family, she got to know my parents.

We thought that, one day, we would become grandparents and have multi-generational hangouts.

Unfortunately, a nagging cough when Angie was 50 turned out to be stage 3 lung cancer. It was a shock because she had never been a smoker. Despite all the best efforts of her medical team, the cancer eventually progressed and took her life at 54.

March 25th was Good Friday that year.

There was a charitable fund set up in her name and, for years, I gave to it every year on March 25th and on her October birthday. The last few years, though, the website has disappeared. I think the fund probably had enough contribution for it to be endowed so its work can continue.

I’ve written about Angie before here at Top of JC’s Mind and even had a poem published about our friendship and her loss.

I didn’t know it at the time, but Angie’s death was followed by the loss of my long-time parish community and the death of B’s dad, the first loss of a grandparent for our daughters.

2005 became one of the worst years of my life.

I fear that 2025 may be even worse, especially when I look at what is happening in the United States as our democracy disintegrates and damages lives here and abroad.

Personally, this will be the year where we figure out what is going on with my health and address it or the year where I have to deal with giving up what I thought my life as an elder would be.

A small problem when people are dying or being threatened or losing family members because Trump/Musk/Vance et al think they can break laws, norms, and ethical obligations and concentrate all power in the executive branch.

I am sorry that I am too weak to be out on the streets for protests and have to confine my activities to online posts and messages and phone calls.

I’m hoping we can turn 2025 around after these horrible last couple of months.

Trying – while mourning for those who have been hurt.

And still, twenty years later, missing Angie.

5 years of COVID-19

(COVID Photo by Martin Sanchez on Unsplash)

The COVID-19 pandemic shutdowns began in the United States five years ago this month. I’ve written a lot of posts about it over those years and I’m proud to say that they have been added to the archives of the Newark Valley (NY) Historical Society to be preserved for future research.

To date, there has only been one case in our household, when B contracted it at a work event in November, 2023. Fortunately, T and I did not get sick.

All three of us participated in Phase III clinical trials for the Pfizer/BioNTech vaccine and have kept up to date on recommended doses as the virus has mutated into new variants over these past five years. We’ve also taken other precautions, such as masking and avoiding crowds when virus levels are high. Admittedly, it’s been harder and harder to get information about virus levels in our area as the public health emergency lapsed and reporting became optional.

I do still get some public health and long COVID newsletters that give some information. I found out today, for example, that there is a new variant, BA.3.2, in South Africa that has 50 new spike mutations. It could stay localized and fizzle out; if it out-competes other strains and spreads, it could create a wave similar to Omicron.

As far as the United States goes, I’m concerned that the vaccination rates are likely to fall even further with a vaccine skeptic now in charge of the Department of Health and Human Services. The United States has already suffered over 1.2 million deaths from COVID with millions more dealing with long-lasting health repercussions. Vaccines can help people avert more severe symptoms and decrease the chances of being infected but work best if a large proportion of the population are vaccinated. This also helps protect people who have more fragile immune systems, such as the very young, elders, and people with compromised immune systems.

I believe that information is power, but it needs to be factual information, not wishful thinking or political posturing. We can’t pretend that the virus doesn’t still kill or sicken people and that the United States is not continuing to lose hundreds of people each week due to COVID-19.

To deny the existence of COVID and/or its impact on our lives dishonors those we have lost, those who have been sickened by the virus, their loved ones, and their communities.

Take care of each other and do what you can to keep us all as healthy as possible.

One-Liner Wednesday: Joan’s birthday

in honor of what would have been my friend Joan’s 65th birthday, I’m sharing this post I wrote about her when she passed away in June of this year with love and fond memories.

Please join us for Linda’s One-Liner Wednesdays! Find out more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/11/20/one-liner-wednesday-my-cup/

losing Joan

(Photo by July on Unsplash)

I got news yesterday of the death of a college friend.

Joan and I met in Ron Perera‘s first-year music theory class. Like me, Joan was a western Massachusetts native and a Catholic with close ties to her family. She was a talented violinist. I remember her giving a demonstration to our theory class, showing us all the techniques used to create different sonorities for us to use in our compositions.

For junior year, Joan went to the University of Michigan and decided to transfer there to finish her education. However, “once a Smithie, always a Smithie,” Joan remained a member of the Smith College class of ’82.

Joan went on to a successful career playing in orchestras, concluding with a long tenure with the Kennedy Center Opera Orchestra in Washington, DC. Her performance schedule kept her busy but, two years ago, she was able to attend our 40th reunion in Northampton, visiting family in the area which hadn’t been possible during the height of the pandemic. While we had been keeping in touch over the years, it was the first time in decades that we had seen each other and it was great. We started speculating where we would each be living post-retirement when our 45th reunion rolled around.

Right after reunion, Joan developed COVID. Fortunately, she wasn’t very sick but she was bummed about missing some of her opera performances.

It was a shock when she was diagnosed with acute lymphoma that fall. She immediately began chemotherapy. Due to the intensity of the treatment and her weakened immune system, she had to stay at home, where her husband Paul was her loving and capable caregiver.

In summer of last year, Joan was able to resume performing while her treatment migrated to a maintenance regimen. This January, she was posting about the orchestra.

And, sometime since, her remission ended and the cancer came back with a vengeance.

I didn’t know.

Early this month, I had emailed her some new photos of my granddaughters and Joan sent a reply about how beautiful they are. Sending photos had been something I had done during her home-bound period and continued to do from time to time. I am grateful that I was unknowingly able to add a moment of love and beauty to her final weeks.

Hearing the news of Joan’s death from our Smith friends was a shock and brought waves of tears. It’s also brought to mind this recent Washington Post article, raising the disturbing prospect that SARS-CoV -2 infection may play a role in the development of cancer, particularly rare or unusual ones. It will take years of research to determine whether or not this is the case but the mystery of it all is disquieting.

The final commendation at Joan’s funeral will begin, “May the angels lead you into Paradise.” May there be a beautiful violin waiting for you there, Joan.

Memorial Day

(Photo by Lucas Sankey on Unsplash)

Today is observed as Memorial Day in the United States, set aside to honor all those who died in the armed services.

One of our neighbors has turned their front yard into a memorial for the day with small flags in rows and a sign listing the last names of those killed in recent US military actions, starting with Iraq and Afghanistan.

Remembering them and all who have died in service of the United States today and hoping for peace and comfort for the families who grieve their loss.

Also, praying for peace so that no more deaths will be added to those already suffered over the centuries.

19 years ago

About my friend Angie.

(Hearts graphic by Angie Traverse)

Nineteen years ago today, my friend Angie died from lung cancer. She was only 54. She had never smoked or lived in a house with high radon or worked in a place with known carcinogens but, by whatever combination of genetics and living, cancer appeared and was diagnosed when she was fifty.

She was treated by some great doctors locally and in Boston and she fought hard for four years and some months, but passed away on Good Friday, 2005.

There have been a lot of developments in cancer treatment since then, some of which are advertised on television. I often wonder if any of those medications would have helped Angie live longer and better.

For years, I made contributions on March 25 and on Angie’s October birthday to the charitable fund established in her memory but, a few years back, the online page went away. Now, I just remember and write an occasional post. One of my favorite Angie posts is this one, written when I turned 54.

That year, I also wrote a poem about Angie, which was published by Wilderness House Literary Review:

Fifty-four

We were the October Babes,
You from 1950,
Me from 1960.

On your fifty-fourth birthday,
You managed coffee ice cream with hot fudge
Despite the metastases in your neck.

On my fifty-fourth birthday,
I raise a solo toast with your favorite Coke-with-a-lemon-wedge
To the October Babes being fifty-four together.
*****

This October, God willing, I will turn 64.

I wish Angie were still here, as an about-to-be 74-year-old grandma, mom, artist, and dear friend. The world could use her compassion, creativity, and spirit right now.

Current COVID stats

Update to my COVID post from earlier in the week: Those Nerdy Girls newest post tells us that, using wastewater surveillance, current estimates are that 5% of people in the United States are currently infected with COVID, the largest proportion since the initial Omicron wave two years ago. In the United Kingdom, JN.1 caused a similar wave just before Christmas, with London having an even higher infected rate of almost 6%.

Those Nerdy Girls remind us that about 1,500 people in the United States are dying from COVID every week, making COVID much deadlier than the flu. They also remind us that the COVID vaccine that became available in September ’23 is effective against JN.1 and urge people to receive it if they haven’t already. They also remind people that masking, ventilation, testing, and staying home when you are sick help in avoiding spread not only of COVID but also flu and other viruses.

Please do what you can to keep yourself and others safe and healthy!
*****
Join us for Linda’s Just Jot It January! Find our more here: https://lindaghill.com/2024/01/18/daily-prompt-jusjojan-the-18th-2024/

Lewiston

Another mentally ill man with an assault rifle mowing down people, including children, who were out with family and friends enjoying recreation and sharing meals in another US city. This time, it was Lewiston, Maine. As I write this, there are 18 confirmed dead, although only eight have been officially identified. Assault weapons cause such grievous injuries that even family members may not be able to identify victims by sight, so forensic methods need to be used. Thirteen people are injured.

As of October 27th, the Gun Violence Archive has recorded 566 mass shootings in the United States so far in 2023, which is tragic and appalling. The total number of deaths due to gun violence is 35,389 with 19,800 of those being self-inflicted, which is also tragic and appalling.

The entire population of Lewiston, Maine was listed as 36.617 in 2021. Would we finally be able to get more governmental attention to the issue of gun violence if we think of it as an entire small city dying due to guns rather than looking at each individual instance in isolation?

Even though there is support from over 80% of the public for some gun safety measures like universal background checks for all gun sales, Congress has not been able to pass these into law. The House Representative whose district includes Lewiston has apologized to his constituents for his prior opposition to gun safety laws and now promises to support them. I challenge other members of Congress to look at gun violence in their own districts and states, whether they are mass shootings, individual homicides, accidents, suicides, or woundings, and determine a path to make life safer for all people.

It’s too late for 35,389 people this year but not too late for countless others. Congress, act now.

Photo credit: Photo by Lucas Sankey on Unsplash