Six years ago tonight right about this time my Mom passed.
After she moved in next door to me Sunday dinner became our thing. I took care of her yard and she cooked me dinner on Sundays.
She had a tooth pulled earlier in the week so we weren't too alarmed when she wasn't feeling well for a couple of days. That Sunday she didn't feel like cooking so I made her dinner. Steak, mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and she did fry some okra and make biscuits. After dinner she let Rita do the dishes, something she always preferred to do herself. Claimed it was like therapy. We watched a little tv and then I went next door.
A few minutes later I passed the pieces of kidney stones I had been fighting for nine days. I took them next door to show her and she was very relieved for me. Mom had been stressing that ordeal almost as much as I had. She still seemed okay then (about 8:30).
A little after 9:30 she called me asking if I could come over. She stated she was having a hard time staying conscious. I went next door and found her unresponsive. I called the EMT's but she never regained consciousness and passed a little while later.
That last dinner was like when we originally started out. Just Mom, Rita, my grandson Conner and myself. It was a night where we all shared each other's company and enjoyed a little laughter. It is a great last memory.
Usually when I came in from work she would be on her front porch and I'd walk over, sit, and smoke a cigar while we just chatted. Every morning we left about the same time so I usually saw her then for a minute, too.
Six years. I still miss her every day. I still see, read, or think of something and think I'd have to tell her about it later or wonder what she would think about it.
I told her one night at dinner a few weeks before she passed that i would miss her more than she would ever know when she was gone. The problem is I miss her more than I thought I would.
Every day.
