I was really hoping that I was done for a while with eulogizing family members. And although the scenario is different, the level of difficulty with finding the right words remains.
With my uncle back in February, it was all about figuring out how to deal with the gut punch of losing someone so vivacious and so young with barely enough time to prepare for it. Like the tearing of a Band Aid, it was quick, and it was painful.
Six months later, his mother has too left this world, perhaps with the great fortune of never knowing that her son went before her. That she lasted as long as she did - nearly 94 years - while in years of perpetually failing health and stricken with dementia so far advanced that she barely recalled her own name, much less those of her family members, is miraculous in and of itself. It's a true testament to her notorious stubbornness (that her daughter - my mother - inherited tenfold).
But to witness the slow regression occur was nothing short of heartbreaking. It was long, and it too was painful.
However, I choose to remember the Claire who remembered herself and those around her. The body housed her continued existence, but it was always her mind that was most valuable, which was the cruelest irony of her demise.
She was an avid reader who knew a little something about practically everything. Her daily ritual of absorbing the Philadelphia Daily News from cover to cover in conjunction to her ability to retain hours upon hours of headline news on TV ensured that she could hold her own in practically any conversation, be it politics, sports, entertainment, or the latest construction taking place on the Schuylkill Expressway.
With age came a new level of feisty and good luck if you got on her bad side and received a "shut the hell up," typically said with a smile, but also with enough sincerity that you knew to do just that or else.
But what I'll appreciate most is the relationship I saw her and my mother have. The only other maternal bond I've seen like that I get to witness every day at home with my wife and my stepdaughter, and she and our daughter are well on their way to having the same. It's one that looks to be forming now between my mother and sister, as well, and I believe it's fair to say that Mom-Mom helped to make that happen.
It was truly the circle of life, as Mom played the quintessential caretaker, devoting the vast majority of any spare moment ensuring that her every need was catered to. It was stubborn taking care of stubborn, with one finally relenting and ultimately setting the other free.
What we now have is the benefit of something she no longer did at the end: The memories. Those memories hold both pain and pleasure, but perhaps to appreciate the latter, one must experience the former.
My memories will be selective, comprising of a sharp, witty, soft spoken person and incredible listener, who lived a full life full of love and worldly experiences, a life that seemed to have simply lasted past the intended expiration date.
The moment she had no idea who I was is when I began mourning the Mom-Mom I knew and loved. Now I can begin celebrating the Mom-Mom who also knew and loved me.
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