When people find out my mom was 93 when she died, their reaction is usually surprise that she lived such a long life. Her children's biggest surprise was that she didn't live as long as we thought, or expected, or wanted.
My grandmother Leah lived to be 102 years old. Her sister, my Mom's aunt, also lived to be 102. These were not ladies who spent a decade or so in a nursing home. My grandmother lived alone at a senior apartment until she was 100, and only then needed more intense care.
But of course, when my Grandma reached two years past the century mark, her death was no surprise. When I spoke with my Mom after, she said something I'll never forget. She said of course she knew her mother was old and sick and couldn't live much longer. But she added, "I'm just going to miss how she made me feel when I was with her."
I thank my Mom for giving me the words to express how I have felt since she died, one year ago today. She was "only" 93 and didn't approach the sort of longevity we had come to expect from the other females in her family tree. She was frail and very sick. But her mind was still there, her love was still there, her sweetness, gentleness, and she never lost that quality that defined her - she was a true lady.
In the last fifteen years of her life we had the whole country separating us, but closeness was never an issue. She wasn't the kind of mother who expected a phone call on some sort of scheduled basis, but we talked often. She always picked up the phone with the most incredible joy, as if my call made her entire week. So often this last year, when issues big and small came up, my first thought was to call my Mom to talk about it. It was rough when her house sold, it really hit me then that any visits back East will now be missing the best part. My Mom was right, I just miss how she made me feel when I was with her.
