I weathered many of life's ups and downs consulting with my mom, from before college, during my college years, through my early career and even into my own middle age as a community college professional.
Her intuitive skills, the magical way she could read people, her creativity, her effortless cooking, all enriched my life. For those who know MBTI personality preferences, she was a true ENFP: a free spirit, charming, independent, energetic and compassionate; an advocate.
Mom had a grand style--she loved art, huge comfy furniture one could nest in, and loved to find treasures in thrift shops and antique shops with which to decorate her home. We loved loading up and trekking to visit Mom when she lived in Nipomo and Palm Desert.
She was the perfect grandmother, not only taking Perry and her buddies out hiking, horseback riding, swimming, and mani-pedis, but she took Perry to Ixtapa and Cabo San Lucas for lovely beach trips.
To our chagrin, as she advanced in age, Mom was a rolling stone. She said she'd gotten used to it after living as a military wife. We'd move every few years then.
After leaving the desert, Mom wanted to keep moving to the next intriguing location... She even had a short stay in Santa Barbara, which was just too far away when she needed help with something. I remember schlepping the 90" drive to help her with this or that.
As dutiful children, Maurece and I would pack her up and set her down in a new place. Even after we settled her in a senior community here in Pasadena, her eyes would lock onto new condos and apartment buildings that we'd pass by in the car, wondering out loud what they were like inside!
Mom suffered for about 20 years with pain from a fall at work that caused serious injury to both of her shoulders. Her ability to live with pain for so long showed me how strong she was. Even now the thought of that constant pain wets my eyes.
She survived a heart attack from last July, but never fully recovered at her advanced age, and died from complications related to that. What a fighter she was, but ultimately decided she'd had enough. "I've lived a good long life, longer than my mother and father and sister," she said. We gazed at each other, then, for a very long time as I started to weep. She gave me a kiss that I will always remember.
My brother and I were busy fussing with getting her tv and cable box into her bedroom where she finally agreed to lie down in the hospice hospital bed that she didn't like. She went to sleep (or transitioned) while we were trying to keep the noise down, and didn't wake up.
I love you dearly, Mom. You were an amazing woman.