Bye Mom

My mother died yesterday.

She was a good mom. She was a good grammy. She was a wonderful wife to Dad; she was his ‘Dolly’. She was a very nice person.

The last few years were frustrating for her, as she had to move into a Memory Center. She got excellent care, though, so my brother and I were confident it was the right place for her…and she was still in her beloved Maine, even though it wasn’t the way she remembered it.

Mom grew up in Dorchester, Massachusetts. She was a jewish girl; her family didn’t have much, but they had enough. She had two brothers, Len and Joe. It’s funny, but I don’t know much about her as a young person; she didn’t tell stories about herself. She met Roger Steinharter and became his rock. He loved her more than anything in the world and would tell us that all the time. He called her Dolly, and I don’t even remember why. She kept him on an even keel and loved him. She cared for him when he got Alzheimers and finally died in 2005. She then outlived him by 17 years, leaving us finally in 2022 at the age of 90.

Harriet was her real name. Harriet Fox. She was good mom. She was kind, patient, almost a saint. She never lost her temper, never lost her cool, never overreacted to anything. If we got sick she just told us to ‘take an aspirin.’ I wish I remembered so many more things about her from growing up. Maybe they will come as I think more about her. She and Dad lived in a few places while we were growing up, but one year they discovered a little island off the coast of Maine called Deer Isle. It was over 50 years ago and I was a little boy, but I still remember that first summer and how they fell in love with Deer Isle. The started renting places for two weeks at a time in the summer, until Dad started to contemplate retirement. “Florida is for old people,” Dad would say, and so they bought some land on the water, built a house and moved in. They spent almost 14 beautiful years in Stonington Maine, on Deer Isle. They lived their year round and Mom would admit that the winters were long, but they stayed and they made friends and they loved it there more than anything. Maine became everything for them both. When Dad got sick (Alzheimers) and we took the difficult decision to sell their house and move them off the island for access to better health care….that was the worst day of my life, picking them up and driving them off the island and down to Connecticut. After Dad died, Mom insisted on moving back to Maine, and so we made it happen. It wasn’t like living on the island, but at least she was in Maine till the very end.

My girls were their first grandchildren. Dad wasn’t quite sure at first how to bond with a little girl as they only had me and my brother. He figured it out, of course and taught Katie how to draw and paint. Mom, however, was beside herself – so happy to finally have little girls. She doted on them and loved them so much. She stayed close with my girls till the day she died. In recent years they would visit her, talk to her and when I visited I would always Facetime one of the girls so she could say hi and ask how they were. They were the ones who brought a smile to mom’s face every time.

The last week of her life was remarkable. We knew she was failing; she had entered into hospice care, lost weight and had little energy. She wasn’t communicating at all….until my girls got there. Mom always had a special bond with Katie, my oldest. I guess it was because she was the first grandchild, and the daughter that Mom never had. Katie was always so patient with Mom – better than me by far – and they made each other light up. Katie showed up and Mom got out of bed for the first time in I don’t know how long (weeks?), and went outside in the sunshine and spent two hours in conversation with Katie. A few days later she was gone. It was almost like she had waited to see her, and see all of her grandchildren. Somehow she knew that they would all be in Maine for this week and would all come to see her. They did, and then she decided it was enough and passed away peacefully yesterday morning.

I’m not a religious person, but sometimes I see that things work out in mysterious and beautiful ways and marvel at it. Two weeks ago I went to Colorado to visit Katie – she bought us tickets to a bluegrass festival in Telluride. We got to spend a week together and we thought about Dad/Grampy a lot, as he was a bluegrass fan. We both felt like he was watching us that week. This week we all gathered around Mom and she waited for us to do so before leaving. Maybe he was watching that too, making sure that his beloved Dolly got the good byes that she so deserved? I don’t know, but it’s nice to think that way sometimes.

My mom and dad are now gone. I do feel sad. I miss them, I wish I could talk to them some more, and of course now I feel mortal. They made me what I am, which first and foremost is a good father and husband, with good values.

Thanks Mom. I love you and will miss you. Soon your ashes will join Dad’s here in your beloved Stonington, Maine…and we will think of you both constantly, now that we have our own home in the land that you love.