My mom passed away Monday, June 9. While I am deeply saddened by her loss, I am grateful to have had her in my life for as long as I did. And I’m thankful that she did not suffer.
Less than one month earlier, she was as cheerful and full of life as ever. Here she is singing “You Are My Sunshine” at the Mother’s Day celebration at her memory care facility.
Just two weeks after this was recorded, I got the call. The one I dreaded every time the landline rang. The one where the nurse does not begin with, “Your mother’s fine.” I cancelled my plans and jumped on the next boat. A week later, she was in the care of the hospice team. A week after that, she passed peacefully in the company of a dear family member.
I was en route to be with her at the moment she passed. And while I am sorry I couldn't be at her side, I’m grateful for all the time I had with her, especially those last couple of weeks.
It sank in that I was going to lose her on the day the hospice nurse informed me it was “A matter of days… sometimes they surprise us and it’s weeks.” By this time, Mom was rarely speaking. And when she did, it was with a tiny, frail whisper. Over the years, she had a handful of catchphrases she repeated. Among them, “We had a good time.” So, having just received the news that the end was near, I held her hand and stroked her hair and said, “We had a good time, didn’t we, Mom?” To which she replied in a faint whisper, “You better believe it.”
Another memory I will cherish is sitting at her bedside in those final days with my guitar, singing songs for her. I could see her moving her lips in an attempt to sing along. In addition to old songs of mine and classics she loved, I played a mellow, toned-down version of my new single, “You Called Me Kid,” which I dedicate to her and my late father. One evening, I was joined by family members who chimed in with harmonies on the last chorus. I lost it. I blubbered my way through the outro, singing through the tears.
Ten years ago, I sat with my dad at his bedside in his final days. He said he was ready to go. He had a great life. His only concern was how Mom would get along without him. “Take care of Mom,” he said. “She’s a neat gal.”
She certainly was a neat gal. And I was lucky to call her Mom.
Peace & Love Songs,
Pete
PS: The photo at the top of this post is a still taken from the video for “You Called Me Kid.” Here is another favorite of mine that didn't make it into the video.
“You better believe it.” You can't ask more than that.
Your mom was my music/choir teacher at both Wilkes and Rolling Bay Presbyterian. I learned to love and appreciate music from her. Four of us formed a quartet within the choir called the Drogeans in her honor that made her laugh but she gave us solos. About 15 years ago, me and my family paid a visit to your mom and dad on Bainbridge. She loved seeing me w wife and kids (she had met my wife to be at church once and gave me a huge endorsement to that girl friend; something I’ll never forget). Both your parents were very gracious and loving. Your mom’s teaching of Peter and the Wolf is how I learned to distinguish instruments in symphonies. Sorry for your loss. Her greatness will live on in all who knew her and were blessed by her teaching.