The curfew tolls the knell of parting day,
The lowing herd winds slowly o’er the lea,
The ploughman homeward plods his weary way,
And leaves the world to darkness and to me.
Lee’s mom is dying. She suffered an hour long seizure as a response to antibiotics she received to combat her pneumonia. The seizure caused irreparable and unrecoverable brain damage. She is, effectively, gone. On Monday her sister will be there with her, and bear witness as they take her off life support.
I wish I had gotten a chance to know her when she was bright and active, and not suffering from brain damage. I will never know the woman who raised my husband to be the amazing man I love. I met her only after her illness has dented her personality, and she never recovered. I can only thank her for the job she did, as he is my partner, and my life.
I can’t share happy stories with Lee about her, because I don’t know any. Oh how I want to share any with him that would ease his pain and make him smile, even for a moment. I suppose all I can do is share my love and support, and listen to any stories he wants to tell me. I could gather stories from other family members, but I think I will wait for a better time to do that.
It sucks that she will be dead before her grandson’s first birthday. It sucks that she will miss learning who her grandchildren are, and who they will be. I wish she could be here to be a part of it. We have fought a long battle trying to get her healthy and safe, this was not the end we were hoping for. It is what we have been given.
So for her I place here The Epitaph from Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray. It is my favorite, and brings me comfort to read it. I certainly cannot compose better words. Granted it is written for a man, but the meaning works just the same.
Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth
A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.
Fair Science frowned not on his humble birth,
And Melacholy marked him for her own.
Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,
Heaven did a recompense as largely send:
He gave to Misery all he had, a tear,
He gained from Heaven (’twas all he wish’d) a friend.
No farther seek his merits to disclose,
Or draw his frailties from their dread abode
(There they alike in trembling hope repose),
The bosom of his Father and his God.
We loved you mom.