Transitions

My mother died this past Tuesday morning, in the assisted care facility in Houston, Texas, where she'd been living for the past five years. She was 81 years old.

From what I can tell from my genealogical research, many of my forebears have had a predilection for living to advanced ages, at a time in history when most folks did not.  While my mother's family has a tendency to various mental issues that act to decrease the quality of life, in my father's family they seem to keep their mental faculties in good shape pretty much up until the end, and living as active a life as they can. There seems to be a core strength they have, even the ones whose physical health is not optimal. They're like the Energizer Bunny; they just keep going and going.

My mother's older sister died in 2007 at the age of 87. My father's two oldest sisters died during the past couple of years, each at the age of 95. His maternal grandmother lived into her nineties, which for the early 20th century was a darn good age. My Dad tells me that during the final three years of her life, his "Granny" felt trapped sleeping inside of her house, so she moved her bed out onto the front porch and slept there. This was a rural area in Texas, where it gets doggone hot during the summers and cold in the winter. From all accounts, she was a tough old character.

My Dad himself is now 87, which makes him one of the last remaining survivors of his generation. He seems to have a healthy understanding of the cycles of life and death. Maybe it's the farmer in him, having grown up in a sharecropping family during the Great Depression -- his mother was a founder of the farmer's market in their area of southwest Arkansas -- or maybe it's just the wisdom acquired from a long life in which he's had much to bear and much to accept.

I've definitely inherited the "farming" DNA. This week I've been turning over the soil in my garden, and this weekend is seed-planting time. (Even though we had a cold front come through yesterday, and a late, light freeze last night.) As to whether I've also inherited the family longevity genes, time will tell. I do feel that core strength present inside of me.

All I know right now is, we (I'm speaking for all of humanity now) live the lives we need to, for as long as we need to. We're doing the best we can, whether we think so or not.

Comments

[Joanne]

I am so sorry to hear about your loss of your mother this week. What sad news, it must be a difficult time for you. Regarding your genealogical research and your farming dna, I once asked a friend of the family who lived well into her 90s what her secret to a long life was. She answered, "Hard work on the farm." But I think that ethic does come from the core strength within, as you mention. Take care, my thoughts are with you.

[Kitty]

Thanks, Joanne. It's been a time of remembering and contemplating ... I feel rather "full", with my feelings and the things I'm now seeing and realizing. As with everything in life, bittersweet.

[Sharon]

Thinking of you during this time of ending and beginning. Take care of yourself.

[Azh]

As I said elsewhere, my thoughts are with you xx

[Kitty]

Thanks, Sharon and Azh.

[Cindy La Ferle]

I have been out of town, and just recently had a chance to catch up to your posts. I am SO sorry to learn about your mother's passing. Wishing you a time of healing and reflection.

[Kitty]

Thanks, Cindy. It's definitely being a time for both deep reflection and healing.