My mother usually did what she wanted. She grew up, the child of privilege, and as a young woman was somewhat of a social butterfly. Then she went to a dance, and met a certain Captain. That night, she decided what she wanted was to be with him, rather than the man with whom she had arrived. So, that’s what she did. She decided that she wanted to be with him more. So, they got married.
A war, or two later, she was still doing what she needed to do, to be with him. Moving from place to place, and living in much more spartan accommodations than was usual in her life. But from the beginning of their marriage, her choice was always the same: whenever it was possible, she would be with him.
Some people feel that choice might somehow make her less. That perhaps she might not be what she herself could be, if she chose always to be with him. They are wrong. She became a wife. She became a mother. She also became a bowling champion, a golf champion, and a bridge champion. She became a secretary for School Presidents, Lawyers, and Judges. She became a librarian. She became a carpenter, and house builder. She became a sailor. She climbed up mountains, and down into canyons, and across volcanoes. She did whatever she wished to do, and the thing she wished to do was to be with him.
A year ago, my father died, and since then, she has been alone. My parents’ ashes will be mingled, and scattered in a place they loved. She has done what she wanted to do. She has gone to be with him.
Sounds like your parents were very fortunate to have found each other and you were lucky to have them. You’ve written a lovely tribute to your mother. I’m sorry for your loss.
Tris, I’m so sorry for you, but happy for them. They’re together again and she won’t have to miss him anymore. My Dad is still here, but I know he misses my Mom a lot.
That was wonderful, Tris. I’m very sorry for your loss. I’m sure your parents are together right now, in a beautiful place, doing all the things they loved to do.
A beautiful testament to your parents, Tris. The story could have been written about my grandparents, right down to my grandmother dying almost exactly a year after my grandfather.