I was 35 here, with my five year old son off-camera running free in my parents side yard. my mother (just a year into her diagnosis) was cognitively the age of a five year old herself. she and her grandson had become playmates, it was equal parts joy and heartbreak. perhaps it was this day that my dad asked me to write her obituary, I can't remember exactly. he confessed in hushed whispers, behind closed doors, that he was simply unable to wrap his head around it. years went by and we never spoke of it again, he knew I would do it and I repeatedly kept trying to catch the proper words with pen and ink without success. I procrastinated for years, in my superstitions, maybe my logic was that she couldn't die if I hadn't written the obituary, but really it was just that I was challenged with an impossible task. then life takes an abrupt turn, one that no one saw coming. he died before she did. I told her that when she was ready to let go of my hand, my dad would be there to take her other hand. and so it was 234 days after he died... in the same room, with the same window open to let his spirit be free... my mother took her last breath. I opened the same window to usher her spirit out into the night. with eight months between their deaths, I was different yet I cried the same tears. I had told her we would be ok, and the truth is we will be ok. a week from today my father's ashes will find their final resting place at the nations cemetery with full military honors and a twenty-one gun salute. the day after his funeral we'll be celebrating my mother at her memorial service. her ashes will be surrounded by flowers and photos of her amazing life. this is the last week, no more procrastinating, this week I'm trying to wrap my head around her obituary. after all these years and a lifetime of love and loss between this photo and the next. I'm tempted to just write she was loved she was loved she was loved, because it's what keeps repeating in my mind. and while I can quote all the details and all the years of teaching and service and the lives she touched and the joy she shared... what matters most? she was loved she was loved she was loved.
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  • camerashymommaI was 35 here, with my five year old son off-camera running free in my parents side yard. my mother (just a year into her diagnosis) was cognitively the age of a five year old herself. she and her grandson had become playmates, it was equal parts joy and heartbreak. perhaps it was this day that my dad asked me to write her obituary, I can't remember exactly. he confessed in hushed whispers, behind closed doors, that he was simply unable to wrap his head around it. years went by and we never spoke of it again, he knew I would do it and I repeatedly kept trying to catch the proper words with pen and ink without success. I procrastinated for years, in my superstitions, maybe my logic was that she couldn't die if I hadn't written the obituary, but really it was just that I was challenged with an impossible task. then life takes an abrupt turn, one that no one saw coming. he died before she did. I told her that when she was ready to let go of my hand, my dad would be there to take her other hand. and so it was 234 days after he died... in the same room, with the same window open to let his spirit be free... my mother took her last breath. I opened the same window to usher her spirit out into the night. with eight months between their deaths, I was different yet I cried the same tears. I had told her we would be ok, and the truth is we will be ok. a week from today my father's ashes will find their final resting place at the nations cemetery with full military honors and a twenty-one gun salute. the day after his funeral we'll be celebrating my mother at her memorial service. her ashes will be surrounded by flowers and photos of her amazing life. this is the last week, no more procrastinating, this week I'm trying to wrap my head around her obituary. after all these years and a lifetime of love and loss between this photo and the next. I'm tempted to just write she was loved she was loved she was loved, because it's what keeps repeating in my mind. and while I can quote all the details and all the years of teaching and service and the lives she touched and the joy she shared... what matters most? she was loved she was loved she was loved.

  • mythoughtsvisually❤❤❤
  • marina_sorr
  • swirlygirl18May we all have those exact words written about us. 💗
  • the_gardeners_daughterI am sorry for your loss. Beautiful writing
  • ninarund
  • grahamsherrie
  • robanjohnsonOh, my goodness.... I am so, so sorry for your losses. 💞
  • onbradstreetfarmOh, Meredith. You have my deepest sympathy. Losing your mother is a hard, hard thing. Much love to you.
  • ellsojala❤️
  • lisasolomon💓💓
  • lauralouiseyursYour words all fill my heart with such genuine emotion. Such incredible loss you've endured and with such grace...and love.
  • mar_harperAnd she loved. ❤️
  • wmina123Things brings so much emotion to the surface. When my mom was near the end a couple of years ago, dad held her hand and told her "don't go. Wait for me. We will go together." Eight months later he joined her. That they are together once again (like your sweet parents) makes all this bearable. I send you strength, love, and peace. 🙏🏼
  • alessandracave<3
  • instaelisagramThis made me tear up... you are such an amazing person with a ton of strength. You sharing your stories in your words, almost make me feel like I know you in a way (and I am across the world in a Norwegian small town). ❤
  • twothirdsskyYep, in the end, this is what we do, we stand on the shore and wave goodbye to our parents. And it hurts. We try to think of profound and creative things to say, but in a way, nothing really matters - just that they loved, (if they did) and were loved, (if the were). It's sad and it hurts, but death is an inherent part of life. You know what to do with words, just start writing.
  • mainemommaI think this, these words, are just perfect.
  • 70babsYou are such a talented writer...the emotions made me cry. Love to you as you journey to do what you have to do. The happy thing is you have Steve and the lads to hold your hands. 2016 was a year of emotions💜
  • durtcom💔❤️
  • candicemcleanI am so sorry for your loss.
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