Coming Back

My mother died at age 93 after spending 25 years in a Continuing Care Retirement Center, the last 5 in its Health Center. Located 700 miles from our home, we made trips to visit her as often as possible, though never as often as she would have liked. Every

letter, phone call, and visit ended with words of her love and appreciation, then always,

“I miss my family so much.” Especially during those last years, we siblings scheduled our visits throughout the year, so that the spaces between them were, at least, shorter.

Since Mom died last summer, so many inconsequential things now jar my memories, taking me back to the many “rituals” that formed during those treasured trips.

Passing a Baskin Robbins, I visualize the hot fudge sundaes, covered with nuts, and towered with whipped cream, evoking, “Oh I’ll never be able to eat all that!” Then, although she had nearly quit eating at meal-times, watching her polish off her treat and licking the spoon! Store windows decorated with red Valentine hearts and candy…or Easter bunnies and baskets of eggs…or Mothers’ Day flowers and gifts… all cause me momentarily to ponder, “What can I send her this year to bring her a bit of cheer?” Seeing turkeys and Pilgrims at Thanksgiving remind me of her blue and white Pilgrim outfit that she wore for her Community’s annual Pilgrim Fest. When unboxing our Christmas decorations, finding the stocking that I made for her with pictures of her children and grandchildren from top to toe. Sending this to her a week before Christmas each year, filled with seven small gifts, and instructions to open one each day until Christmas, it decorated her room a bit, and added to her anticipation.

When we received the phone call telling us that our mother had died, my brother and I drove south, one last time, to go through her personal belongings in her now silent room, and make final arrangements. As we entered the outskirts of the pretty little town, as we had done so many times before, my eyes flooded with tears and a lump filled my throat, as I thought, “Well, I guess I won’t ever be coming back here again.”

Little did I know … that on those special days and so often inbetween… my mind and my heart would keep coming back.