"I\'ll never recover from my mother\'s death. I suppose I knew that someday she would leave this earth and I am grateful that she lasted almost 88 years. But it\'s still so very hard for me. My brother and I could see her health failing over her last year, but I denied all the signs of her being closer to the end - dementia, sleeping longer, not eating, losing lots of weight, age regression, incontinence, heavy breathing, and falling. Over the past few years, I was afraid to travel far for fear that I wouldn\'t be able to come home quickly. Whenever I visitied or called, I tried to give her something to look forward to keep her going...somehow hoping I could help her last forever.
My mother was my strongest supporter ? there to encourage me when I needed it, to cheer me on in every endeavor, and to celebrate my successes. She feed me, clothed me, and prayed for my health and success. She comforted me in times of need. She nursed my wounds and soothed my emotional setbacks. She defended me against injustices and followed up to ensure that I recovered. She saw the best in me and fostered its growth. She sought fun activities and laughed at life\'s oft ridiculousness.
My Mom, Dorothy, was unyielding in her kindness, generosity, honesty, thoughtfulness, and gratefulness. All of my friends loved her too. She loved with all heart, was a hard worker, and liked to have fun. Dorothy approached life with spontaneity, optimism, and joy. She always encouraged me to try new things - and appropriately steered me toward chemistry when I announced I wanted to be an opera singer at age 8. She loved country music and rhythm & blues. She grew up in the Bronx, NY and her accent would come out stronger when she was with her older brother (or when my brother or I did something to make her mad). We enjoyed going to plays, movies, and concerts together. We looked forward to strawberry season. She taught me how to budget, the importance of charitable giving, and to be a good speller ? I still remember the song we made up in 1970 so that I could remember how to spell \'please.\' P-L-E--A-S-E.
I never ever questioned my mother\'s love for me. She was always there to support me - typing papers for me into the wee hours of the night, doing my laundry, driving me to school when I missed the bus ? whatever I needed. I know I am fortunate to have had such a great mother and she has always been a source of my strength. I don\'t feel I can ever recover from losing her. I regret being a brat.
If I didn\'t have her as my mother, I would choose her as a friend ? and I now realize that I have. I\'m grateful for having so many kind and thoughtful friends ? the gifts of food and flowers, driving me to see her, cards, texts, e-mails, and calls all fill my heart and help soothe me at this time of tremendous grief. The traits that I love about my mother are exhibited in my friends. She lives on.
I was able to see her on September 28, 2020. She had several strokes on October 3, 2020 and was hospitalized on October 4, 2020. I went to see her in the hospital on October 5, 2020. She said \"Oh Kymmie! You came so far!\" - always grateful as if an 80 minute drive was on par with a flight from Sydney. She touched my head and gently said ?Don\'t cry, Kymmie? and then we each said ?I love you very much.? She then struggled to say something, but I didn\'t understand her even after repeating it thrice. It sounded like ?chocolate flowers,? ?Chocolate for us,? or ?chocolate flourish.? Deciphering this message haunts me. A dear friend took me to visit again on October 7, 2020, but sadly I was a few hours too late. My brother and I sat with her awhile before going to make funeral arrangements. I\'m glad she didn\'t suffer and didn\'t get cancer (one of her fears). While I\'m not religious, I hope she will be reunited with all those who have passed that she loves and love her back. Imagining her happy gives me some peace.
Her daughter, Kymberlee"