"Running Commentary"

One Hundred One

    It’s Wednesday.  October 20, 2021
    Today would have been Mother’s 101st birthday.
    Would have been, because Mother died two months and two days after celebrating her 100th year on the planet – December 22nd of last year.
    As anyone who has lost a beloved mother and matriarch would tell you, an anniversary like today is a melancholy day of remembrance. The sadness will always be with us, although the acceptance of Mother’s death becomes … well, the only word I can think of is blunted. Much like the sharp edge of a knife, dulled with usage.
One must accept death because we can’t change its ultimate truth. From the moment we’re born, we know the reality – we’re all going to die someday. Every ticket has a hidden expiration date embedded in it.
Tickets will be punched; it’s only a question of when.
    I’m glad Mother hung on until the day after the winter solstice – she knew December 21st is my favorite day of the year. No matter how dark and cold it is, I take encouragement knowing we’ve turned the corner. The solstice is the official dividing line. Imperceptibly, days get longer and warmer.
 I already screwed up the summer solstice for good by getting married on June 21st, seven years ago. Mother ensured I can still celebrate the winter version. Moreover, I can always celebrate the day my divorce became final. And believe me, there are a lot of people willing to second that emotion.
    There’s no doubt in my mind that Mother willed herself to live until that very significant day, marking her 100th year. When Mother was in her 90’s, as each year progressed and got closer, we talked about the significance of hitting 100.
Ten decades? Wowzer! What an accomplishment!
Mother laughed at the thought, but secretly, she wanted it. ‘Twas one more example of Mother’s competitive nature. Much like the disillusioned knight Antonius Block in Bergman’s “The Seventh Seal,” Mother played chess with Death and delayed the inevitable.
I’ll never forget Mother’s 90th birthday. At the big celebratory bash in the First United Methodist Church, I announced that we should reserve the same community room for the same day in 2020. Everyone laughed, including Mother. What a ridiculous thought. Live 10 more years? Mother never imagined living to be 90, much less 100.
    Our motive was selfish – we didn’t want to let go of the woman who was truly the light of our lives. Mother’s motive may well have been to not disappoint us, knowing it meant far more to us than her. How typical – Mother always doing for others rather than herself.
Perhaps too Mother wanted to live to see 100 in order to say goodbye. She knew the time was near, although she never said so. Then again, Mother wasn’t afraid of dying – she looked Death in the eye without a scintilla of fear. Her steadfast faith sustained her.
Although Mother was healthy overall, she acknowledged being discouraged she didn’t have a lot of strength. She could no longer take her beloved Duke for walks. Even walking around the block was difficult – but she could still walk erect without a cane or walker. Mother was a proud woman who disdained any suggestion of weakness.
What sticks in my mind today is the big party we had, with family, friends and well-wishers. You should have seen her –  so resplendent and vibrant. So alive and happy. Mother was elegant in her floor length black velvet gown adorned with sequins. She gave an impromptu speech expressing her great joy in having such a wonderful family and friends.
No one who saw Mother that day could have imagined what would transpire a mere two months and two days later. It was so sudden. And yet, it wasn’t.
Truthfully, after her birthday, Mother wanted to die. She didn’t have a death wish, nothing like that. She was just tired and felt weak. She told me repeatedly it was time – she was ready to meet her maker. It’s something we talked about just as naturally as if we wondered if there was rain in the forecast.
Her ticket punched, Mother went out on her terms.
We can acknowledge there is a big difference between living a long life and having a great quality of life when you get there. Mother was fortunate to have both. Until the end, she continued to balance her checkbook until the last penny had been accounted for. She still read several books a week and watched her favorite TV shows, like Jeopardy. A one-time world traveler many times over, Mother felt as if she had done it all – and she had.
Did I mention she was a card shark? The day before her birthday we played pinochle and dealt the cards in the first game as a “learning hand,” to help someone learn the game. We intended to show our hands and talk openly how we would play it. However, Mother indignantly cried, “NO WAY! NO WAY! Pick up your cards. We’re going to play this hand.” Why doth the woman protest? Because she had a run and 100 aces – a guaranteed winning hand.
Mother won more than her share of card games. But there was another far more important game she won. A game she couldn’t lose.
The game of life.

Note:  It’s show and tell time. Last week – 216 lbs.  Today – 209.  Seven lbs. in seven days. It’s a game I need to win.  I want to beat Mother and live until I’m 101.