Two years ago, on June 9th, I received a phone call around 11 a.m. from the nurse practitioner who cared for my mother. He told me that her biopsy report had finally come back (after a couple of weeks) and that my mother had bone cancer, which had spread to her stomach and probably all over her body. That night she died.
My mother was 96 years old at the time of her death. I miss her and think of her almost every day, but I am grateful that she is out of pain, and no longer living a life that was so compromised by illness.
I honored her memory yesterday by going to Cold Spring, New York, to be in nature, which she loved so much. And to spend the day with two good friends, Barbara and Harvey, who were staying at their friends' home. We went swimming in the pool (actually they went into the hot tub, I was the only one who ventured into the pool - which was a bit cold, but very refreshing.)
It was a perfect day to remember my mother and to take care of myself, as she took care of me for so many years of my life.
I miss you, Mom...more than I can say.