I became an orphan on 11/28/2015, at 4:57 pm.
At that time, I, and my 4 sisters and brother Sam, lost our 93 year-old Mother, Zenith Palmer Thorpe.
None of us were surprised.
We think she decided to concede the inevitably of crossing into the next plane of living.
I knew she resented the impositions of aging.
An avid reader, it had been years since her eyesight was clear enough for her to read. Her foggy vision also kept her from creative sewing projects she once excelled at.
Yet, her mind remained crystal clear.
And, although, years ago, she’d conned her way into admittance to an assisted-living facility, she could still take care of herself.
About a month ago, that changed…
She started having problems eating and drinking.
Weakened from lack of nutrition, she could no longer get around very well.
That meant she had to relinquish some of the total control she’d fought for her entire adult life.
The final straw, I suspect, was staff members ‘threatening’ to bathe her.
That’d be the day!
Trust me, it never happened.
Some how she managed to take care of her personal grooming to the end.
But, within two weeks from being considered unable to clean herself, she left this space we call life and passed onto whatever comes next.
And, I’ll guarantee, she made that decision, as her final act of living her way.
This amazingly complex woman’s life will be remembered by few.
And, I intended this to be an homage to her.
I found I can’t. It’s too soon.
Yet, the small scope of her life – that I know, influences d*mn near ever moment of my life.
Sadly, I’ve never been so aware of that, as I am now.
When the words come, I will talk about her and try to voice what she meant. But, it won’t be today.
Today, I’m feeling the emptiness of losing the biggest anchor of my life…