Tuesday, May 7th

Two and a half weeks ago I received a Happy Anniversary card from my 94 year-old mother. Enclosed was some cash for a “special anniversary dinner”, and a note saying she had just spent ten days in the hospital after experiencing some difficulty breathing. She asked my brother Rick, who lives with her, not to call me because she didn’t want anyone to worry about her. To my recollection, this was the first time that Mom ever had an extended stay in the hospital, so I called Rick to get more details. He told me that mom was suffering from congestive heart failure and some related problems. I admonished him a little for not letting me know and asked him to please call if there were any further problems. A few days later Rick called to say that Mom was back in the hospital with pneumonia. I drove up to Riverside to see her a few days later and was shocked to see Mom, who up till a few weeks ago had always been strong and healthy (except for a severely arthritic hip which required her to use a walker), lying in bed with a respirator, a feeding tube, and IV’s. She was sleeping when I arrived, but woke up a few times during my visit, smiled and tried to say a few words. It was difficult to understand her through the respirator, but she obviously knew who I was and was happy to see me. She seemed peaceful and was not in any great pain. Rick told me that when he was taking her to the hospital she said, “Boy, I really went downhill fast.” On the evening of May 1st I was having dinner with my daughter Leela and my mother-in-law Jetty when the phone rang. Normally I don’t answer the phone during dinner, but when caller ID identified my brother Rick, I picked up the phone. I had spoken to Rick earlier in the day and he said that Mom seemed slightly improved, so I was quite surprised when he told me she had passed away that afternoon. When I hung up the phone I sat in stunned silence and let the waves of emotion wash over me. Leela got up from the table and retrieved a questionnaire that Mom had returned to her a few weeks earlier, detailing her personal history. The questionnaire was part of Leela’s fifth-grade “Memoir Heritage Project”. In her attempt to comfort me, Leela gave me the completed pages, as if to say, “Here’s a little bit of Grandma we will always have.” In that moment, I saw my mother’s kindness shining through my daughter (maybe it skipped a generation).

Selma Miller was born in Montrose, Colorado on January 20th, 1919. She grew up on a ranch on the outskirts of Perris, California, about a mile from her closest neighbor, and attended a small, rural school with one teacher for all eight grades. She was a good student and went on to attend the University of California, Santa Barbara, earning a BA in Home Economics. She married my father in 1944 and had three sons. Mom was totally devoted to her family, content to fulfill her dharma through service to her husband and children. She and my father were married for almost 67 years! In India, they say that your mother is your first guru. I was fortunate to have a guru who embodied the qualities of love, kindness, thoughtfulness, patience, and unselfishness. I remember getting the mumps and measles simultaneously when I was in kindergarten and then passing both of them on to my two brothers, and the mumps to my father as well. My mother took care of us all tirelessly, without complaint, remaining strong and even-tempered throughout it all. Mom lived by the mottos, “If you don’t have something nice to say about someone, don’t say anything at all”, and “Be happy for what you have.” I thank God that she had a long and fulfilling life, and passed peacefully, with her mental faculties intact. If there is any justice in the afterlife, she is in a good place. Thanks for everything, Mom—you’re the best!

Comments

[Suziec3595]

Tim, my deepest sympathy. I lost my mother last year and my father just this last January. We are close to the same age and and fortunate, in a way, to still have living parents while in our early 60s. Since those parents are in their 90s, their loss is sad but inevitable. Your parents had beautiful, happy lives. Our parents will remain alive forever in our lifelong memories of them.

Now we are the oldest generation in our families and face our own mortality. I would like to hear your thoughts about that.

Susan Sullivan, Columbus, OH.

[Barry Fleming]

Dearest Tim - Dana and I send our deepest sympathies for your great loss. Our words are inadequate at this time, so we are sending you and your family our love. And thank you for sharing your Mother with us all...

Much Love,

Barry & Dana - NYC

[Misc]

thanks for sharing this....so hard to lose mom....much love to you....Cindy from boulder

[Dampudiaf]

Tim, our hearts go out to you and your family. Thank you for sharing with us.
Love from Criselda and Dario.