I was sitting in Starbuck's this afternoon nursing a soy latte while reading the current issue of The Week. And there it was -- an obituary for Andy Williams. He died two weeks ago at age 84 fighting bladder cancer. This was news to me as I'd been away at a spiritual retreat at the time and missed the reports of his passing.
I read the obit, and suddenly it's October 8, 2006. I am collaborating with my brother Gary and sister Jeanine on writing an obituary for our mother Faye, who died yesterday at age 90 and is to be buried tomorrow at Mount Sinai Memorial Park in Los Angeles.
Two days ago, the day before Mom died, Sis, cousin Maia, niece Deborah, my daughter Unmi, and I (I hope I remember correctly who was there!) were gathered around her bed in her San Jose apartment, holding hands. Her favorite music was playing -- an Andy Williams CD. And we were all singing along with Andy. Mom, too, as best she could, even if sometimes only mouthing the words.
Can't Get Used to Losing YouShortly before 9:30 the next evening, "yesterday", a battery of birds fluttered noisily away from the bushes outside Mom's window. At the very same moment, in Tucson, Arizona, two small poodle puppies belonging to Graciela, my ex-wife and friend of nearly 40 years, went crazy barking and running wildly about the house as never before.
Moon River
Hawaiian Wedding Song
More
Born Free
And so it goes.
This blog entry reminded me of a statement made by Milan Kundera, a Czech novelist who emigrated to France. He said that history is not a background in the drama of our lives, but a character.
ReplyDeleteI like to extend the thought to include society. Both history and society are players in the drama of our lives, and not just backgrounds.
Your blogs always stimulate my thinking. So thanks. Go well. Bernice
Mike - Thanks for giving me reason to stop and pause... I especially love that I can feel your mother's warmth pouring through the picture. Thank you for sharing. liz
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