May be more info than you want

My mom passed away on Wednesday morning, quietly, in her own bed. She hadn't been well, but no one expected death to be imminent. But she was 92 years old after all.

I have been quite reluctant to share this because I know you kind and generous friends will feel sorry for me, and I don't think I deserve anyone's sympathy. I don't feel particularly sad. Mom hadn't enjoyed life for years. Her body was failing, and her mind was unraveling. And now she's in heaven with God, free of all pain, and being loved completely and perfectly for the first time ever.

Or, if you don't believe in heaven and God, then there is the reality that everyone dies sooner or later, and mom had a good, long run.

She didn't want a funeral. She's outlived most everyone she knew. She wanted to be creamated, and to have her ashes scattered out at the cabin. So, come summer, we'll get the family together and finally release her. And it will be good to get the family together, at the cabin.

But I think, part of accepting that she's gone is sharing that new with people who care about me.

Yep. When I have been trying to explain my feelings to myself, it has been like opening a door to a long-closed room. It's dark and dusty and cold and stale in there. Sharing this with you is like opening the curtains. Think I'll go get a hammer and pry out the nails that have sealed the windows shut. We could use some fresh air and sunlight in here.

Thanks for being there, and thanks for being the sort of people I can be honest with.