December 17th, 2002

nanowrimo 2010

I've just finished my mother's obituary.

     Oma Louderback of Bland, Missouri, recently of Washington, died Sunday evening, December 15, 2002, in the St. John's hospital in Washington. Oma was born on December 23, 1913, in Bland and passed within a week of her eighty-eighth birthday. She was the daughter of the late Alfred and Bessie Owens Jett. On June 18, 1931, Oma was married in Vienna to Robert R. Louderback and to this union of fifty years duration three children were born.
     Surviving Oma is her daughter Janet King of Richland and two sons John of Bland and Robert of Jefferson City. There is one grandson, Darrell. Also surviving are two sisters Oneta Muriel Piek of Jefferson City and Leona Pounds of Washington.
     Her husband and two brothers Raleigh Jett and Melvin "Buddy" Jett precede Oma in death.
     In accordance with Oma's wishes, she was cremated and there was no service.
Rest well harried spirit upon the nether shore whence you have gone and savor there the company of those before you flown.
     Oma Louderback was a woman defined differently by each that knew her. Her life was varied, good and bad, and filled with the troubles of the era. Through her life she worked, raised children and tended her marriage leaving her mark on all she met. The statue of the mind for each who knew her will be different for she seldom showed herself fully to anyone.
     Oma was the Wild Child, in her youth, the Wife, the Mother, the Grandmother, each in their turn. Many knew her at these different times and all will tell you a different set of stories.
     Oma had a number of friends she kept for a lifetime and stayed close to her family always. She shared much with others, her art, her reading, her love of music, her crafts, and her interest in genealogy, yet she seldom shared all of herself. She was a strong woman, resilient and capable who seldom showed her sentimental side, yet she was easily moved by a gesture, and loved to see romance in the world.
     Many people touched her deeply though they may not have known it. She treasured her friends and valued their visits and their conversation. The keepsakes she cherished, small mementos of those she loved, are astounding. She treasured her family, distant relations and immediate family, and loved them deeply.
     To her children she was an icon, a presence of strength, the hub upon which their lives turned. Through all, their love for her and hers for them never failed.
"Mother is the name of God on the lips and hearts of all children."
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    indescribable indescribable
Man of Bronze

Into the abyss

The ordeal of my mother's demise was extreme for me. I don't want to go into it, I never intend to talk about, write about, and, if possible, think about it again.

The minutiae of such an event are unpleasant in the extreme. I have dealt with them as I am able. There is no more for me to do but go on . I would be lying if I said my life was not simpler now.

This loss is but one of many recently. Old friends are dying, family members, others. Pieces of my own life are slipping away and I feel like I am being shredded.

I grieve tonight for my mother but find all wrapped up in that grief is the loss of my father, my vision problems, my recent surrender of my house, the irritating discoveries that seem to happen so often of things I can no longer do. I don't want to keep putting up with this but I don't know how to stop it.

Time seems not to be on my side. My ability to do the daily trivia of my life is leaving me. I discovered this evening that I can't push a push-pin into the wall of my apartment if the height is above my head. How incredibly petty. But it matters. It really matters. I feel myself sliding into the pit. How much more is there for me to lose? I noticed last week that my walk has become an old-man shuffle, wide set, toes out, knees bent, looking out for stubbed toes, unseen obstacles and waddling to maintain spatial relationship. How perfectly horrible.

I can't stop it.

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    Those Endearing Young Charms