My mother passed away recently. She had Parkinson's disease; a very aggressive bought with it. She got pneumonia. This is usually what happens to Parkinson's patients in the end stages. I have not seen much of my Mom for the past four years being here in this part of the state of Wisconsin. I am originally from the complete other side, LaCrosse. When her condition began to deteriorate I visited more frequently. She was the same mom I always knew, but her body would not cooperate with her mind. Her words were for the most part unintelligible to most. Especially my Dad, who unfortunately, has a hearing problem. So imagine a man and woman living together, one who can not hear, and the other unable to speak clearly. The toll it took on my Father was unimaginable. Willie, being the short-tempered man that he is would often fly off the handle in frustration. His sometimes thoughtless and impatient comments hurt my Mom's feelings I am sure. This is not to caste my Dad in a bad light. I put myself in his shoes and can see why. I too have become frustrated with my Mother, who in a beautifully defiant way, wanted no help from anyone, even when on her death bed where she refused her medication and even food. Her strong will cracked when my dad fed her some jello. There is always room for jello.

I feel guilty for not visiting more often and also for the fact that I have not truly mourned her yet. I know one day it will hit me; hard.
Not sure if it is because I have been away so long or what. Maybe it is because I am numb from alcohol and don't care about much anyway.

In the end, I, along with my Dad, my three sisters and Mollie, my Mother Arnita's first grand child watched her pass. It was the most beautiful way to go. I wish to be surrounded by the ones I love in the end, just like my Mom.
There are so many things I would like to express about her life, but I will save this for gatherings with my sisters and Dad and relatives. Life is precious.