A Line of Amazons

My mom and my aunt had a long standing joke that they were Amazon women. Years ago, they had gone to a yard sale where outdoor umbrella bases were for sale. When my mom and aunt declined help in carrying them to the car and hauled them off themselves, the seller exclaimed that they were Amazons. And both women proved, time after time, that they were amazingly strong.

My mom displayed that remarkable strength over 92 years and through various medical issues. Several times my family had doctors tell us to be prepared, that women her age don’t usually survive whatever medical issue she was presenting. But mom kept on going. 

Last week, it became clear that the Amazonian strength of her heart couldn’t go much longer. I flew back to Sonoma County just after she’d been released from the hospital under hospice care. After several peaceful days at home with my dad, my sister and me at her bedside, her heart just couldn’t go any longer. She passed away on August 17.

It was as good as it could have been. She had the people she loved around her, and she knew we were with her. She was calm and in no pain. I’m convinced that she was greeted on the other side by my brother, her lifelong friend Cathy, Misha the devoted Kuvasz who was surely waiting with a tennis ball in her mouth, and so many other friends and family members. 

I’m back in the Pacific Northwest now. The dogs greeted me with wagging tails and comforting nuzzling, and my daughter  gave me a tight hug. It feels good to come home.  My heart is sore, of course. But  I come from a line of Amazons. I'll think of my mom often, and keep on going.