I wrote the following last summer after I heard that my mother was terminally ill.
August 23, 1988
My mother is dying. Still at home, active; but dying – 3-5 months. Not a cheery thought.
But it raises important issues. The loss of a mother.
She’s 86, lived a good life; but she will be gone for me.
As you know, when she does die, she is the last generation above me. I become elder to my children and their children to be.
A sobering thought.
But another issue, not so obvious, weighs heavily. She is the last person on the 10-acre homestead, the place where I was born.
With the oaks and the hickories, that towered over me 40 years ago as a child, still protecting and caressing this homestead.
There’s the garden and barnyard that produced most all the food I ate.
She’s my second mother, that I continue to love and respect.
Ten children, and none there. Sell it.
It’s ideal development land, only a mile from the expressway. Knock out the old oaks and hickories.
Pave the garden.
The barnyard is ideal for condos or a factory.
Besides, the alternative may be a lot of time working it out, if it would work at all.
A very small part of the Ohio River Basin.
But this is a source of my life, my bioregional place.
To question the wisdom of profit.
To preserve a part of this bioregion in the place of my birth and growth.
This story has not yet ended; but the question, can I handle the loss of both of my mothers?
My mother died on April 28. It was not as painful an experience as I anticipated.
The reasons:
It was hardest in August when I first heard the news, and in December when mom was so ill we did not see her living through the month. She gave us time to get in touch with the loss that was coming. We had time to be there, to say goodbye, to relate so I can feel there was nothing left undone. And the time spent with my brothers and sisters was deep and wonderful as we cared for our mother.
My brothers and sisters have agreed to put the land into a wildlife preserve in my parents’ names. And so, I only need to suffer the loss of one of my mothers, the other can now return to its real grandeur as woods, a place for other species to live and breed, and be as they have a right to be; a little oasis in the midst of a human-barren land. Thanks to my wonderful, wonderful family.
You, who have been so supportive and loving and caring over the last months. Tears have come most often since my mother’s death when I have felt and remembered the kindnesses of the people around me. Through my tears I say thank you for your love.
rjamesschenk.org 