Today is the first anniversary of my mother's passing. A few months after she died, there was a memorial service - for her and others - at the nursing home where she had spent the last four years of her life.
Staff made us smile with personal memories of each one. I recognized my mother in the stories shared. They knew her well those last few years!
I recognized some of the photos and families of others who were being remembered. Our paths had crossed at barbecues, birthday parties, campfires - or simply in the hall or lounge.
One neighbor who had lived across the street from us for over 30 years died around the same time as my mother. She was remembered at this service as well. Her time in the nursing home had been brief - but years before when she lived across the street from us, in good health, she had volunteered at nursing home "bingo" nights. Her daughter still volunteers here at the home.
My mother used to love these memorial services. When she was mobile in her wheelchair, she always came. It was an event she never wanted to miss... Other residents obviously feel the same.
I am so thankful that my mother spent her last years among such kind, caring folk, among caregivers who also knew her well enough to grieve her passing and to share stories of how much she loved music - and how she never wanted to miss any event!
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