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Monday, August 25, 2003
Lights on 
| | Travel day today. Leaving shortly to fly back to California. I'll try to answer or follow up on as many emails as I can along the way. There are hundreds of meaningful ones, including more condolances than I'm willing to count. |
| | The memorial service for Mom was, of course, beautiful. I'll miss her "turribly," as she used to say. And love her bunches, as I still hear her saying. |
| | What amazes me, in the retrospect I am now gaining on her life, is that she lived it completely — both in the energy she put into every moment of it, and in the fact that she had done everything she had wanted with her ninety years. |
| | So many lives end too soon with too much left undone; or linger far beyond the point when they cease being the complete person everybody remembers and wishes were either still here or mercifully gone. Mom's life was like a symphony in three long movements that roughly corresponded to her roles as a young woman, a mother, and a grandmother. Last week she performed the finale of her third movement, closing with a sweet sustained chord. |
| | How many of us will be blessed to live out a life like that? Or to be taught how to live by one of the good rare souls who does? |
| | I'm glad the way Mom passed gave me — even as painful as it was for her to struggle, almost successfully, to overcome the damage done to her body — a chance to introduce the world to one of the best examples of a good life, well lived. If she had died any faster or slower, all this sharing might never have happened, simply because I would not have found the time. She made it for me, and for the rest of us. |
| | At her memorial service I said Mom's simple prairie philosophy was the one Garrison Keillor summarizes at the close of his daily Writer's Almanac: Be well, do good work, and stay in touch. |
| | Nobody did any of them better. |
| | And now, as she so often said, it's time to get back to work. |
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