This was the sunrise on the day after my mother died. She died on the 23rd April 2018, two days before her birthday and the day before the anniversary of my father’s death.
All who knew her were struck by the courage she showed in her last two years, after her diagnosis with advanced cancer, and by the fact that she never complained, not even during the two six-month courses of chemotherapy that she underwent.
She lived alone and independently in a detached unit at a retirement centre until the last three weeks of her life, when my husband and I went to stay with her to take care of her. We were so privileged to be able to do this. A friend kindly looked after our home and animals while we were away.
Even during the last weeks of her life, unable to eat without vomiting because of pressure from the build-up of abdominal fluid, and frustrated as her energy was sapped, she remained defiant. On Palm Sunday, only four weeks before her death, she participated in a recital given by the choir she had retired from leading in October last year, and gave three short readings in a voice as strong and clear as ever. Her determination was incredible. She showed more concern for others than for herself, for example, expressing more anxiety about my husband’s recent shoulder surgery than her own illness.
At the memorial celebrating her life, many paid tribute to her vibrant personality, feisty yes, but full of fun. After retiring, when my parents moved to the south coast, my mother started a choir at a retirement centre, devising entertaining shows over a period of 25 years that were popular with a wide audience, and she encouraged members to have fun, be professional, and realise their full potential.
She was reluctant to let go of life. She was the first to say, even in the face of her illness, that compared to many she was very fortunate and she had been lucky to lead such an interesting life. She had trained at drama school in England in her youth, and after moving to South Africa, taught speech and drama for many years as well as performing in or directing many amateur theatre productions until her retirement. She also worked for the SPCA, where she had begun by working in the kennels for strays and also as inspector, and then became chairperson of the management committee. Thereafter she worked as a volunteer fundraiser for a non-profit organisation for people with physical disabilities, later chairing its management committee. In addition to the theatre, she loved animals and nature, and she and my late father, an entomologist, were never happier than when off camping in the bush.
Another sunrise, photographed by my father back in the winter of 1974, when he and my mother went on an adventurous camping trip with a group of friends through parts of Botswana. In this photo taken at Shakawe on the banks of the Okavango River, my mother is waiting for the sun to rise enough to thaw the gas that has frozen in the gas cylinder so they can boil the kettle to make tea.
In the end my mother had to let go of life. My sister, my husband and I were with her when she looked directly at us and waved her hand in farewell as she mouthed ‘bye’ just before her consciousness started receding. It was hard to watch her go. We miss her now.
But she has been released from the cancer that she endured so resolutely. She had a long and rewarding life. She valued the kindness of friends and of strangers in her last years, including the care and compassion from the people at the local hospice who supported us all immeasurably.
Below is the text of a handwritten note that we found in my mother’s notebook that she kept next to her chair. It truly is something she lived by.
You are not responsible for everything that happens to you, but you are in charge of how you react to what life brings.
In ill health you can become a constant complainer, or you can endure with courage, and concentrate on what strength you still have and not on what you have lost.
I was not able to participate in the blogosphere in the last weeks of my mother’s life and in the fortnight following her death. I hope to resume posting regularly and reconnecting with other bloggers in the coming days.
Posted by Carol
April 26, 2019 at 9:42 pm
Lovely. I’m sorry for your loss. A beautiful sunrise and sunset seem to me to be nature’s way of honoring the life that was lived, the soul’s release, the journey on, and the return to the Light of All That Is. Your mother sounds like a giving, wise, and grateful person.
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May 2, 2019 at 7:17 pm
Thank you Cheryl. I appreciate your words especially at a time of great loss for you too.
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May 2, 2019 at 8:01 pm
Empathy. The world needs more.
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May 2, 2019 at 8:06 pm
Yes it does and so do we all. Thanks.
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May 17, 2018 at 9:22 pm
To add … the images are simply stunning!
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May 20, 2018 at 7:55 pm
Thank you – that sunrise was especially striking.
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May 17, 2018 at 9:20 pm
I am so sorry for your loss, Carol. The words your mother left in her notebook are so wise and touching. It will be 10 years next month since I lost my Mom to cancer. She battled against it for 12 years and hardly complained at all right up until the day I sat with her when she passed. My thoughts are with you, and thank you for writing such a moving and inspirational blog.
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May 20, 2018 at 7:54 pm
Thank you Pete. I think that the heroism of many people who suffer from cancer is often unacknowledged. I am sorry that your mother also endured this disease that can be so brutal and her courage is both touching and admirable, and I am sorry for your loss.
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May 20, 2018 at 9:19 pm
Thank you.
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May 17, 2018 at 8:03 pm
Thank you Osyth.
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May 14, 2018 at 3:43 pm
I am so saddened to read this. In time, as you know from previously losing your father, you will feel your mum’s presence safely nestled in your heart, but for now the pain maybe too intense. I send you my heartfelt condolences, my warmest thoughts as you walk through this very personal storm and my hope that the journey through grief is kind to you.
As an aside, I have been absent for several weeks whilst I effected a rather major move. Now that I am settled I am to be able to dip back into the blog-pool and over time I will catch up with all I have missed.
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May 17, 2018 at 11:41 am
Thanks, Osyth, for your kind words and consideration. Emotionally, it is a roller coaster of a journey, unpredictable and exhausting. Of great comfort is the kindness of others, and the knowledge that my mother’s friends hold the memory of her so dearly. Although I am sorry for their loss too!
I hope that you are settling in and settling down after your major move. Take care and enjoy getting back into a more comfortable zone.
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May 17, 2018 at 1:10 pm
There are no rules for grieving and there is no choice but to go through it … I wish you more light than darkness, more moments when you smile at a memory than crushing sadness at your loss and the support and love of those that care for you and that cared for your mother. Go softly, dear lady.
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May 13, 2018 at 6:28 am
What a wonderful tribute to your mother. It must have been hard to let her go. Thinking of you, but also looking forward to your return to blogging.
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May 13, 2018 at 11:21 am
Thank you Margaret. Yes it has been hard. And of course we also had to pack up the home she loved and that has been hard too, but it had to be done.
I look forward to reconnecting with fellow bloggers.
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May 12, 2018 at 1:32 pm
A beautiful tribute to your lovely mother. Take care.
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May 13, 2018 at 11:21 am
Thank you very much Rupali.
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May 12, 2018 at 2:26 am
Sad to hear of your loss. I can’t help but wonder if a death near some special day adds to that loss. My mother died on her 96th birthday, which happened to be Christmas eve. I think the first few years were particularly tough to get through that holiday, but as time has passed it seems as though the warmer memories have mellowed things out. I especially liked the note she left behind. It’s truly inspirational.
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May 13, 2018 at 11:17 am
Thank you Gunta. Losing your mother at Christmas time would have profoundly altered what is usually a time of celebration. I suppose as the years go by we learn to make accommodations to help us better able to cope with loss. With best wishes, Carol
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May 11, 2018 at 5:40 pm
So sorry to hear of your loss Carol. This Mother’s Day will indeed be a sad one for you.
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May 13, 2018 at 11:10 am
Thanks so much Hester. Yes, I have been averting my gaze from the constant barrage of pre-Mother’s Day advertising.
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May 11, 2018 at 4:29 pm
Wow, stunning, Carol!
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May 13, 2018 at 11:08 am
Thank you Pete.
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May 11, 2018 at 9:20 am
I understand what others are saying about the appropriateness of the ‘like’ button at these moments. And yet I found myself hitting ‘like’ without hesitation, despite the tears in my eyes. Your mother was clearly a wonderful person from whom, even in her death, others such as myself can learn. And your tribute is quietly beautiful; heartfelt and heart-rending. Sending you warm thoughts, Carol, at this sad and challenging time. Come back to blogging when you feel ready and treat yourself gently. x
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May 13, 2018 at 11:08 am
Thank you Sandra for your kind consideration and thoughtfulness. Although such a journey is sad and difficult, we have a lot to be grateful for.
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May 11, 2018 at 7:56 am
A powerful, thought-provoking, beautiful tribute that brought tears to my eyes. Thank you for sharing these precious moments. ❤
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May 13, 2018 at 11:04 am
Thank you. The letting go can be hard, but we were are so grateful we could be with her as much as we were.
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May 11, 2018 at 5:39 am
Beautiful Carol. Your mum would have enjoyed reading this and remembering past adventures with frozen gas,funny little dogs and wavering voices. Love that you have used sunrise images rather than the more obvious sunset ones. Much love to you and your menagerie. xxx
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May 13, 2018 at 10:48 am
Thanks so much Nikki. Yes my mum had one funny little and adorable dog from the SPCA, but she mostly had cats, all rescue animals. She lived her last two years without a cat, and missed her last cat companion terribly.
Hope that you and DIzzy are well mended and recovered. Love from Carol
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May 11, 2018 at 5:36 am
Dear Carol, I can feel with you, because I lost my mother one day after my 15th birthday. She had also cancer and was also a very strength and lovely person. I miss her every day although her dead is a long time ago. So I hope you find a little bit consolation in reading and writing posts and being in nature. I wish you all the best! Simone
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May 13, 2018 at 10:37 am
Thank you Simone, and I am deeply sorry that your mother’s life was cut so short. I hope that you too find a measure of consolation and healing in nature. With best wishes, Carol
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May 13, 2018 at 3:32 pm
Yes, I have found this way. The nature is a powerful source. So I hope for you too! All the best!
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May 13, 2018 at 6:40 pm
Thank you Simone.
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May 10, 2018 at 10:38 pm
So sorry to hear about your loss. You have written a lovely and fitting tribute. It will be good to have you posting again.
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May 13, 2018 at 10:33 am
Thank you Graham.
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May 10, 2018 at 9:53 pm
Carol, so sorry to learn of the loss of your mother. She sounds like she was a remarkable, strong woman and a great role model. Losing your mom is a tough thing to face, it leaves a hole that no one else can fill. We have to live on and make do with happy memories. Wishing you peace.
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May 11, 2018 at 7:21 pm
Thank you so much for your kind thoughtfulness Eliza.
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May 10, 2018 at 9:05 pm
This is a beautiful tribute to your mother, Carol. She lived life with gusto
and let go of it on her own terms.
I look forward to your return to posting.
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May 11, 2018 at 7:20 pm
Thanks very much Sandy, So true what you say about my mum.
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May 11, 2018 at 8:32 pm
You are most welcome.
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May 10, 2018 at 8:36 pm
While I don’t know you well Carol I certainly noticed your absence and missed your posts. My condolences, and I enjoyed reading your beautiful tribute to your amazing mother.
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May 11, 2018 at 7:18 pm
Thank you Liz for your kind words and thoughts.
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May 10, 2018 at 8:19 pm
I’m a new follower, having only seen one previous post and also don’t wish to tap ‘like’, but I send you warm thoughts.
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May 11, 2018 at 7:15 pm
Thank you very much Jane.
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May 10, 2018 at 8:19 pm
Beautiful eulogy to your she certainly was exceptional. Sad to hear of you loss
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May 11, 2018 at 7:11 pm
Thank you Abrie. I appreciate your kindness.
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May 10, 2018 at 8:15 pm
‘Like’ is not the right response. I feel deeply for you, having sadly trodden that path before. She will always be there – think of her often and try to remember the happier times. Take care.
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May 11, 2018 at 7:09 pm
Thank you Anne for your kind words. Sorry that you have trodden the same path, as so many of us have.
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