My mom died last November at the age of 95, almost 96. Not too shabby. She was an awesome mother, grandmother and great grandmother, as well as the love of my dad’s life. He passed a few years before her.
Right up until near the end of her life, she never spent a day in the hospital except to give birth to her four kids. She was as healthy as anyone I have ever known.
She lived through the COVID-19 pandemic like we all did. However, she was terrified of the virus, believing that she would die from it if she contracted it. She was so afraid that, if an individual didn’t get ALL of the CDC-recommended vaccines, she would not allow them near her. That was her choice and I am not suggesting she should have done anything differently, nor am I suggesting that her family should have gotten the vaccine; that was a personal decision and is not for me to dictate to ANYONE.
Her decision to isolate unfortunately meant that she didn’t see many of her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren for roughly the last three years of her life. So, not only did all of those people suffer the loss of connection to their grandma, she became more isolated and lonelier. Video calls worked some of the time but, as she became frailer, she was unable to participate in them.
Those who wanted to have a relationship with her and were not vaccinated struggled to reconcile their feelings. It was difficult for them at best, and quite painful at worst.
When she died, it was a blessing because she was miserable in her final months. I miss her. I think her grandkids also miss her, but they had become so estranged from her that her death didn’t have the impact it might have if they had seen her over the last three years.
Rest in peace, mom.