I learned today that my mother's 1st cousin died, just short of her 98th birthday. I had visited her a little over a year ago, at her home where she lived with assistance. Although frail and short on memory she was charming, and took a great interest in what was going on in our lives and the world outside the confines of her frailty.
I am very sad for her passing, even if she had reached the fullness of her years. For me, she represented my last connection to my mother, who died in 1969. We had not been in direct contact but somehow we picked up in conversation where we had left off 30 years before. I am sad that I did not ask her questions about what she knew about my mother's childhood. It seemed too intrusive. And more importantly, in that conversation a year ago, we were both very focussed on the moment.
Perhaps my feeling is best summed up by her answer to my question of how long she and her husband, who died a few years ago, had been married. She thought for a moment and then said, "I don't remember, but not long enough."
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