Easter / Passover 2017
Good (bye) Friday: A good time for farewells of different sorts, for releasing.
And a going-away present (because some things are)—for all of you here!
To say farewell is more hopeful, more forward looking, than to say goodbye. But they are the same thing, and I’m not sure there really is a good time for it—for saying goodbye—just a necessary one.
In my mothers' Catholicism, today honors Jesus’s physical death, so seems a good day to say some farewells not yet said in public. So here goes.
My mother, Mary Alice Wareham Cline, died this year, in October (b.1927.) She had severe Alzheimer’s (is there another kind?), and had been in my charge since 2006.
I recently came across this “Poem” I transcribed from my mom last year—on Easter—I had taken down in writing her Alzheimer’s-mind–chatter, when she was still talking freely, actually non-stop! I was happy to come across it so I could share it with you: it hadn’t surfaced for her memorial gathering in December.
I offer it as a farewell to my mom, honoring her creativity and charm, and as a teaching in Alzheimer’s.. which is a teaching in humanity, the way a human incarnated on this planet is built in a psyche, and likewise is broken down.
Easter, 2016 was during the stretch when Mom was chatting (and singing!) most of the time, even when she was alone. But when I was there it became a wonderful performance, as she employed all the charms of her beauty and personality and humor in expressing herself in story-telling, facial expression, gesture, language, and sounds. When this stage had passed and she withdrew, no longer chatting—I so wished I had spent much more time with her when she was loquacious!
Her death was a peaceful one, in her own sweet southeast corner room down the street at Dimitri’s little facility, with her regular caregivers. My two sisters Barb and Ibby made it out and were with her, and I’m grateful she wasn’t suffering (as she had been for a bad stretch) and that she took off safely on her journey.
I originally called this MomPoetry because I thought she did, using the word “poen.” Imagine it slow, expressive, by the Great Lady our mother was!:
A Poen, transcribed from my mother, Easter 2016
I thought it was your eyes
And it was
[in answer to, “are you hungry”?:]
I said I’ve got a couple of them
& what’s her name now
it... it... it...
I’ve seen you probably on the wall
And that’s all right now
And we have ww uuuuwwww
But she had
And she... spay...
And spec and spec
& our eye
so she wrote the banees
been really porgues
and I thought to myself
I don’t think I would think
A dog or a baby and I
Ee touching this poen
It would be nice
I’ll... I’ll... I’ll...
I do and I do
All the poeps
He’s mipping, but he wasn’t back
Easy to get my gal through the trees
I ate – you ate
We had all we had
Yeah... I know that
Did you hear that?
I want to get it, but
Oooh, I can’t help it
Well I don’t like that
Doing ay very
Once.. once... I amernnn I...
I wanta go and see you
And now I’m a mission.
You were a mission, Mom, a missive, and off you went. I love you!
Besides saying goodbye to my mom, I wanted to give you all a gift, and that’s also as another goodbye, not comparably huge of course but still surprisingly hard, in this recent bumpy fall season of losses:
A fond farewell to Three of Diamonds, the pop vocal group I sang in for three & a half years, from spring 2013 until this fall when Eric (Gruchalski, stage name Vincent) moved back to Milwaukee—to take care of his mom! And the third member Tony Perez, is pursuing his own directions down La Mirada way. . .
I miss you both, and especially the music—working on the songs, rehearsing, performing far and wide. It was a swell run guys— Thanks! and Good Luck!
In their honor, here’s a little memorial offering (very different from what I usually do!) & my first release for my releasing fest this spring—put sound up/in your earbuds:
I’d love to hear from any of you (let me know if you enjoy the tune?)—email would be great, & through this site works too.