Just one of the Jones Boys

Last night I went to one of the "geriatric" circuit's concerts (His statement; not mine.) I had not seen Davey Jones live in concert, but surely remembered the music. Wed night I saw "The Association."

This was my era; peace, love, "flower power" time. I sang; I swayed; enjoyed it. It brought back a lot of old memories - football games, dances I wasn't supposed to attend, and people that I grew up with; some no longer alive.

Afterward I was privileged to attend a friend's birthday party at a local establishment. I must be getting old. I am starting to remember "The Good Ole Days." I remind myself of my mother who used to talk about her life and how good it was "way back when."

It also made me think of Sunday, which is Mother's Day. My own Mother died in 2003, after a short illness. I had not been with my Dad, when he died; nor with my husband. But I asked God if I could be with my Mother, and He granted that request.

For the last several weeks before she died, my sister, Susan, who lives in Montana, and I took turns being with her. I would go before school time, around 5 am, stay for an hour or two and then go to school. Susan would visit between 10 and 3 and stay for a while. I would stop off before I went home after school, and stay for a while longer. This regime went on from August until her death in October.

Her nurse told me when she only had approximately 24 hrs left. (You can tell by the nails - hand and foot- they gradually turn purple.) I learned a lot about death during those 3 years. My father died in 2000; my husband in 2002 and my mother 2003.

I called her pastor and my pastor, and my sons. The pastors came, prayed and left. My sons, Susan and I stayed until around 7. Mother was tired and we were hungry. We later realized that none of us had eaten all day.

When I came back around 5 am the next morning, the nurse said she was just getting ready to call me as Mother was breathing with labored breaths. I went in, sat with her, sang softly the old hymns she loved so well (mostly Amazing Grace) and recited some of the Psalms until about 6:30 when she just stopped breathing. I was glad I was there.

I don't know how people get through death without God and friends. I couldn't have, but maybe I am a weaker person than most. It's okay. I like depending on God. And, for those who say God doesn't exist, I make only one statement - If I'm wrong, I've lost nothing; If you're wrong, you've lost everything. I like my odds better.