Friday, December 17, 2010

Heavy Hearts

Mary died peacefully this morning at 10 o'clock. She fought determinedly to the end, even after we'd told her it was all right to go. The doc told us Tuesday morning he thought 24 hours. Hah! From the same people who gave her a year in February 09. She showed them, and showed us all how to fight. Stubborn woman.

Since we took her into Munson in the Sunday night blizzard, she had mostly been asleep. Her sisters stayed with her almost constantly. Tuesday morning when I got in the doctor and nurses said she had been unresponsive, so I went in and told her I loved her. She said, "I love you too."

We have yet to work out funeral details. It will be at St. Philip Neri in Empire, of course, her home away from home. Though sometimes I thought it was the other way around.

Marc finished his exams this week. Yeah, great timing. But it gave him something else to do and think about. And of course he did spectacularly well. When I dropped off his last project today, a DVD he compiled from Absolutely Fabulous and accompanying booklet for his psychology class, his professor went out of his way to tell me how much he enjoyed Marc, how bright and insightful he was and how much he added to the class. Well, yeah. But it was great to hear. He has been incredible throughout this whole ordeal. He has been my rock, and here I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. He is truly the most amazing person I have ever known and I am so glad and so proud to be his Dad. Mary of course felt the same way, and I see so much of her in him. Plus my eyelashes and sarcasm.

Thank you to all of you for your innumerable kindnesses, thoughts, prayers and actions over the past two years. I know Mary would never have made it to this point without all of you. Our lives have been enriched for having known you.

Love,

Ross and Marc

1 comment:

Monte Montgomery said...

RB

You know my position on the afterlife, Ross -- but immortality's another issue. Even though I never met Mary, I'm 100% sure that she lives on in the way she enriched your life and everyone she knew, and at a second, distant echo, the lives of everyone who knows you -- even us bums from Wilson Hall and Durand Street. The Vibraslap is ringing out.