She had a bridge date, and I'm sure she had the shoes all picked out. They probably have four-inch heels. She hated being stuck in the sensible shoes and clothes her 2005 stroke forced upon her.
A night owl to the end, she died at 11:30 p.m., October 22. I had a funny feeling I'd lose her this week. Last year on October 22,
The last two things she tasted were the sausage rolls hundakleptisis and tree220 brought Sunday night, and the wine she sipped through a straw this afternoon. Her last coherent memory also dates from Sunday night. Two friends who used to work in the leasing office at Mom's apartment building dropped by to show her their Halloween costumes. M's was a sexy devil girl, E's was a pirate. Mom spent the whole evening after they left worrying whether E had a good earring for his. The funny part about this was E has better accessories than all the rest of us put together, but I couldn't quite convince her of that fact. Her last clear sight was a dozen, long-stemmed red roses sent from a dear friend in Pennsylvania.
Friends and relatives filled her last weeks with visits and calls. She knew she was loved. There's nothing easy or romantic about dying, but I'd like to think she takes that knowledge with her wherever she travels next.