{"id":115,"date":"2015-05-19T16:49:17","date_gmt":"2015-05-19T16:49:17","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/?p=115"},"modified":"2015-05-19T16:49:17","modified_gmt":"2015-05-19T16:49:17","slug":"a-short-good-bye","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/a-short-good-bye\/","title":{"rendered":"A short good-bye"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"13137_10151300548633803_1002071737_n\"<\/a>\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0My mother died December 20, 2014.<\/p>\n

The picture above is from her 90th birthday party. A hundred and twenty of her closest friends – including many folks from out of state – joined in the celebration. At one point we had open mike for people to share stories. \u00a0There was a repetition of themes: she loved life, she loved without borders, she served without acknowledgement, \u00a0and she accepted unconditionally without theological contortions.<\/p>\n

She woke up every morning attuned to Jesus’ command to love Godde and neighbor. And she did. Every day in a myriad of ways. \u00a0After the party was over (an indoor picnic- it was February after all – BBQ, \u00a0potato salad, slaw, deviled eggs,\u00a012 homemade cakes and gallons of homemade ice cream) I asked her what she thought about what people stood up to share.<\/p>\n

“I kept wondering who they were talking about.” she said.<\/p>\n

This is how I will remember her:\u00a0laughing, joyful, loving, quietly serving, humble, and deeply in love with Godde.<\/p>\n

She always told me she wanted to die in her sleep. (Don’t we all?) And she came about as close to that as possible. December 17th she went to a Christmas luncheon, ate dinner with me of homemade tomato-basil soup and fresh bread, played bridge until 10 that night and shortly after our guests left, suffered a major hemorrhagic stroke. At the emergency room I refused to have her intubated and the next day we moved her to hospice.<\/p>\n

For three days I served her. \u00a0She passed quietly with myself and my daughter in the room\u00a0and a crowd of loved ones keeping vigil outside.\u00a0I opened \u00a0the window\u00a0so she could feel the fresh air on her skin. And I sang her over. I sang her favorite song,\u00a0In the Garden<\/em> and the song, unbidden, that came out of me as I stroked her hair,\u00a0Jesus, We are Here.\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n

When her spirit rose from her body I washed the vessel that had gestated me, held me, accepted me, honored me and loved me. \u00a0I have thanks for each part of her as I\u00a0blessed her\u00a0hands, feet, womb, and heart. I brushed her hair, dressed her in red with matching red lipstick and a spritz of perfume as I\u00a0loved her from life into death into life.<\/p>\n

This short good-bye is what she would have wanted. For me, the good-bye will last until I greet her\u00a0at the hour of my own death.<\/p>\n

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\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0My mother died December 20, 2014. The picture above is from her 90th birthday party. A hundred and twenty of her closest friends – including many folks from out … Continue reading A short good-bye<\/span> →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[13,17,1],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=115"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":118,"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115\/revisions\/118"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=115"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=115"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/connietuttle.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=115"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}