This is a tough post to write. Right after Thanksgiving my mom had a positive test for covid. She wasn't showing any symptoms, and we thought that she was asymptomatic. But no, it turned out that her body just wasn't fighting the virus. We got a call a week ago on Thursday that she wasn't doing well, and they didn't think she would make it, and she died on Tuesday in the middle of the night.
It's a very surreal feeling because we only had about 3 minutes to talk to her via zoom, so it's hard to believe that she's even gone. I was glad that we zoomed, even though she wasn't really up for it (we worked it out with everyone's schedule but hers, I think the nurses must have woken her up) because we could see that #1 the nurses who were caring for her were really kind and #2 she was really sick, no question. Because she prepaid for her funeral and had everything set up, my sister was able to have her body moved to Schenectady the next morning, before a big snowstorm moved in (she hated driving in the snow). We had a zoom funeral on Friday and will have a zoom burial on Sunday. She would have been happy with the turnout, there were 75 zoom windows, some with more than one person.
It's really hard to know what to do even right now. I've been spending a lot of time on my couch watching tv and doing a puzzle. There have been a lot of zoom calls with my family. I've chatted with friends. I've done a lot of yoga and taken a lot of walks. I've done a little cooking and eaten a lot of comfort food. Today I went to parkour because it was beautiful out and I wanted to do something normal. We tried activities where we played on things in the new snow. My favorite was balancing and walking on some logs. After class, a snowball fight broke out, and of course I had to join in.
At the funeral we read one of her poems that made me feel a lot more at peace:
Gone
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