July 5, 2024, Boston- The cobblestone walk, in the photo on my wall, in this spacious, yet relatively simple room, near Fanueil Hall, pretty much spells it out. There are light curves and a mild turn to the left, before the photo print heads into eternity. The photograph encapsulates my trip from Woburn, this afternoon.
It could have been so much worse, had the random driveway and lane closures of last week still been in effect, around the Car Rental Center at Logan Airport. As it was, we go to the airport area in less than 20 minutes, I topped off the tank and returned the vehicle, leaving plenty of time to catch the shuttle to the terminal, where Aram caught his flight, and my getting cash for incidentals and various tips. It was a quarter mile alley oop to the taxi stand, then the sharp, efficient driver got me to the Bostonian Hotel, in ten minutes.
The Bostonian Hotel, near Fanueil Hall.The Parlor, lobby of Bostonian Hotel.
These were very short limbos, and it was gratifying that I did far less overthinking and ruminating about them than in times past. Both self-confidence and trust in the Divine are far greater than they have been. Mother got a fabulous send-off, family and friends who I hadn’t seen in years came to pay their respects to her and re-connect with one another, and with me. Aram came to have my back, and in the process completed much of his remaining academic work. Yunhee, waiting at home, got a lobster stuffed figure. I have a sense that one more powerful spirit guide is going to help me over various challenges, in this still roiling year, and through the rest of the decade. As a bonus, she guided me to a nice place for a lobster salad roll and cup of clam chowder, to close out my time in Massachusetts.
Fanueil Hall, Boston
Shortly, I will get my rest, then rise early tomorrow and make the flight back to Arizona, via Denver. It has been a semi-expected, and reassuring, ten days.
July 4, 2024, Woburn, MA- With ringing tones, a volunteer in 18th Century garb, replete with a tricorner hat, read the Declaration of Independence, in its entirety. There was then a procession of five uniformed Colonial Volunteers to North Bridge, where they re-enacted a volley of three rounds of musket shots, representing the “Shot heard around the world”.
Aram and I chose to focus on the North Bridge sector and Monument Square, Concord, integral parts of Minuteman National Historical Park, which commemorates the beginning of our nation’s long, and unfinished, struggle for the freedom of all. The commander of Massachusetts Militia forces, Colonel James Barrett, had warned his men not to fire upon the British regulars, a directive that changed, when the regulars marched to North Bridge, leading the Militia forces to fire upon them and causing the British to retreat.
We walked around the North Bridge area, then back to Monument Square and along Main Street, and at long last, I visited an area that had been drive-through country, with family and friends always drawing me to a small section of the North Shore. This will not be my sole visit to the Minuteman region. Massachusetts will always be one of my homes.
Here are some scenes of downtown Concord, and around North Bridge
Concord Town House
Ship’s bell from USS Concord
Concord River, at North Bridge
Minuteman Statue, North Bridge
North Bridge, from the Visitor Center
The Old Manse (Emerson family home). Here, William Emerson, grandfather of Ralph Waldo Emerson, witnessed the skirmish at North Bridge.
Main Street, Concord. We ended our visit with cool beverages at Nero Coffee House. It’s been a fine unwind, from a very long week.
July 3, 2024, Woburn, MA- So now, we are orphans. The powerful and beautiful matriarch has gone home to her Lord.
Yesterday, the young man was full of himself. Today, he was crestfallen and needed us all to help him deal with the loss of his beloved grandmother. So it was done. That is the nature of any set of random unpleasantries that take place between people who love one another, in their inmost hearts.
Mom lay in repose, and each of us had our time to say our last farewells. Mine was focused on just how powerfully she drew forth the best aspects of my character, and made of them the engine that has kept me going. We four siblings and, by extension, our children and grandchildren are each that much the better for her long and exemplary life. In the end, she looked as elegant and beautiful as she had at any time in her nearly ninety-six years.
Well over a hundred people filled the event room, at the funeral home-and about 3/4 of them continued on to the interment at cemetery, as well to as the funereal meal. The four of us mingled as best we could, with it being a rare opportunity to catch up with relatives and former neighbours we had not seen in decades. In that sense, Mom wove her last magic. Such occasions are in that sense magical, and reassuring.
Mom’s centering principle was that each of us do the very best we can, in any endeavour-big or small. Making the bed was as important as giving a speech. Washing the dishes properly deserved the same attention as delivering up a quality piece of homework. Her send-off reflected that: My sister’s attention to detail made everything click, as Mom would have wanted. My youngest niece created an exquisite audiovisual collage of Mom’s life, which circulated around the lounge at Polcari’s Restaurant, as we enjoyed light desserts after the ample buffet.
I offer two songs, in gratitude, “Until we meet again”.
July 2, 2024, Woburn, MA- A family member who is not known for tact tried to put me on the sidelines, in the middle of a conversation. I didn’t back away, which rankled him just a bit, but he didn’t push the issue. We’ve had our differences, now and then, but given that he is half my age, I try not to take things too much to heart.
In the past, particularly in my New England years, there was always a small inner circle, in any group with which I was involved. I was never part of that circle, even if there were only three of us. The other two just had a very strong bond, that either pre-dated my time with them, or was established while we interacted.
Only recently have I even had the level of self-confidence to call out those who sought to keep things tightly controlled or at least keep me on the outside of things. My siblings, thankfully, don’t subscribe to such exclusivity. Most of those with whom I interact now are no more exclusionary towards me than they are towards anyone else. Still and all, I am very wary of anyone who draws a circle around self, and makes sure that “the other”, even one to whom s(he) is related, doesn’t step inside.
I used to ascribe exclusionary behaviour to “American culture”, or “elitism”. Anymore, I associate it with insecurity or misplaced anger. No one can be totally accepting of all those around them, in the course of this life, but it stands to reason that moving away from small enclosed circles is mark of spiritual growth.
July 1, 2024, Woburn, MA- Mom was meticulous, in her prime. While some of that fastidiousness faded, as she entered her tenth decade, we, her adult children kept the faith and would serve her needs, as much as she would let anyone serve. So it was, today.
The day had periods of rain and wind, which complicated the process-just a bit. There was also the energy of serendipity: Several things happening in a small space, at the same time. I got a little bit irritated, not at family members, but at random people with competing agendas. I got past that irritation, and somehow, we got furniture, keepsakes, clothing-to-be-donated and several bags of trash out of the room and to their respective destinations, in a matter of three or four hours.
Among the keepsakes are a rolled up photograph of your truly, protected in a scroll. This will be my “personal item” on the flight back to Phoenix. There is also a photo of my maternal grandfather, who I never met in the flesh, but who some say I resemble. That will take its place on the mantle in my living room. There are other photos and journals that enhance our family story.
This is the back side of bringing a long-lived and much-loved family member’s earthly story to a close. Mom chose her own final arrangements, with the strongest expectation that we would all stick together. It is my expectation, as well.
The room is now empty, but our hearts never will be.
June 30, 2024, Bedford, MA- Penny passed on a Saturday morning. She was laid to rest, the following Wednesday. Mother passed on Sunday evening, and will be laid to rest, this coming Wednesday. Thus have the most important women in my life, up to now, cemented their eternal tie.
Mom told me, in a silent message, that today would be her last day with us. It came right after a noisy little bird sat squawking, right outside my motel room door. I spent much of today sitting at her side, holding her hand and keeping watch on on her right side, while my sister-in-law did the same on her left. We kibbitized about one thing or another, as Mom kept on with her silent ascent into the Realm of Glory. Her breaths were increasingly softer and shorter. Her throat began gurgling, which I learned is a telltale sign of approaching transition. After seven hours of this, she took her final breaths, one heavy and one light. It was 6:48 p.m., and the pronouncement of death took place at 7:47-a fitting symbolism, if you will.
We, the group of four, will now have the leadership role for our ten children and nineteen grandchildren. We will proceed with the eternal tie that Mom and Dad established for us.
June 29, 2024, Bedford, MA- Mom had a rallying day, today. She breathed better and expressed herself-not verbally, but very clearly, about a certain matter. We were able to put her concerns into words, because that’s one of the things for which we are there.
I get the sense, from Jetpack, that people are “bored” with this whole account of my family’s travails. Too bad-because it will continue, until its ending. If taking care of loved ones is not your area of interest, feel free to not bother “viewing”. That said, I do very much appreciate all those on shared sites, especially on Facebook and LinkedIn, who have been supportive-along with my two most faithful WP readers, who comment, as well as “like” the posts.
I will continue being here for Mom, taking some time the second week of July, for commitments in Arizona that cannot be re-scheduled (There will be family members here for her, during that time)-but I will return here after those, if she keeps up her fight. She spent a lifetime doing this for all five of her children. Now it’s time for us to stand by her, until transition is complete.
I can’t express enough appreciation for her lifetime of love and service, in any other way.
June 28, 2024, Bedford,MA- The little boy was only four, but still got in front of someone he thought was bothering his mother, and stood with fists clenched-size differential between him and the perceived threat be darned. His mom moved him out of harm’s way and took care of matters, herself.
Today, I was that little boy, all over again, holding Mom, ready to defend her-against any suffering she might still be feeling. Now, there is little, or none. She still draws breath, and is semi-warm to the touch. Her heart, lungs and brain are still doing their basic work. This didn’t stop me from wanting to protect her-though from God knows what.
I felt the uncertainty, driving back from Lynnfield, this evening. Family members sensed this and engaged in text message levity, which helped soothe any of my own feelings of dread. I also told myself that, whilst on the road, my ancillary mission is to be part of a safe network of motorists. Other drivers are my family, between any two points. The mother and baby sitting on the curb, at Bedford Motel’s driveway, are family. The joggers running on the side of the road, going both for and against traffic, are family. So, too, are the construction workers, the semi-truck driver trying to pass everyone on the inside and the half-crazed person with the crazy hair, tail-gating me on a number of side streets. Most of the rest of the motoring public are like distant, but still significant, cousins.
Mostly, though, I will be told that my main job is to protect myself. So I will-that I may complete this present mission, to finish honouring my mother; that I may manage the four-day camp, after my return to Arizona; that I may fulfill a pledge to visit several Baha’is from Carson City to Vancouver Island and mainland British Columbia-with several people in Oregon, Washington and Idaho, in between; that I may also make good on my promise to return to the Philippines, this Fall.
That little boy will always love and defend his mother, by living up to what she taught.
June 27, 2024, Bedford, MA- Looking at Mom’s stalwart face told me there was only one thing to be done-so I called the airline, the car rental and a hotel closer to Lynnfield, and made the necessary changes. I will be in the Boston area until the early morning of July 6. That could change, and I may have to adjust with it, but for now this is the plan.
The day began with a switch of rooms here at Bedford Motel, necessitated by the booking agency’s lack of an editing option for reservations, the other night. Software can be as much of a hindrance as it is a help. Simply put, I entered today as my arrival date, and thus needed to backtrack, in order to get a room for last night. That meant a separate reservation, as Booking.com has not provision for editing a confirmed reservation-except canceling and starting over. So, here we are, and no harm done.
Things proceeded smoothly, after that. Traffic was “uphill both ways”, but that is Boston, on the cusp of a major holiday. The slowdown wasn’t too bad. I joined my siblings, got brother over to tend to a personal errand and rejoined everyone at the room, about an hour later. Mom is holding on, resting and I am sure she is getting some strength for her journey, from the love that is being showered on her.
My messages and reflections, for the next week or so, are bound to be short and (bitter)sweet. Hang in there, outside world.
June 26, 2024, Bedford, MA- The young lady looked both embarrassed and crestfallen, upon learning that her oversized luggage would not fit in an overhead bin. Apparently, it had fit on previous flights, but on this full flight, it was a no-go. She asked if the middle seat was taken, and hearing a “No”, dropped her carry-on item on the seat, brought the offending bag to the jet way, for check-in, and came back to take her seat. No further words were exchanged with anyone, until the end of the flight, when she joined another young woman (maybe a sister) and an older man (maybe her father). I heard her tell the man that “that woman just growled at me, when I was bringing the bag out.” Sad that, even when people do inconvenient things, that we can’t summon at least a modicum of grace.
My day began at 1 a.m., proceeding to the shuttle down to Phoenix at 2:30, a somewhat chaotic scene at TSA, which led to a group of us being sent to another TSA check-point, on the other side of the terminal-and an only slightly less chaotic scene. I have rather mastered the art of removing items that need to be placed in separate tubs, ahead of time, thus not being obtrusive to other passengers or to the officers. It worked nicely, this morning.
Once in St. Louis, I got brunch at Bagel Bakery, directly across from our gate. A message came, around Noon, saying the flight to Boston was delayed, so I just settled into Joseph Campbell’s “Myths of Light”, that much deeper. It turned out, though, that the message was in error, so I informed the gate clerk, who checked and found that the flight crew had made up for the late departure from San Diego and would be on time, after all.
We got into Boston, as scheduled, waited at baggage claim for about thirty minutes, and upon finding that Mom was still with us, I proceeded to the rental car center, via a suitably crowded mega bus. Budget’s office, inside the garage itself, was not crowded, and I was in my vehicle in short order. Then came getting out of the Airport. I had almost navigated the Logan Labyrinth, when the driver in front of me stopped, got out and threw away some trash, then got back in her vehicle and- just sat, looking over at me like she was at wit’s end. A MassPort officer came over, and directed me as to how to get the rest of the way towards Revere, then removed some cones that were between me and the actual road. I was out of Boston, five minutes later.
When I was a teenager, being able to navigate Bell Circle, in Revere, at rush hour was deemed a rite of passage by every older man who ever mentored a kid on the near North Shore. I managed, back then. Nowadays, Bell is a shadow of its former self, thanks to properly placed traffic lights and yield signs that are actually obeyed by those approaching them. I was at my Mom’s place of residence, twenty minutes after leaving Logan International Airport. The once terrifying Near North Shore traffic had lost its menace.
Mom was silent, but she opened her eyes, just a bit, and grasped my hand, as I spoke to her and kissed her forehead. Her breath and pulse are still discernible and I know she was able to hear us singing along to James Taylor’s and Carole King’s performances of timeless songs, like “You’ve Got A Friend”. Dave and Deb left, after about an hour, and I stayed on until the night nurse got there. She had her own struggles to get to work, in the rain, but in the end, all was well. I bid Mom good night, promising to come back tomorrow morning.
The elevator to the first floor found me stuck inside, due to a brief power outage, then everything came back on. I was “rescued” by another night nurse who was waiting on the first floor. The drive from Lynnfield to Bedford was made in the rain, and of course once near the motel, GPS got bollixed up and sent me to the next lot over. As I backed up in that lot, to turn around, a random guy wandered from behind my vehicle, because that’s what happens, when it’s dark, rainy and late at night. We are always expected to be on game. He was a security guard for the lot’s owner, it turned out, and was not unpleasant.
Now, I’m in my comfortable room and rest will come easy.
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A Sagittarian Seeker 