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Friday, July 22, 2011


It was a very emotional trip to California. I think that’s an understatement considering the magnitude of the trip. Imagine saying goodbye to your mother and not knowing if she would be alive to see you again. Then compound those emotions with her conveying that she is certain that this will be the last time she will spend time with you. Well, she is 82 years old. She works 5 days a week, not because she needs the income, but because she needs to socialize. I believe that’s the secret to her longevity.
 The strange thing about this trip was that most of the time I shared with my mother, we were in serious discussion about her estate, trust, and will. I can’t think of a more enlightening conversation to have with your mother. When we visited the cemetery, she even reminded me to engrave her name on the headstone that marks my father’s grave. How’s that for fun and entertainment? I know she wanted the transition of her death to be as smooth as possible, but I found the whole discussion to be morbid. I listened to her as carefully as I could because I knew that it was very important to her. The more we discussed her death, the more comfortable I became with the subject. I think that was her intention. She tried to give me the priceless gift of peace-of-mind. I never knew any of my grandparents. I wasn’t exposed to death until my father died in 1994. I can’t say that it will be any easier emotionally for me when she dies, but I think she will rest a little easier knowing that she tried to console me about her eventual death. Fortunately, she has a family history of longevity, so I don’t expect anything to happen to her in the near future. Erika often kids her about the topic. “You told me you were going to die soon when you were 70. You said the same thing when you were 75. Now you are 82. I’m not too worried about your death anytime soon.”


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