Dear friends of Wibby,
Yesterday morning, Wibby suffered a sudden and catastrophic cerebral hemorrhage; we lost her at 3:30 yesterday afternoon. She was at home with my family when it happened, and we called an ambulance immediately, but the doctors at the hospital told us that nothing could be done for her except to keep her comfortable. Apart from the initial headache, she was not in pain, and she was not afraid. All three of her children were holding her when she died; her last words before she lost consciousness were “Thank you.”
All my life, people have told me that I am my father’s child, and in many ways that’s true. But since his death, it has been my great good luck to have the chance to recognize how much I am my mother’s child, as well, though I still have so much growing to do to become the kind of person she was. I hope I can also learn to be for my own children the mother she has always been to me: deeply loyal (Wibby never forgot the name of a little girl in third grade who did not invite me to her birthday party), never critical, always proud, and full to overflowing with unending love. Wibby’s mother lived to be 97, and her grandmother lived to be 96, and I have always assumed I would be deep into old age myself before I lost her. She had so many more stories I wanted to capture in this blog, so many things to say that I hoped to record here as a source of solace for when, finally, she was gone. I can’t bear to think that already her funny voice and curious mind and fierce opinions are gone from this world.
Here in Wibby’s family, we are all in terrible shock right now, but we also know that this is exactly the way Wibby wanted to go– perhaps not quite so soon, but quickly, and surrounded by great love– and we are so grateful that she was her own inimitable self right up until the very last day. But those of you who read this blog will understand how much I miss my sweet, funny mama.
With a broken heart, Margaret