1/1/2015
My mom, Susan Marie Timmel DuMond, nagged me for years to lie about my age.
"Your grandmother lied about her age, I lie about my age. You need to start lying about your age," she said.
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| Susan DuMond |
"But, I don’t want to lie about my age, Mom."
"You’re making the rest of us look bad if you don’t lie about your age."
"Yeah, whatever," I grumbled and continued not lying about my age.
I sold my house late 2012, and was able to go home to see Mom more frequently in 2013. We celebrated her 85th birthday in June, 2013.
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| Mom's birthday party 2013 |
After a ‘medical incident’ that happened in the fall, we moved Mom to Our House Assisted Living in November, 2013. She was no longer safe living on her own.
I grabbed an airplane ticket to visit her in late February. I talked to her on Saturday, Feb. 15th — we were both looking forward spending time together. She died the next day, unexpectedly, Feb. 16th, 2014.
To say it was a whirlwind of immense suckiness is a gigantic understatement.
New Years Eve, 2014 I decided I needed to get my refund from Southwest Air before enough time passed, and I lost the money.
So I filled out the paperwork, the flights, the cancellation number, the tracking number for correspondence with Southwest, etc., etc., made a copy of her death certificate, attached it, read it and just —
PAUSED.
Her death certificate said she was 86-years-old at time of death.
No. She was 85-years-old.
Then I did the math.
Mom actually WAS 86 + years-old when she died.
I thought she was 85 because…
She had lied to me about her age…
In a strange way, I felt like she got an extra year. And maybe if she did — maybe I got an extra year with her too.
God bless you, Mom. You had the last laugh, after all.
I love you, I miss you and you will always be…
xo,
Pam
P.S. I still don’t lie about my age. I just don’t talk about it.
