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.
"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.
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 —
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…
P.S. I still don’t lie about my age. I just don’t talk about it.