My mother-in-law died yesterday.
At 3AM she got up to use the bathroom. On the way to back to her bed she told the night nurse in the nursing home where she lived that she thought she was going to go now.
The night nurse, Louise – a kind-hearted, caring angel in human form – sat with her and held her hand until she died.
I was able to talk more openly with my mother-in-law than I ever have been able to with my own mother. She was a warm, compassionate, good-humoured, caring person.
All of her children loved her deeply. She had friends aplenty in the town she lived and was regarded as a bit of a character. Everyone I ever met who knew her had a kind word to say about her.
I remember being surprised years ago to learn that her favourite novel was Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte; surprised because she was a woman who liked the footy and the bingo and a glass of beer in the afternoon. It didn’t seem to fit that she would like a novel so full of romance and tragedy, but I know that she read it over a hundred times and often spoke of Catherine and Heathcliff.
I will miss you, Joy Mary. You were a light in this world.
Here is a poem by Emily Bronte, just for you.
With all my love XXX
“I’m happiest when most away
I can bear my soul from its home of clay
On a windy night when the moon is bright
And the eye can wander through worlds of light –
When I am not and none beside
Nor earth nor sea nor cloudless sky
But only spirit wandering wide
Through infinite immensity…”
*Image by raetard at DeviantArt