life changes

My mother passed away last week. I was with her for about three weeks immediately before that, during which time she grew increasingly weak. I was present and holding her hand when she went. I want to keep a record of various thoughts and memories, nothing that shouldn't be read by others but not necessarily of particular interest to anyone else. Caveat lector! Food for the body: As a result of her illness (multiple myeloma) in the last few months mom lost most of her appetite as well as a lot of weight. She revived a bit when my wife and I and then my brother and his girlfriend showed up. One evening she treated us at a nearby Portuguese restaurant. She had asked my brother if he liked lobster and when he said he did she presumed that that was what he actually wanted and tried to order it for him, which he had to forestall to get what he actually happened to want. There was half a lobster in my paella though which was excellent, so mom ended the evening satisfied. On one afternoon mom announced that she felt like calves' liver with onions and a vanilla shake. We guess that her system was demanding iron, but anyway it was another success, though only partial as the liver was overdone after I had to go get and then re-heat it. The next day I searched the kitchen and found her blender, and several times over the next week made her coffee milk shakes which she enjoyed even when she stopped eating solid food. One day when she still had energy to go out, my wife and I took her for mexican. Mom had tacos, a great favorite, and shared a margarita with me. She was already on pretty strong pain meds, but she and I agreed, "why not?" on the margarita. Mom wanted to take us to her local sushi bar. Unfortunately, time ran out and we never made it. A few days after the funeral my brother and I went there to honor her memory. No sake though as it was byos. Food for the mind: For years mom participated in and sometimes ran a book club for local residents and friends. This was a major activity for her. Going through her books, there were a number stuffed with half a dozen or more 5x7 index cards lovingly written out longhand with notes about the author, the plot, points of interest in the book, etc. She often told me about these in phone conversations, as she was deciding which books to review. I wonder how the club will continue now that she is gone. She said that people did not always read the book, but just came to hear the reviewer (not always her) talk about it. Mom was for many years a serious player of duplicate bridge. For those who do not know what this is, the cards are pre-dealt at each table and the same hands are played by different teams. Thus one's team of two is not playing against the other two at that table, but against other teams who had had the same cards, so the challenge is to do the best one can given the deal. This takes most of the randomness out of the game. Mom played in tournaments and on cruises, and had accumulated a large number of "Master points". Oddly, for a highly sophisticated reader, physics teacher and self-avowed intellectual, mom also loved tawdry bodice-rippers. I have now donated whole shelves of them to the local library, where they can start a KSamuels Memorial Romance wing. She was having a lot of trouble concentrating towards the end, and was trying to get through one of these books. She complained that it was going way too slow, she was a third through and no one had gotten laid yet. I think she finally tossed that one. We watched a lot of the summer Olympics together in the last weeks. More on that another time, but in the present context it should be noted that mom had fun discussing with my wife the physiques of the male divers. Things got rather explicit, and I ran from the room in embarassment, prompting her to note that I had always been prudish. Food for the soul: A few days before she died, but was still sometimes alert, I asked mom what she thought came after. She said pretty flatly that there was nothing, when the body went the mind was just gone. I said that I tended to agree, but that if we were both wrong we would meet again. Death is somehow the ultimate adventure. As a scientist, despite my personal opinion and despite having no particular desire to hurry things along, I admit to a certain curiosity to find out whether I'm wrong. We all get to find that out eventually I guess.