Goodbye, Mom, I have already dreamed a visit with you!

 

My mom passed away on Saturday. She was 91, in her own home, with amazing hospice care and the even more amazing care of my brother, who has managed the lion’s share of her care for the past few years with grace and good spirits. 

I was fortunate to have some good moments with her in the past month, when the cloud of dementia seemed to clear and she was able to have brief but lucid communication with me. 

She was an amazing woman and I don’t think I’ve ever known anyone who knew her who didn’t wholeheartedly agree with that statement. She accepted people as they were, without judgment, and she spent most of her life standing up for those whose voices were not heard. She worked in NC government her entire career, closely supporting three NC Democratic governors who did good things and who valued her thoughtful compassion for all. The last chapter of her career was as the Executive Secretary of the NC Industrial Commission. She took on this complex role and learned it inside and out. The work she did there was highly regarded by the team of attorneys and the Board of Commissioners who worked with her. 

As a mom, she did anything and everything possible to ensure her three children were loved and supported. She told me from the time I was little that I could do anything I wanted to. She was beloved by my and my brothers’ friends, who experienced her warmth and support regularly. 

She was a terrific grandma too, the only person my children were allowed to stay with through their childhoods. I’m sure it was her modeling that fed the fierce “mama bear” mode that kicks in with my own children, my grandchildren, my animals, and through the years as I worked with children who very much needed my advocacy as clients. 

I have so many memories and stories. Last night I had a dream that was hard but in the end hopeful, and at the end of that dream my mom arrived, fully free from dementia, able in body, and we spent the rest of that very long meandering dream time by the sea somewhere in England, listening to the ocean and perusing an open air market for coffee and some food, looking at gift items, and talking the way we always did, about everything. I hope it’s the first of many of the dreamtime visits we will have. I don’t know what happens when we die, but I do know that the spirits of my dad, Keil Bay, and other beloved friends whether human or 4-legged are with me often. I’m grateful. 

I’m also grateful for being able to be with my brothers on Saturday as we said goodbye to her, remembered some of the many stories, cried, hugged, and talked a little about what this next stage of life will look like for us. 

Love you, mom. I hope you’re with dad dancing in the open air pavilion you told me about, when you were first married and he was stationed in Alabama. See you in the dreamtime! 

November Hill farm journal, 233

 Such a busy week, with work, good time with grandkids and my son, writing weekend, and some much-needed farm time to catch up with a few chores. There’s so much going on in the country, the world, and in my smaller piece of the world, and it seems true for everyone I talk with. May we all find ways to do good work, find our joy, and get time with loved ones. 

Some of my joy today was taking a little time to photograph some of the native plantings on the farm. 

This is the possumhaw viburnum I planted some years back, along the fence and barnyard gate. There are two but this one seems to be truly happy in its space and is huge and beautiful. 

This is the white baptisia, which always blooms later than the indigo one just beyond it. 

Here are the two possumhaws - the one on the right is much less full and gets maybe a smidge less sunlight through the day. 

Along the side strip these ferns come in every year and the green and golds have now volunteered for two years in front of them. They’re hard to spot here but I’m so happy to see them!

One of the 7 viburnums I planted in front of the fence a couples of years ago. This one is down by the bird haven area. This stretch of the fence gets more shade and nothing I’ve planted seems to be thriving there, but this little viburnum is hanging on for now. 

Its neighbor, also hanging on but not growing much. 

Further up this one is taller and I’m hoping these keep growing. 

This one is healthy but still on the short side. 

This one is spreading out, between two bayberries. My goal up here is a hedgerow for screening and for the birds and insects and other wildlife. 

This one is doing super well, in a much sunnier part of the fence line. 

The first bloom on this oakleaf hydrangea. It was eaten to the ground by deer and then I moved it forward to a sunnier position. It’s coming back and I’m thrilled to see the first bloom!

I have a lot of work to do with the gardens but I’m happy to see things are green and growing and in some cases, blooming. 

A good day. 

Beautiful morning on Sweet Bay Bald

 

November Hill farm journal, 232

 It’s been over a month since I last posted, partly because we have a lot of birthdays in April, which tends to make it a busier month, and partly because of some major family stuff going on that has taken a lot of all our energies. 

My mom had some kind of stroke event, was hospitalized, seemed to bounce back, then declined, and has been discharged home for over a week now with hospice care. We are grateful that she has been in and out of awareness, even with her dementia, so that we’ve been able to sit with her, hold her constantly moving hands, and have a few moments of her knowing who we are and that we love her. She’s 92, at home in her own room, has my brother taking amazing care of her along with his son, a seasoned ICU nurse, and she is not in any pain. This is how she wanted to go, and I’m so glad it’s the way it’s turned out. 

My daughter had a sudden and serious vision issue happen, which necessitated a quick visit to eye doctor, who referred to eye care center, where she was seen quickly and diagnosed, and received an injection into her eye. They’ll monitor this closely and I’m grateful for good and quick care with this. 

Our cat Pippin had a sudden bladder blockage and had to go to the ER hospital where he was admitted for a couple of nights and treated. He’s home and back to normal.

All three of us have been sick with some kind of cold/flu thing. I’m coughing as hard as I can ever remember doing, and have now gone onto antibiotics. I shudder to think what this would be like had I not gotten the flu shot and the Covid booster. 

All that said, November Hill is a glorious jungle and even the fact that every single inch of it needs either mowing or weeding or pruning doesn’t deter me from loving its lush beauty right now. All I can see out any window is greenery. I don’t like the hot summer months much, nor the biting annoying insects, but whenever I look at the richness of our foliage I rejoice. 

I’m also grateful for family, friends, my amazing grandchildren, and all my animal family. And, during this time with much stress around me, a new and very big season of Escape To The Country on Britbox. This show got me through the first administration, and its doing its best right now. Also, Jeni’s ice cream, the pineapple upside down cake flavor. Oh my gosh is it good. 

I’m doing the littlest bit of writing, slightly more reading, not enough gardening, and honestly, not enough barn time with the equines lately, but looking forward to the rest of May and getting back to these things that sustain me. 

Right now, I’m feeling hugged by November Hill. 

May the forest be with us all! (And the Force!)

November Hill farm journal, 231

 

Spring is here on November Hill. The dogwoods are gorgeous this year, the redbuds are still going, and things are coming up in the various beds and natural areas of the farm. 

A partial list:

Mayapple

Baptisia

Columbine

Goldenrod

Mountain mint

Bee balm

Stokes aster

Coneflower

I’m working some every day to get beds prepped for spring/onward, and will be working on the Poplar Folly path as well. As happens every spring here, the place is all abuzz with activity. I’ve seen swallowtails and all kinds of native bees plus of course our honeybee girls. 

Little Man has had a corneal scratch that has required some care and a vet visit, but he’s okay and all the equines are eager for the green that’s coming up in the pastures. This week we’ll likely switch to some version of night-time turn-out, though I’m hoping we might be able to do a 20/24 thing for awhile - ie in stalls for rest time during the warmest part of the day with fans on, then out the rest of the time. 

This week I’m thinking a lot about our country and the resistance movement that is happening. I’m also thinking about Maggie Smith’s amazing poem, Good Bones. I think it fits, and I do believe that the last line is something to keep all of us going. We can make this place beautiful. 

Good Bones

By Maggies Smith

Life is short, though I keep this from my children.

Life is short, and I’ve shortened mine

in a thousand delicious, ill-advised ways,

a thousand deliciously ill-advised ways

I’ll keep from my children. The world is at least

fifty percent terrible, and that’s a conservative

estimate, though I keep this from my children.

For every bird there is a stone thrown at a bird.

For every loved child, a child broken, bagged,

sunk in a lake. Life is short and the world

is at least half terrible, and for every kind

stranger, there is one who would break you,

though I keep this from my children. I am trying

to sell them the world. Any decent realtor,

walking you through a real shithole, chirps on

about good bones: This place could be beautiful,

right? You could make this place beautiful.