On day three, as Beth and I sat and sat and sat, waiting by our mother's side, we began to talk about Mom's sisters - our aunts, now long gone. We got out a photo album that I'd kept up in Mom's room and started looking at pictures.
Beth exclaimed, "Look at Marion! That must have been when she was still singing opera!" I added, "Look at Ethel! The classic gowns she designed would still wow Hollywood!"
As Beth and I got lost in the past, talking about Mom's sisters, Mom stirred. We looked up, reached to hold her hands, and she let go. To this day, I believe that she was spurred on by the talk of her sisters. Maybe they were encouraging her to pass over to be with them. We both believe Mom heard every word we said. She heard the excitement in our voices, as we reminisced. She knew it was okay to go, and that she would not be forgotten. We hadn't forgotten our aunts. We certainly wouldn't forget out mother. She finally felt she could let go.
As for Mavis, when the answer her question about Mom and "Is she dead yet?" was finally, "Yes, Mavis, she is," Mavis' only response was a quiet, "I loved her so."
We all did, Mavis.