Are Battles Truly Won? (Ruth Gilbert: 1916- 2012)

My mother died on April 5, 2012.  Her last words to my father were:  “I love you.”  And oh did she love him, in her ineffable way, for 69 years — and she also loved her  children and children-in-law and her grandchildren, and her sister and cousins and their children, nieces and nephews, and her numerous longtime friends, and colleagues from her career as a dance therapist.  I can hear her oldest friends calling “Ruthie” to her.  And now I am without her, but filled with so many memories of our dialogue that sustains her wisdom and grace for me.  My mother understood why people said things and did things more clearly than anyone else I’ve ever known.   When she felt that someone wasn’t giving me a fair shake, she turned on the light for me.  And when I needed to be kinder, she let me know, too.  Since my mother left,  I’ve received so many helpful calls and written words to help me through.  And a beautiful hand-made chrysanthemum pillow that my mother would have adored, too.  I’ve also been collecting hugs  that feel so warm and have been shown various business world kindnesses as I navigate through all the paperwork.   My mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s is over and maybe this is one battle that’s truly been won.