In 2017, October 15th was a Sunday. And on the evening of that particular Sunday, seven years ago today, I had my last conversation with my mother.
Only ... I didn't know it at the time.
Of course, there was no way for me to have known that would be my last phone call with her. Sometimes, it's easy to know we're in an ending. Most times, however, we don't know when we experience a final moment.
...We cannot see such a moment as it happens, and certainly not before it unfolds. Usually, we only know a moment as a last time in relation to something that comes later, something that makes us reflect back.
...Each year that I reflect on this anniversary, I write about wonder. I wonder about that conversation: Did I say everything I needed to say? Did I *hear* everything I should have heard, or could have heard? And, what might I have said or done differently if I had known I was having my very last conversation with my mother in this life?
...In the coming week, I'll observe the seventh anniversary of Mom's passing. She passed suddenly, unexpectedly, but peacefully, on 10/19/2017. I had a month to prepare for my father's death, to say goodbye to him, in 2013. I could only react to my mother's passing after she was gone. Perhaps, I'm still reacting.
Image: Top view of a latte with a heart in its foam. Photographed during an afternoon in Doylestown, PA, seven years ago. Mom hearted coffee, so this image seems appropriate.
