My mother was an amazing woman.  She crossed the globe to find her true self, her true life.  As a woman with a great brain, coming-of-age in the 50s only meant marriage, babies, housework, no kind of life for someone so inquisitive and curious, so brave.  Over the ocean alone, on a ship for three months, a job in a foreign land, a marriage and two children.  All the while working, questioning, answering.  She blossomed into the woman she wanted to be, knew she could be, in the land to be free and home for the brave.  I guess with everything that has happened I somehow forgot those days.  Her heyday.  But ageing, it ain’t for sissies,  These last few years, she lost her health, her sight, her dignity.  Little by little, can’t drive, can’t play cards, can’t see, can’t eat.  Everyone says, “Her time had come”, “She’s at peace”, “It was expected”.  But for me, it was the opposite.  Lately, things had been steady, almost uneventful, stable.  She had just returned from a quick hospital visit with a clean, given the circumstances, bill of health.  But I guess you just never know.  She was to return that same day, to die.  As I sat there in the hospital room, I held her, and sang to her, wishing her well, and sending her off on this forever voyage to a truly foreign land.  I keep expecting her to call to tell me she’s arrived safely and how uncomfortable the bed is.  But that will never happen.  I will miss you forever Mama.  Forever, and ever.