To my mom, str8 from my dome

Sometimes there are no last words. There were never any I ever heard, from either my father, who passed in 1996 or my mother who passed today. No last words. It just doesn't happen like that. Where you're there and listening to the jewel that is supposed to be the ultimate nugget of truth that will haunt , terrify , inebriate or release you. Maybe, all of the feelings at once. But there is no last word.

The last words, I made happen with my Grandmother. A woman who I was immensely close to. I think she felt the same of me. Her actions dictated so. One week before her passing I asked her, "Is there anything you can say? Anything I need to know Grandma?" So regal and composed yet so frail, she replied "First you're here then you're gone. Do everything in life you want to, because there is no reason not to do everything and anything you want." Those were her last words to me. And with them the last barriers of myself were torn down. I could be myself, there was nothing holding me back. People who know me would say I never hold back, my wife knows another story. Just like my mother, she knew my other stories. She knew it all.

She died today. I didn't like how she died, but it happened, and there were no last words. We had a final conversation, which by definition is the last time I spoke with her. We talked about her treatment, the diagnosis, and how she was a little tired. She went into the hospital and did not come back. The cancer came back though, and it came back with a vengeance. This Range was not going to be 91. She would be short by 20 years, because she died today.

Machines with new and old replacement parts, kept her alive. Breathing, eating through her nose. Infernal machines and the miracles of technology never cease in their cold effort to do their job, and they did. The would probably work better with machines instead of organic beings, but we haven't figured that out yet. The best healer is us, we humans. Part of that healing are the final words, which I did not get. I never get them. Did anyone? Does anyone? I hope someone does. The machines are for the living. They do the will of others when you have no will to do of your own. They execute with precision their function, which is the projected desire of others. They forestall any hope of a last word. After all, you can't talk with a tube in your mouth.

And you can't deliver final words, last words. The healing words.

Too many movies maybe, but it is an expectation. Nobody wants to be on the other side of the planet, but commerce has driven us a far away from our old neighborhoods. We've made new neighborhoods now, and words final or otherwise are given over the phone, either attached to a wire or through the air. The words are digitized then reformed, repackaged, re-routed, delivered, confirmed. It almost sounds like they are right next to you, but they aren't. They can't hold up a phone or dial out, they are sleeping. Waiting for more sleep.

She loved to sleep. Sleep and eat were my mom's favorite hobbies. That an pining over my fatter, who she loved till today, and who she will love right now. I think they are hugging, and hoping we do the right thing. Who am I kidding. That *I* do the right thing. I wish I knew what that was, because there is my heart and my head. Who rules? Why now? Where are my last words.

We had words all the time she and I. We would parry , dodge and curse. Hurl insults, and hurl laughter at each other as if we were married or even something deeper, like we had known each other for so long it was too long. Somehow I think , she has always been there. So familiar, yet so distant. She and I made that happen. She sought refuge in derivatives of drugs, I sought a way out. We both got our wish. I loved her, even if it was hard for me to admit it. It hurt too much.

I am happy I didn't have last words. she probably would have angered me then I'd not only have to live with no last words, but yet another regret package that would never go away. Funny, how you get those as you grow older. You don't want them, but they come with the package of life. Regrets are free at least, and you have ultimate control for the most part of creating new regrets. Thankfully I had no new ones with my mom. I loved her. I loved making her laugh, and I loved arguing with her. I loved telling her I loved her, no matter that my brain thought that it was a bad idea. But my heart, which is my mom, I loved.

All the love in the world wont give me last words. But then again, I find, I didn't need them in the first place. Her first words to me were the last ones; "I love you!".

I love you mom. I love you Myrna Lee. Rest In Peace.

-John