Song for Eleanor

At 3 pm on September 13, 2006, my step-mother drove into the back of another car on her way to her appointment with the hair dresser. Then she drove over a curb and high-centered her car on a sewer access cover. She was slumped over in the front seat and complaining of a headache when the policeman who had been called to investigate a "hit and run" accident found her. Although she was lucid, he wisely called for an ambulance to transport her to Washington County Hospital. She lost consciousness in the ER. A CT scan of her brain documented a large cerebral hemorrhage with mass effect and effacement of the sulci. By 8pm, Elizabeth and Alban had joined my father and I at the bedside. At 9:15pm the respiratory therapist and nurse came and at our request removed her from life support. She died five minutes later without drawing a breath.

The English words for other mothers, step-mother and mother-in-law, are not pleasant to pronounce and in themselves suggest the strained relationships that are often caricatured in jokes or slurs. Each time in our twenty-two year relationship that I introduced Eleanor to a friend or acquaintance I wished for a better word. She was not my mother, I didn’t get my navel from her, but she was richly endowed with maternal qualities and shared them generously. I wanted a word to use that would honor her without invading the place in my heart that I reserved for my biologic mother whose death of cancer created the opportunity for there to be an Eleanor in my life.

I came to love her. I came to love her hugs. (another word that doesn’t do justice to the action it signifies). I loved how easy it was to talk with her. I loved her sense of humor. I loved how well she did things. I loved how much she loved my father and how completely dedicated she was to his welfare. I loved her for loving my children. I loved her for her care of my nieces and nephew. I loved her for her silence when the way I did things was not the way she did things.

I miss you, Eleanor, deeply.