There is a story that needs to be told about this picture. You look at it and see an older woman wearing a hat and a corsage. Maybe you wonder why she is dressed like that—is it her birthday or Mother’s Day?
This is my Mom, Joanne Hannah Agnes Poth Joyce. Two weeks after this picture was taken, she died as a result of her lung cancer.
This photo was taken at my brother Tim’s wedding. He is the youngest of my mother’s eight living children. He and his wife Connie moved their wedding date to early April from May so they would be sure she could be there.
We all knew that her earthly life was drawing to a close.
But what none of us knew was that my Mom would reign over this day like a wedding planner. She rented potted palms to flank the mantel piece in our living room. She directed the decorating of the house and had her hand in the food preparations. Together the family cooked, cleaned and helped produce Tim and Connie’s wedding under the watchful eye of my mother. It was held in my parent’s living room, with folding chairs set up to face the adorned mantle. She entertained everyone trading reminiscences and opinions. It was a day filled with laughter and fun. My brother Tim remembers her being, “Charming, funny, opinionated, filled with that love that brimmed over on her when she was alive,” that day.
It was my Mom’s last and probably best party.
The night before, another brother, Michael, (I have four) and I went to the all-night supermarket to purchase a few last minute items ordered up by Mom. She wanted more fresh flowers and probably, knowing her, extra food—just in case.
She was delighted when her mother -of -the -groom dress arrived a few days earlier. And she planned her outfit down to the last detail, including her hat.
And now she wanted lilac nail polish to do her nails so they would match her dress.
Michael and I wandered around the cavernous store and finally found the nail polish. I remember him saying how crazy it was to be out searching for exactly the right shade of nail polish for our dying mother.
This story tells you a lot about my Mom—she wanted to be engaged in life and to be part of her children’s lives. She showed us how to live—and how to die with grace and joy–and even a little verve.
What a BEAUTIFUL story………and a beautiful mother…..I loved it.
Thanks, Leila. I really enjoyed writing this.
Brought me back to that special day. I can smell the daisys and the baking. I can taste the little pasteries that Beth Baxter brought and my Mom snuck home in her purse. Thanks Enjoyed this story very much
Thanks,Connie for filling in some of the details I forgot. It was an amazingly happy day–and you and Tim were so lovely in love.
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Articulate and a well told sweet memory and loving tribute. Keep writing about people and things you love.
How beautiful, Kathy! Now we all know where you get your gusto and love of life….from your darling Mom!!!! Thanks for sharing and may your loving memories continue to give you great pleasure.
PS- You look just like your Mom!!!! 🙂
It is actually rare to find practiced individuals on this issue, however you be understood as you are aware of what you are writing about! Cheers
I cried when I read this. She was the essence of life!
Thank you Ellen.
Not only is this a beautiful story about your mother, but I feel it and the comment from the bride should be required reading for all the brides who want to spend small fortunes so that they can be princesses at perfect weddings. I can’t help but feel that when they finally grow up enough to actually BE married that they will wish that they had a wedding like this one instead.
Rita–what a wondeful observation about Connie, my lovely sister-in-law. the wedding was really special –and Tim and Connie gave my Mom the best gift they could have.
Hi Kathy, While all your tales enchant, I recall your having verbalized this tableau of your mom’s vigour to the end. It was your special gift to me to use regarding the mate with whom I shared formative decades. In turn, your lesson has encouraged me to volunteer to mentor SoliVita’s widow’s support group. As for so much you do, THANK YOU. Fondly, Gail Jackson-Wells