Wha' hoppint?, as Ricky Ricardo might ask?
My Mom passed away last week at the age of 75. She was a fighter and a survivor, the strongest woman I'll ever know. But after sixteen years bouncing back from everything else that was thrown at her - from strokes and a heart attack, to a process that seared her lungs so that they wouldn't fill with fluid, and the amputation of her leg last October, Mom finally was defeated by a breakdown of the inner works. Had she been younger and stronger, surgery might have been the answer; but her healing process had long since been compromised. She never would have made it through the operation.
So Mom was placed in hospice mode, at the hospital where she herself worked as a nurse for nearly forty years, and made comfortable. Thankfully the end wasn't too long in coming, and my three brothers, my sister, and I were all there with her as she passed over to be with all the loved ones who left before her.
Although I was away from the blog the whole week, the concept of Inner Toob was never far from my notice. I've mentioned before the sense of a higher power guiding the serendipity of my channel surfing; landing on a channel just in time to see something that I could use to expand the makings of the TV Universe.
But this time, it was as if Television wasn't going to let me stray from thoughts of the week's events.
Mom passed away last Wednesday morning. That night, Chef died as well on 'South Park'.
Thursday night, the episode of 'Everybody Hates Chris' was "Everybody Hates Funerals". It dealt with the death of a grandparent as seen by the grandchild.
Friday night's episode of 'Doctor Who' on the Sci-Fi Channel was "The Unquiet Dead", which took place in a mortuary in 1869 Cardiff, Wales.
Sci-Fi Channel also premiered a new movie on Saturday night, entitled "Mortuary".
And Sunday night's episode of 'The Wing' ended with a preview that seemed to suggest that the death of actor John Spencer will be reflected in the death of his character of Leo McGarry next week.
Add to this that I brought a DVD of 'Sings &Arrows' home with me, to fill the downtime of that long week, which contains a death, a very theatrical funeral, and scenes in a mortuary and the morgue. I also brought along a DVD of "Remembrance Of The Daleks", the 20th anniversary celebration of 'Doctor Who' which also has scenes set in a mortuary - something I didn't know was coming.
And as if to rub it in, I got back to NYC to find the latest issue of "Entertainment Weekly" in my mailbox; its cover proclaiming "TV IS KING".
There is no escape from Toobworld's reflection on my life, and by extension, on my Mom's. As a matter of fact, her love of 'The Young & The Restless' - and her prized possession of a personally autographed picture of Peter Bergman as Jack Abbott - were mentioned by my sister in her eulogy.
At any rate, if this all seems a little irreverent, well, that's who I am. And I can't be too sad, as Mom is past all her suffering and on the next part of her journey. The faith she helped instill in me says that this life is just a stage, a way-station along the Way. How can I be sad that she's now reunited with my Dad, her parents (hopefully her Dad made it.....), her godson Norman and her neice Linda, as well as all the pets she had through life?
My sister said that Mom's now free of all the pain and suffering of the last sixteen years, but I think Father Tucker had it right in his homily - Mom's trials and tribulations started fifty-one years as she began her second career, that of raising "those five characters" (as Father Tucker dubbed us).
BCnU, Mom. I know I'll never be able to watch 'The Price Is Right' or 'The Young & The Restless' without feeling you near.
Jean Marie Griffin O'Brien