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| RantMom, pre rapture and definitely looking better than the most recent previous version |
One of RantWoman's favorite stories about RantMom and Quakers:
Before RantMom moved permanently to Seattle, she came for visits and sometimes when to worship with RantWoman. During one such visit, someone RantWoman definitely considers a weighty Friend rose and gave a long message full of despair and concern.
RantWoman did not rush up after and ask some version of "Friend, how are you doing?" RantWoman does not know whether, hopefully, someone else reached out. RantWoman and RantMom headed out to the bus to connect with Little Sister. On the bus, RantMom said at her church, someone would definitely have reached out to someone who expressed that much despair, perhaps with some Bible citations. RantMom asked what would be the norm about a message like that among Quakers.
RantWoman demurred: the Friend who gave the message has a master's degree in theology and sometimes taught Bible study. Plus, RantWoman said "Well, a lot of Quakers think God can handle the questions."
RantMom said "I am so glad you found the Quakers."
Tentative coordinates for memorial
Saturday March 21, 2 pm at Rainier Beach Presbyterian church
Rainier Beach Presbyterian Church
or on the chur's Facebook page
Special thank you to Rocky, honorary death doula
With NO apologies to Sylvester Stallone, this Rocky is a CVERY personable black cat who outlived a previous resident at the extremely caring and conscientious Adult Family Home where RantMom spent the very last days of her life. Rocky is an average domestic shorthair. He has thin legs and a solid torso. Based on a report from Little Sister that it took him two tries to get all the way onto RantMom's bed, he probably is also elderly.
Sleeping with cats WOULD NOT OCCUR previously in RantMom's life. RantMom said that on the farm where she grew up, perhaps one white cat would live indoors and other barn cats would not come to the house. Mr. Tuxedo, the RantFamily's childhood cat always slept on old towels under the bottom shelf of the pantry. Later, after all the kids had moved out, RantMom inherited a scruffy medium-haired mix who drooled when petted and would not have been allowed on RantMom's bed.
So, if anything were going to make RantMom sit up bolt upright on her deathbed and bellow "Absolutely not," probably having a cat jump up and settle between her legs. A hospice nurse said that hospice patients do sometimes sit bolt upright and express extreme displeasure. We, RantWoman, Little Sister, Nephew made sure RantMom heard us acknowledge that cat comfort in bed would definitely be something unusual for RantMom.
We also decided to trust that the cat could recognize someone who needed comfort that beloved humans could not provide.
RantWoman will now return to news of many turbulent events, with advice that seems to make sense: "PACE the rage."
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