Maria’s mother died yesterday; she was nearly a hundred years old. Maria is taking some time off blogging as she absorbs what is always a landscape event in anyone’s life. We each only have one mother, and a mother’s death is transformative. It’s a sad day here, full of meaning.

Maria and I both had complicated mothers and complex relationships with them. At the end of her life, I was estranged from my mother and didn’t see or speak with her in the year before her death. I regret it, but I felt it necessary then and now for my health and survival.

(above, firewood is stacked, thanks Maria)

Maria can speak of her mother if she wishes; she is understanding and inevitably sad. I wanted to spend most of this day with her; we went out for breakfast and sat outside for a long time talking in the yard chairs. It was a beautiful time. I wanted to be there for her, and I think I was.

Maria’s mother only visited the farm once or twice, usually during the Open Houses. After that, we only saw her when we drove to her condominium near Schenectady to visit with her. She was always courteous to me but showed little interest in my life.

We are thinking of lighting a bonfire in her memory this evening. I’d like that.

As much trouble as I had with my mother, I still feel the sting of her loss and the deep regret I will carry to the grave about our inability to find truce or come to peace with one another.  I couldn’t be near her or let my daughter near her.

My mother had a sad and difficult life, sadly turning her to some dark places. She inspired me to become a feminist when I saw how my father and other men undermined her all of her life. In her own way, she loved me very much and I loved her.

I am more understanding now than I was when she died, and I strongly feel Maria’s sadness. It is hard to see someone you love in pain. The day was beautiful; Zip came out and sat with us. he and the dogs were reading an understanding, and he has lost interest in hunting the hens.

It’s unusual for cats to kill or eat chickens, especially if they are fed regularly. Hungry feral cats are a different story.

It was a sad day for us, but a beautiful day. I want to be by her side today and tonight and for as long as she wants.

Zip had another special day; he is very much at home here. I’ll write about that in a few minutes.

The table setting at Jean’s Place spoke clearly of Fall. It was oddly beautiful. Maria and I had breakfast there. It was comforting to go there.

Maria at the wildflower garden

Maria finished the last firewood stacking last night. We are ready for winter.

The Peaceable Kingdom