Missing Mae: Two years

Reading my brother-in-law Dan's Facebook post this morning reminded me that it has been two years since we lost my dear mother-in-law, Mae "Peanuts" Fisher. She was such a remarkably strong presence in all our lives.  That pain of loss has been especially keen in the past months since we also lost Jim's brother, Scott.

Today, in honor of both of them, I'm reminded of Dumbledore's words to Harry Potter when he is missing his parents: "The dead never really leave us." As I walk around my house and my eyes fall on something she sent us or a photograph, I am grateful that both of these sweet, loving, compassionate people were in my life.

A brief recess to remember a wonderful soul

In addition to the extra time I've lately devoted to my new job, we were called to New Jersey on Labor Day weekend because of the sudden illness and then death of Jim's wonderful younger brother, Scott.  That's Anna, above, with her Uncle Scott  in 1989 when we all gathered to see Jim's Dad receive an honorary degree from Seton Hall Law School.  Scott was a librarian, so he and Peanuts and I had lots in common.  He began as a school librarian and then rose to be in charge of several law libraries for a large law firm.  He loved Harry Potter and mysteries, so we shared lots of good talks about books.  His nieces and nephews were devastated by his passing as were all of us in his family.  He will be greatly missed and sadly mourned.  Thanks for visiting the blog.  More posts when time allows.

One Year out: Missing Mae

It's been one year since we lost Jim's mother, Mae "Peanuts" Fisher.  We are still feeling her loss keenly and can hardly believe it's been a year.  Dan has a post about his grandma today, too.  At certain times, I sense her presence. For example, on Sunday, we had breakfast with our niece, Cilloran, who had been home in New Jersey during spring break.  She and her sister had helped Jim's brother Scott go through Mom's extensive collection of cats to pick out some for each of the grandchildren and the rest of us.  Cilloran handed me a little cat figurine that was carved and said it had reminded them all of me and they thought I should have it.  It was one I had given Mom years ago and now it has come back to me.

Why should I be out of mind

Because I am out of sight?

I am waiting for you for an interval

Somewhere very near

Just around the corner

All is well.

~Canon Henry Scott Holland from

"Death is Nothing at All"

Missing Mae

We've been in New Jersey this week sending my dearest friend to her final rest, my mother-in-law, Mae "Peanuts" Fisher. She was a cancer survivor who made it through open heart surgery two years ago, but a very aggressive new cancer could not be beaten. She was the mother of four sons (my Jim is the eldest) and when we married, she embraced me as a daughter. The picture above was taken at Christmas in 1976, the first time I met her. I always felt sorry for my friends who didn't get along with their mothers-in-law. We shared so many interests--she was also a cat-loving librarian and an avid reader who enjoyed needlework. We both adored the Harry Potter books and mysteries especially. More importantly, we could talk about anything together.

Mae was a unique blend of brilliant intelligence and limitless compassion. At the wake, one woman said, "When I heard the word 'lady', Peanuts' face would appear in my mind's eye." In addition to friends and co-workers, her handy man and plumber both came to the wake as well. We all heard wonderful stories of her kindness and generosity and saw the genuine emotional toll of her passing on people other than family.



Family was everything to Mom and she was especially devoted to her grandchildren and they to her. (You may remember that our Anna did the Susan B. Komen three-day walk in Boston several summers ago in tribute to her Grandma. This is Dan's tribute to her on his blog.) This photo is from her 80th birthday party last summer. A few weeks ago, when she was so ill, the grandchildren all began to change their profile pictures on Facebook to photos of themselves with Grandma. We of the older generation quickly followed right along. The kids called it Grandma Solidarity. In a perfect tribute to their grandma who had carried all of them so many times, they were her pallbearers.

"Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion."
Dylan Thomas