I nudged Maryanne to wake her so she could answer the call. On the other end was Scott, My mom's best friend. Oh, the poor man. Between sobs, he told us that Mom had died last night. He could barely get out the words. Her friend Robin had found her in her bed that morning, having passed in the early hours of September 17th 2021 (USA time). The doctor thinks she probably had a heart attack.
We suddenly felt so very far away and unable to do anything except share in the disabling shock and sadness. Mom had just been through a big surgery a couple of weeks ago. Everyone that knew her had been worried about it. We all let out a huge sigh of relief when her good friend Robin called us to say Mom was through the operation and in the recovery room. Over the next couple of weeks, we talked every day and she seemed to be steadily improving as expected for what she has been through. She was understandably in a lot of pain, but she was slowly getting better and doing a little more each day. By the time of Scott's call, we had all let our guards down and were expecting many more years to share in her life. The news was a real gut punch. One of the regular subjects during my calls to Mom was each of our desires to get me 'back home' for a visit. We'd missed a visit to the USA to share in her 70th birthday as we were mid passage from NZ to Chile, our plans to visit in 2020 had to be canceled because of COVID and it looked like we wouldn't be back in her neck of the woods for at least a couple of years. “Hang on, Mom” I would tell her, “We're coming as fast as we can.”
Now, along with the shock and grief, Maryanne and I were facing a mountain of things to do in the coming days. The last thing we wanted to do was go sailing, but the phone signal at Cape Upstart was terrible, so we had to move somewhere with a better one so we could spend all of our time on the internet and on the phone to connect with our family back home, and to be as supportive as was possible from so far away.
The sail to Greys Bay, at the town of Bowen, was even worse than the previous leg. We double reefed and spent the whole day tacking. Spray regularly came over the deck and hit me in the face. It seemed so appropriate that even the weather couldn't manage to perk up. Through each mile, I couldn't focus on what we were doing. I could only think about Mom and how we would never get to see her again. She was such a shining light to everyone that knew her, a beacon of fun and love. She was the main influence in my life and the reason we were here instead of working thankless jobs at a desk for unfeeling bosses.
We got to Bowen right at sunset like the monohull had back at Cape Upstart. It had been a very long, draining day and we were both exhausted physically as well as emotionally. We knew we wouldn't need any help falling asleep, but we decided to open a bottle of wine anyway. On one of my last calls to Mom, she said one of the first things she was looking forward to when we actually saw her again was opening a bottle of wine and spending the evening telling stories around the table. Now that would never be, so Maryanne and I raised glasses in a toast to her and then spent the evening reminiscing about the best mom and mother-in-law we could have ever hoped to have.
{Maryanne: While Kyle was a child, growing up (with Carla raising two boys as a single parent) Carla had so many surgeries that Kyle totally lost count, she was regularly in and out of hospital, and spent several years in a wheelchair. All this meant that Kyle was somewhat numbed to the risk of death, having so many data points to prove his Mom was invincible. As an adult he understood the risks, but really was not ready to believe it was at all possible for his Mom to just not-be any longer. We are all so devastated.}
So many wonderful Memories of 'Mom' - the amazing Carla Maningas.
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