On Saturday, February 16, 2013 at precisely 8 pm, my Mom passed away at home in Cary, North Carolina.
Those of you who follow my blog or my Twitter account will know this is not unexpected. For the past year, Mom has been battling Stage 4 metastatic breast cancer, and this was the conclusion of that battle. We knew the end was coming, but that didn’t make it easier. The final few days of vigil were the most difficult moments I’ve ever had to endure. But when the end finally came, it was peaceful; she drew one last breath, and then drew breath no more.
I was present at the time, as was my brother Charlie, her sister Sue, and her brother Bob. Our family is doing about as well as can be expected, given the circumstances. My brother is flying back to Los Angeles this evening to finish working on the Academy Awards– you’ll be able to see him in the telecast– and he’ll return home afterward for the memorial service.
A huge number of people have offered their love and support through all this, in person or online, and for that I thank you with all my heart. Throughout her life, Mom left a path of love and caring everywhere she went, and if I can emulate her example in even the slightest way, I will count my life successful.
As a creative writer, I thrive on speculation, imagination, and questions of the what-if. And even though I’m not religious, I have a hard time believing that we will not meet again, whether in another world, or another life, or another universe. If infinity is the scale of time on which infinitesimally unlikely things inevitably happen, then we– or future incarnations of us– will indeed meet again.
And in the meantime, every story I have ever written, or ever will write, is dedicated to her on some level, as is the life I live.
Barbara Elaine Williams
8/31/1948 – 2/16/2013
Andrew, I am so sorry for your loss. My thoughts are with you and your family.
This was a lovely tribute. I’m sorry for your loss.
I’m so sorry Andrew. Let me know if I can help at all.
Your dedication of your writing and life to your mother is beautiful and true. We’re here for you.
I know I speak for Quiana as well when I say we are both so sorry to hear of the loss of your mother. I saw your last post and wanted to write something but just could not think of anything really significant enough given the context. I cannot begin to imagine such a loss and it scares me to think my parents are getting up in age and that I may go through that at some point sooner than later. Let us know if we can do anything and condolences to you and your family.
I had the privilege of briefly meeting your mother, and my memory is of a warm and inviting person. I’m sorry for your loss and I hope you and your family are keeping well.