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