Only Life is More Colorful
Mom’s Last Words: Jewelry as a Living Legacy

How much of love is served by memory?

I bet you all remember your first kiss – maybe even what your beloved was wearing when you met.

My parents were married 57 years.  It wasn’t a “they lived happily ever after” marriage – it was a deep, character building marriage through life stages:  sometimes like a pair of oxen pulling a heavy wagon; others a carefree couple spontaneously driving out to watch the full moon rise over the Grand Canyon as they held each other on the edge.

Mom's Last Words Blog: Cynthia's parents
My mother lived the last 12 years of her life with breast cancer.

We were all in a bit of denial about when her end was coming, especially Dad. No one was ready for Mother to die.

At the last minute, Mum allowed herself to climb into the hospital bed we set up by the kitchen, and she entered a day or two of unresponsiveness while her breath pumped a steady rhythm. Maybe she was digging deeply …going about reconciling herself to the business of dying. She did not want to leave us.

At one point, she rose up out of her coma and called “Get me Marc! Marc – bring me Marc!!”

We alerted my father, and in a stumbling shattered gait he moved to her bedside. Their hands entwined, she opened her eyes, looked directly into his and declared in a strong, even voice, “Marc, I will love you forever.”

Then, she slid back into unconsciousness, entering a deep coma.

She never spoke again, and those were her last words.

Three days later, when her last child arrived through the door, she knew it….the rhythm of her breath began to weaken from steam engine to whisper.

Dad asked us to wheel mom and her bed into their bedroom and position her hospital bed at the same height as their marital bed, so he could sleep next to her one last time.

We made a picnic dinner and sat on blankets spread on my parents’ bedroom floor eating, telling stories and laughing about our life together so she could hear us and know we would have each other in her absence.

Mom's Last Words blog: Cynthia's family
Her breath got lighter and lighter and slower and less regular. She died with all of us circling her bed, making a chain of linked hands while also touching her body.

Her daughters changed her clothes and scattered rose petals, then left the room so Dad could say his goodbyes to her. He slept with her in his arms, until he had to loosen his embrace, as her body became too cold to bear.

And, the part about her rising from her coma declaring “Marc, I will love you forever?”
Dad doesn’t remember it. He was in such shock facing the prospect of her death that he doesn’t remember. 

He lost her twice. He lost her, and he lost the memory of her pledge of infinite love.

Cynthia's Mother
What happens to love when we die?

We’ve all heard “I will love you ‘til the day I die” but she said, “I will Love you FOREVER.” And she meant that purposedly – FOREVER.

One of the most profound and essential conversations between them and he didn’t remember it. No memory of her loving promises to help him through his widower’s walk.

One way I help clients touch loving memories is through redesigning inherited jewels so they can wear them close in their everyday lives. Those jewels form a chain – a tangible link between what was before and what will be after.

I touch the Green Tourmaline ring and remember my parents encouraging my gemstone business by purchasing the tourmaline, and my mother wearing it in a ring.

The ring doesn’t suit me, but the gem sure does. I’m going create a pinky ring for the Green Tourmaline and as sparks of green radiate from that gem, I’ll see Mother’s mischievous, yet wise, hazel eyes and remember how she always encouraged me.

I can do that for you too. Jewelry is a legacy to those who come after. Take the next step to start creating your Jewel of Love.

See Cynthia Renée's custom jewelry design portfolio here.


Discover how your jewels can be a guide to personal transformation.

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