Yesterday morning, we lost my 95 year old mother-in-law, Florence.

This was not a total surprise. Her health had been declining in the six months since she fell and broke a bunch of ribs. Still, we thought we’d have a little more time. Alas, that was not to be. There’s never enough time.

I’ve known Florence for my entire adult life. She was one of those rare people that had a way of attracting good people to her—in a quiet, low-key way. She married her childhood sweetheart, they raised two sons, then she made a good life for herself for the 26 years after her life partner lost his battle with brain cancer.

She was a sister, mother, grandmother, and great grandmother—and a friend to many. People of all ages were attracted into her orbit. We called her Savta, which means grandmother in Hebrew.

When we celebrated her 95th birthday in January, Florence was still very independent—living alone (with a daytime caregiver), hard of hearing, but very much aware of everything going on—texting on her iPhone and working on her taxes.

Two weeks later, she fell. The ribs healed, but her health continued to decline. The last six months she was in and out of hospitals, rehab centers, a not-so-caring care home, and finally an assisted living facility.

We spent a good day with Florence three weeks ago, but after that she seemed to be quietly running out of stream. She slipped away quietly yesterday morning, without too much bother or fuss., which is what I would have expected of her.

We’re glad Savta’s no longer in pain. but the world is a less bright place without her in it.

May her memory be for a blessing.

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