Mom & Me Five Archive

...Kitty Carlisle died on Tuesday. She was 96. She died, at home, after after a battle with pneumonia which began in late December, 2006.
    Strange, but her death caught my heart, probably because of my memory of the immediately previous link which goes to a post, written over a year ago, in which I talked about Ms. Carlisle's extraordinary continuance of her life and career. The name of the one woman show mentioned in that post was apparently changed to "Here's to Life", much more appropriate, I think.
    Kitty Carlisle had?, has?, which would be correct?, her own website. I found it while I was searching for her last interview, just to see if it was filled with that same "gosh, gee whiz" quality that seems representative of her style of living. Although the link to that interview, which was published by the St. Louis Dispatch, is no longer available, her website also directs visitors to another article published at the beginning of last year, an enjoyable review of her stage show, her career and her life, with a touch of interview thrown in. The eighth paragraph into the article begins with this intriguing statement, "By her own airy admission, Hart can't remember names anymore, even those of her own grandchildren. But song lyrics, even new ones, still stick in her head." Once again, I can't help but remark, what is dementia, and, as well, what differences does it make? Depends on the person, I guess. Depends on the life.
    When I pointed out Ms. Carlisle's obituary to my mother today and spot read parts of it to her she said something peculiar, "She was ninety-six, hmmm? Well, that's fine."
    Ninety-six, I guess, is a respectable age to die.
    It's funny because, this afternoon, my mother experienced a light and unusual dizzy spell, so, a couple hours after her breakfast she went right back to bed, and I let her. I'm worried, of course, although she's not. I even asked her if she thought she might be planning on dying.
    She glared back at me. "Not yet," she said, full of consternation that I would even think such a thing. Chances are, whatever is causing the dizziness will pass, although we'll see. If not, we'll take a trip to the Valley, or, if necessary, to Urgent Care or the hospital up here. At her age, it's hard for me to remember that she's allowed bad days and ambiguous, fleeting symptoms, just as am I.
    So, anyway, Kitty, this is my standing ovation to you. Your son mentions in the article I read about you today that, "We're working on a terrific memorial." I can imagine, where ever it takes place, you commandeering the sky into one of your luminous, infectious, inviting smiles. Bravo, Kitty! Magnificent run! Thank you for gracing us with, well, with you.