Mama’s Final Journey

April 26 marks three years since Mama, Fay Lankford, gained her angel wings. It has taken me this long to reach a point where I can think about writing this. I’m still not sure I’m entirely ready, but here goes anyway. Memories fade, and I don’t want to lose any of them.

When the COVID-19 pandemic struck in early 2020, everyone was affected, some more than others. Mama, a senior living alone, was very active at her county senior center, attending weekly events there. She often helped develop some of those events. She enjoyed the group, and they enjoyed her. I attended events with her on two occasions and saw that firsthand. Mama looked forward to their day trips and saved so she could sign up as soon as they were announced. That all ended abruptly when COVID struck, and the center was forced to shut down like so many businesses.

Like other families, she formed a bubble with two of my sisters, Vanessa and Bonnie. When Mama moved less than two miles from Vanessa in 2007, she started spending every Sunday at Vanessa’s house, always cooking Sunday dinner. During COVID, she often visited during the week as well. Bonnie and her husband own two cottages near the beach in Biloxi, Mississippi, and spend a lot of time there. As often as she wanted to go, they took Mama with them. She loved it there.

Mama suffered from several medical conditions, one of which required her to undergo a colostomy in 2010. As a result, she had to wear a colostomy bag and undergo twice-weekly dialysis treatments. In May 2020, Mama spent three to four weeks in the hospital. Following her hospital stay, her treatments were increased to three times a week starting in June 2020.

She made it through the rest of 2020 as well as could be expected. After all, we all were in a daze, weren’t we? By the time 2021 rolled around, she started to get stir-crazy. She wanted to get back to the senior center, but they were still closed. She put a mask on, went to the grocery store as needed, went for her weekly dialysis treatments, spent weekends with Vanessa, and spent time in Biloxi with Bonnie. But that was not enough.

Finally, in the fall of 2021, the senior center reopened, and off she went. I remember reminding her to wear her mask. She kept assuring me that she was, but as time passed, I sensed she had stopped wearing it. I finally asked her about it, and she confessed she was not, nor were others attending.

By the end of 2021, Mama had contracted COVID. She spent New Year’s Day at Vanessa’s house, planning to cook a ham she had gotten from the senior center, collard greens, and black-eyed peas—all traditional Southern New Year’s Day foods. However, she was too sick to cook. That night, Vanessa took Mama to the emergency room. Vanessa froze the ham and never cooked the New Year’s Day meal.

God was watching over Vanessa that day. Despite spending the entire day with Mama and then riding with her in a closed car to the hospital, Vanessa never caught COVID.

Mama needed high levels of oxygen and was placed on a respirator. They kept her for several days before releasing her with instructions to follow up with Kaiser the next day. As instructed, Vanessa drove Mama to Kaiser, an hour’s drive away. Vanessa was not allowed inside due to COVID restrictions, so she sat in her car until about 9 PM when someone called to say, after observing her all day, they were keeping Mama overnight.

Mama missed her regular dialysis treatment that day, which had to be rescheduled the next day in downtown Atlanta instead of her usual local location due to COVID. Bonnie and her husband picked Mama up at Kaiser, took her to Atlanta for dialysis, and then back home afterward. Vanessa came to check on Mama, stay with her for a while, and make soup for dinner. Kaiser had asked Mama to check her oxygen levels several times a day, which Vanessa did.

It was low, so Mama and Vanessa called the Kaiser nurse, who suggested they call 911 and let the first responders check on her. Vanessa called them and, while waiting for them to arrive, called me via FaceTime so I could observe as well. We watched while they checked her and had her do some deep breathing exercises. They determined it was not serious enough to go to the hospital and were about to leave when she coughed up blood.

The first responders saw that and asked her how long it had been happening. She pulled a handful of bloody Kleenex out of her pocket and told them it had been all day. They took her to the hospital at that point.

We can’t remember how long Mama stayed in the hospital, but we assume it was several days. Once she was stabilized, they moved her to a rehabilitation center on Cleveland Avenue in Atlanta to continue respiratory treatment and regain her strength. After being there for weeks, Mama started refusing the respirator. At that point, it was determined she could be moved to the rehab section of a nursing home in Union City to continue treatment.

Unfortunately, rehab did not go as we had hoped. At first, she could not have visitors due to COVID restrictions. The nursing home staff were inconsistent with her treatment schedule, and she hated the food. Their excuse for everything was that they were short-handed due to the pandemic. Vanessa and I had several conversations with management in hopes of improving her situation.

Her physical health and mental state, however, continued to decline—her kidneys were failing, her muscles gave out, and she reached the point where she could no longer walk. They moved Mama into the nursing home section of the facility. Restrictions were lifted, and she was allowed visitors, which would temporarily lift her spirits.

Sadly, that was not enough, and she stopped eating and grew weaker.

In March 2022, Mama was told she had reached the point of no return and would not be able to return to her home. They discussed her financial situation and what the future held for her. She understood her finances and saw her life savings quickly depleting. At this point, her mental state began to deteriorate, and she eventually gave up.

In the early hours of April 26, Vanessa received a call from the nursing home informing her that Mama was unresponsive and had been rushed to the hospital. They told Vanessa to meet them there but did not mention that Mama had passed. Upon her arrival at the hospital, the doctor informed Vanessa that Mama was gone before the ambulance arrived. Although COVID-19 is not listed as the cause of death on her death certificate, I believe it ultimately initiated her final decline.

Mama was 89 years old when she passed and was not ready to leave us. She still had rocking chair memories to make and had already started planning her 90th birthday party for January 2023.

When Daddy passed in 2019, I sat her down and had the difficult conversation about her final wishes. She wanted her ashes to be scattered in two places close to her heart: the Atlantic Ocean at Daytona Beach, Florida, and the Gulf of Mexico in Biloxi, Mississippi. She also wanted each of her five children to have a small share of her ashes. Now, mind you, she did not ask us if we wanted her ashes, but like it or not, we each got our share. Her ashes were divided into five small boxes and two larger bags.

All of Mama’s friends had already passed, leading her to express that she did not want a service. Given her request and due to the pandemic, our immediate family gathered for lunch a month later to celebrate Mama and distribute her ashes. Each of us received a small box, while both Bonnie and Jennifer received an additional larger bag to scatter.

The day after our lunch, my brother Michael sent a group text with the photo below. Mama was an avid Braves fan and watched every game, so he left his share of her ashes at the Hank Aaron Memorial at the Old Fulton County Stadium site in Atlanta. You can see the box in front of the number 44. 

Photo by Michael Lankford

On July 3, 2022, Bonnie and her family scattered one of the bags of Mama’s ashes at Biloxi Bay. While she did not take a photo, she shared the following on Facebook that day:

“This morning, this photo of Mama came up in my memories of eight years ago. We were in Biloxi working on the cottage we had just purchased. Coincidentally, today is the day we had chosen to take her cremains to a fishing pier in Biloxi Bay. One of my sisters, Jennifer, carried some to a fishing pier at the ocean in Daytona. These were her two favorite vacation destinations, and she loved to fish. We said our goodbyes, and as we were standing there, several dolphins swam by in the background.”

Photo by Bonnie Streetman

On August 16, 2022, Jennifer and her family scattered the remaining bag of Mama’s ashes at the pier she loved to fish at in Daytona. Later that day, Jennifer scattered her share of Mama’s ashes on the beach in front of Perry’s Ocean Edge Resort in Daytona, in a heart-shaped trench. We shared vacations at Perry’s in Daytona with Mama, so that location held special meaning. Jennifer said they stood on the beach until the waves took Mama away.

Photo by Jennifer Craine

Photo by Jennifer Craine

Photo by Jennifer Craine

When Mama’s estate was finalized and divided among her five children, there was one penny left. My niece Kayla was planning a trip to Rome, Italy. Since Mama had visited Rome in 2001 and had a wonderful time, it made perfect sense to send the penny with Kayla. She threw it into the Trevi Fountain in memory of her MawMaw while there.

Photo by Kayla Marston

Photo by Kayla Marston

Photo by Kayla Marston

Vanessa and I both brought Mama’s ashes to our homes in Georgia and Virginia. Two years ago, we commissioned Michael to create stained-glass pieces to hold the boxes containing her ashes. Vanessa’s piece is pink and rests on her living room mantle. Mine is purple and rests on a bookcase in my spare bedroom where I keep family history material, along with other treasured items.

And finally, as the family historian, it bothered me that Mama does not have a tombstone, so I commissioned Michael to create a stained-glass memorial for her. She loved pansies and purple, both of which are reflected in the final piece. Michael also made a second one for Vanessa. Mine hangs above a photo of Daddy’s Naval Training Center boot camp graduation in my spare bedroom, while Vanessa’s hangs in her living room window.

When I wrote stories about Mama in the past, I always read them to her several times and obtained her approval before publishing. Obviously, that is not possible this time, so all I can do is pray that she would have approved. Rest in peace, Mama, you are missed.