My beloved mother Jane Stoneman died in hospice at 5:11 AM the morning of Friday, December 11, 2020.

Sinai Mortuary, the go-to place for Jewish people in central Phoenix, is handling the arrangements under the able direction of my Aunt Diane, whom Mom trusted with power of attorney and personal representative status. Diane has done more than two years’ worth of heavy lifting in seeing to it that Mom’s needs were met. And it was from Diane that I learned on Friday that Mom, who converted to Judaism in the early 80s as part of her attunement to my stepfather Marty Stoneman, had chosen Sarah as her Hebrew name. (See my blog post “Laugh, Sarah, Laugh” for evidence that there are no coincidences.)

It has been a tough three days, but I found doing this modest tribute to the memory of my mother to be a nice distractive relief. As always, though, I am not 100% satisfied. My attempt at Mom, I think, looks more not unlike her than like her–and there is a huge gap between Not Unlike and Like. But I imagine Mom pshawing me and saying archly, “Son, when it comes to doing my portrait, you can at best only approach Perfection–you can never attain it.” I hasten to add that Mom would never say anything like that in real life. It just makes me feel better to imagine.

Jane & Son

Jubilation lit July with fireworks so grand
Just sipping tea on Mom’s front lawn chair like an ampersand

And oftentimes it is enough to watch as it explodes
And file it as a lovely time amongst the nematodes

Now for the pic Jane Stoneman grins and leans her head just so
Embrance the Moment, says her Grin, then head for parts unknown