Betty Brady 1927 – 2023

It is with sadness that I pass along that my mother, Betty Brady, has died at the age of 95. 

Mom had been ill the last few years. A bad fall and a bout with Covid the same week put her into the hospital more than a year and a half ago. A stroke followed, which robbed her of the ability to walk and talk. Worsening dementia made each day a challenge for her.

Yet she remained Mom. She was always excited to see me when I visited her daily at Kingston of Vermilion. Although we couldn't hold a conversation, she listened intently to whatever I was talking about. She communicated mostly by nodding, and using her eyebrows to express surprise or displeasure. 

But despite the stroke, she could cobble together a few words now and then. Many times she surprised me by barking, "Hurry up!" if I wasn't moving fast enough to get an aide or return her to her room. And sometimes, clear out of the blue, she made me fall off my chair by blurting out something perfectly clear like, "You know, I've been thinking..." But best of all, she could still say "I love you too" once in a while.

Mom and I had a nightly ritual at Kingston. Each night after dinner, I would push her in her wheelchair around the building, just for entertainment. Almost every staff member we ran into knew Betty Brady, and they would stop and greet her warmly, which made her very happy. A few of the staff had cute nicknames for her, including "Betty Boop," "Grandma," (which she was), and, most hilariously, "Houdini," because of her ability to mysteriously escape from her bed.

The staff at Kingston of Vermilion has been great. Seeing how much the aides and nurses loved Mom was very comforting to me, and made dealing with her illness much easier. And despite her ill health, Mom still had a social life, interacting (and often hanging out late at night) with the aides who cared for her, and enjoying the company of her floor mates in the dementia wing.

Back in the fall of 2017, when Mom turned 90, I wrote a special tribute to her, which you can find here. It looks back on her life as a member of the Greatest Generation. And Mom's reminisces have been featured many times on this blog, including her memories of Halloween in the 1930s in Lorain, and of the small grocery stores in her neighborhood while growing up on Sixth Street. Then there were Mom's memories of being part of famous magician Harry Blackstone's act when he performed at the Palace Theater in Lorain. And of course, there were my memories of Mom taking care of my siblings and me when we were sick.

You've probably heard the old saying, "A Boy's Best Friend is His Mother." Well, in addition to being the best mother a fella could ever have, Mom really was my best friend. I'm going to miss her terribly.

I'll be taking some time off the blog to handle affairs, and will return soon.