“I’ve sailed the oceans and all Seven Seas
I’ve been separated by all Six Degrees
When breaking my bones or just skinning my knees
You’ve always been such a comfort to me
I’m grown up now
And I have children of my own, you know
Lived East and West
But never found that place, my second home
So when I’m troubled
Or I’m lost out in the darkest night
It’s always nice to know
That you left on the front porch light
And when the shoreline has faded from view
I know I’ll still find my way back to you
You been the lighthouse that I’ve always known
Though it’s been ten years since your light has shown
It’s still you, guiding me home”
The Beacon- words/music by Dan May (2014)
I can think of no other song that tugs at my heartstrings like Dan May’s “The Beacon”. I get teary eyed almost every time I listen to it- it reminds me so much of my mother. I was fortunate enough to take my mom to see Dan perform it before she passed, and I read the lyrics at her funeral. It holds a special place in my heart.
Dolores Mae Waters was born in Philadelphia on October 27, 1933, the only child of Edward and Margaret Waters. After graduating from Mastbaum High School, she was employed as a secretary as Standard Pressed Steel.
She met John Robert Leitmeyer at a church dance, and they were married on August 21, 1954, shortly before her 21st birthday. They moved to Albuquerque, NM, where he was stationed as a member of the Ordinance Division of U.S. Army.
After dad’s honorable discharge from the military, they moved to the Fox Chase section of Northeast Philadelphia, where my sister and I were born and raised. Thanks to his training in the military, dad got a job with IBM, repairing mainframe computers and eventually moving up and becoming a service manager for the Philadelphia region.
Whenever I watch “Leave it to Beaver”, it reminds me of my family growing up. June Cleaver must have been based on mother. She was a stay-at-home mom, taking care of the house and kids, making sure dinner was ready when dad got home. Mom was the compassionate ear and dad was the disciplinarian. I remember when I was a teen, mom wanted to get a job, and dad said, “No way!” He viewed earning the income as the man’s responsibility, which was not an uncommon view at that time. She did eventually take a volunteer position at Jeanes Hospital, which she did for many years.
Eventually my sister and I both got married and moved out, and had children of our own. I think it was a difficult transition for mom and dad at first, being empty-nesters. But we remained close and enjoyed our family get-togethers. As they got older, I remember dad asking me to take care of mom when he was gone- he wasn’t in great health and I think he knew she would likely outlive him. There was really no need for him to mention it to me, but I reassured him that I would always take care of her. Sadly my father passed away suddenly in 2010, at the age of 77. I will never forget the phone call from my mom- dad was on the recliner and just stopped breathing. She called 9-1-1, and they told her to try to get him on the floor to administer CPR- an impossible task as my dad was so much bigger and heavier than her. When the EMTs arrived, they tried to revive him to no avail. My heart broke for my mom, as those few minutes she was by herself must have been terrifying for her.
Being alone was a difficult transition for Mom, but she was determined to make dad proud and show us that she could get by on her own. She eventually moved into a retirement community, where she made a new group of friends and stayed very active. And Mom always loved getting together with the family. She and I would frequently go to shows together, particularly at the Sellersville Theater. The Oak Ridge Boys were one of her favorites.
Our first grandchild was born in 2018. My son and his wife were living in Newcastle, England at the time. Mom was 85 years old when Sage was born. She had never had a passport, and had never been overseas. She hadn’t been in an airplane in over 40 years. But I asked her if she would want to take the trip to England to see her great-grandchild. Surprisingly, she didn’t hesitate and said, “Yes!” So we got her a passport, and arranged the trip.
Since she had never been to Europe, I added short excursions to London and Paris to our itinerary after we visited our family. The trip was bittersweet- it was a happy time and probably my best memory of me spending time with my mother, but I also saw first hand that she was in declining health. She got extremely airsick on the flight over and I had to get medical assistance for her at the airport on our arrival. And I learned for the first time that she could not walk very far or go up stairs without getting severely out of breath. But we took our time, I made sure there was always elevator or escalator around, and we minimized our walking as much as possible. It all worked out fine, and she had the time of her life.
The next few years were tough- mom fought through breast cancer, heart failure, CoVid isolation, and early signs of dementia. One of the most difficult decisions I ever made was telling her I thought she needed to move to assisted living. She was getting confused a lot, losing weight, and having difficulty managing her medication. I swayed her by telling her we wanted her to live closer to us, as the assisted living facility was only 5 minutes from our house. They provided 3 meals a day, would help her with her medication, had lots of activities, and full-time nursing care if she had any emergencies. She agreed to make the move. I was so happy the first time I went to visit her, and she was playing a card game with one of her new friends.
Mom continued to go downhill, and the staff at her new home eventually recommended she go on hospice care. But no matter how poorly she felt, she was always smiling and would tell everyone she felt fine. She passed away on July 25, 2022. I will never forget the brief smile I saw on her face just a few minutes before her last breath- thinking back on a life well-lived, I’m sure. She had only been in assisted living for four months, but she touched the hearts of the whole staff. I was deeply moved when several aides stayed on their own time after their shift to be with us during mom’s final hours. As the hospice nurse told us, though death is always sad, mom died peacefully in a touching and beautiful end surrounded by her loved ones. And now our loving memories live on.
“And when the shoreline has faded from view
I know I’ll still find my way back to you
You been the lighthouse that I’ve always known
Though it’s been (three) years since your light has shown
It’s still you, guiding me home.”
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