Can You Hear Me Now

It may be possible to gild pure gold, but who can make his mother more beautiful?

Mahatma Gandhi

My mother, Bernadine Mary Hazinski Prokop, passed away this past Friday at 4:40 a.m. Arizona Time. She was 98 years old. There is much that I would like to say about Mom, but it’s too early in my grieving to do it justice. Give me time for I have much to write about. For now, I am going to use this space to show the world bits and pieces of Mom over the past 15 or so years.

Some of these videos are true treasures. I love listening to her stories and I am thankful that I took the time to record them. There were quite a few surprises that may have been otherwise lost. The world will never know what untold stories she took with her.

The videos of us singing together are strictly an acquired taste, but they have their own charm. Still, no matter how off-key, off-tempo, and awkward we are, I am thankful they exist. I wish there were a dozen more. After watching them you might not agree.

If nothing else, I am pleased to have all these videos here in one place. Even if I am the only one who watches them, they are worth preserving.

In no particular order, here they are.

Mom Reminiscing Part One.

Mom Reminiscing Part Two.

Mom tells how she met Dad — with a quick glimpse of my brother, Bob.

I adore this next video! Mom is in the Mood — with a video bomb from my dad. Who knows what Mom’s life would have been like if she married Paul?

Mom Sings the Swoyersville Fight Song.

At the Sugar Bowl in Scottsdale, Arizona — with a glimpse of my brother, Richard.

You Are My Sunshine. Mom sang this song with the hospice nurses shortly before her death. Thankfully, my sister was able to capture a few seconds of it on her phone.

Blue Christmas. Mom LOVED Elvis!

Can’t Help Falling in Love With You. Like I said, Mom LOVED Elvis!

Daydream Believer. This is my favorite of our duets.

Irene Goodnight. This was our final duet.

Sadly, I recorded only one more video of Mom, but I am not going to share it here. It was taken shortly after my brother Richard’s death and it feels a little too personal right now. Grief builds upon grief and Mom’s passing has shown me how much more I still have to process from my two brother’s deaths.

If you walk away with anything from this missive, I hope it’s this. If your parents are still alive, take the time to sit them down, turn on your camera, and get them talking. You will not regret it.

Thank you for reading and watching.

It feels like it always did
the way the sun drifts lazily across the blue robin sky
or the moon and stars
punching holes in a sea of darkness until they are swallowed by the dawn
these things I’ve always known and counted on
the constants and the sames

Until now
when they are not
nor will they ever be again

Not when it feels like it always did
no more