Her Final Home {chronicle}

My mother, who suffered with Alzheimers for the past decade or so, entered Her Final Home on March 10, 2015.  She would have turned 95 in May.  Since she and I both love(d) history, I thought I’d share some of hers with you, and file it in the {chronicle} category.

My mother was born, the third daughter, in Annapolis Royal, Nova Scotia, Canada.  The year she turned three her father came to the States to work, as many Nova Scotians did in the early 20th century, between the world wars.

Saying goodbye

Saying goodbye

As my mother told it, one man would come, find a job, send for his family, and when the next job came available, send for the next man, and the process continued thus.  My grandfather came in April of 1923, and sent for his family in July.

My grandmother and the three little girls came from Nova Scotia to Boston, Massachusetts by boat.  To my knowledge my grandparents only visited their birthplace once, after their children were grown.  My mother and one sister went before my mother married.  My mother went two other times in her retirement, once with a sister and once with a brother.

My mother lived in a number of houses growing up, all in Andover, Massachusetts.  She took great pride in showing those houses to us.  All or all but one are still standing, in good repair, still private homes in use.

Elm Court  c.1924

Elm Court c.1924

Two brothers were born after the family came to Andover.  Because my mother was in the middle … well, you know what the middle is like.  There were four years between her and her next oldest sister, and six years between her and the first brother.  She was ‘daddy’s little girl’.

They lived in Shawsheen Village, and then Temple Place, which is several buildings divided into apartments (the same today as in the 1920s), a house on High Street, one on Elm Court, Chickering Court, two in Ballardvale, 79 Pine Street, and finally the house on Salem Street.

One time they moved because they outgrew where they were.  One time it was the Great Depression and they lost their house (after the Depression, when Grandpa got his job back).  The last house was owned by Phillips Academy, which employed my grandfather as a carpenter.  My grandparents were able to buy the house from the Academy at a good price.

My mother’s favorite house was 79 Pine Street.  In a world where all is fair, they would have still lived in it after the Depression.  I wish I could remember all the good times about which she told me.  Good memories.

79 Pine Street 1932  (my mom is in the middle)

79 Pine Street 1932
(my mom is in the middle)

My mother lived in many different homes over the course of her life, mostly in Massachusetts after I grew up.  She lived in Andover again for a number of years until about twenty years ago.  I figure she lived in Andover about fifty years, more than half her life.  No wonder she missed it in her declining years.

When the dementia took over she would talk to me about trying to find the train to get somewhere.  One of her favorite parts of living in Andover was riding the train into Boston.  She worked in Boston before I was born.  She didn’t have a driver’s license until I was four.

It was so hard to convince her through the dementia that she didn’t need to get any where any more.  She seemed to be trying to get to work.  She hadn’t worked in nearly thirty years.

I imagine my mother has quite forgotten all of the many places she called home on this earth.  She is in her Final Home at last.  I came across the certificate from my mother’s baptism and church membership the other day.  She was eleven years old.  Her best friend’s father was the minister.

My mother trusted in the sacrificial blood of Jesus Christ, God’s Son, to redeem her from her sins and was assured of God’s gift of eternal life.  At no time did the Alzheimer’s steal that from her.  Until the last conversation we had, which was not very recent, she still looked forward to joining our loved ones.

Marion Joyce Dennison Moore knew, as I know, that her Final Home is heaven.

13 thoughts on “Her Final Home {chronicle}

  1. Cate Russell-Cole says:

    Joyce, I can’t hit the ‘like’ button on this. I am grateful to hear that your mother’s suffering has ended, but I feel your pain. I have lost both my parents and I know what you’re going through.

    Thank you for sharing your beautiful tribute to your mum.

    May the love, peace and provision of the Lord be very, very close to you at this time.


  2. Karen says:

    Dear Joyce, what a beautiful chronicle ♥ I am very sorry for your loss. I saw your mention of your mom’s passing in one of your other posts last week and wasn’t sure if it was recent. I’m sorry I neglected to ask. I pray for God’s comfort for you and all of your family. God bless you.



  3. Norma Beaird says:


    I’m so sorry to hear about your precious mother. Losing parents or grandparents is very difficult; however, and praise the Lord, it is always a comfort to know that they are rejoicing in the arms of Jesus. What a joy to know that we will see them again one day, walking on streets of gold, singing with the angels and worshipping the Savior who gives us eternal life.

    May God send peace and comfort during this time of sadness, but may you rejoice in knowing that her final home is the beautiful “mansion just over the hilltop”.


    • thesilverofhisfining says:

      Thank you, Norma. Your words are such a comfort, and I love “Mansion Over the Hilltop”, as did my Mother. Thanks for sharing it. “If in this life only we have hope in Christ, we are of all men most miserable. But now is Christ risen from the dead…” 1Cor. 15:19-20


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