Elizabeth (Ann) Weathers was born October 13th 1941. She succumbed to a courageous battle with ovarian cancer on Tuesday, March 2, 2010. Ann was the oldest of four children born to Thomas and Frances Phipps of Ft. Worth, Texas. She married the love of her life, Ken Weathers, on June 21, 1969. Daughter Melody was born in 1974 and is their only child.
Ann attended the University of North Texas where she where received her masters degree in English and Education. She loved to write and was published in several magazines; she also loved music and was the star soprano of her husband’s church choir. Ann worked as a teacher, the church secretary at St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, and spent much of her life as a treasured stay at home mother. Ann is survived by husband Ken, daughter Melody, brothers Terry and Joseph Phipps, and grandchildren Brady and Taylie.
In the late Summer of 2005, Ann had some tests done which led to more tests, and eventually, the diagnoses of stage 3c ovarian cancer. A huge debulking surgery followed. Two years of on again, off again chemotherapy and radiation were the next step. It was a life altering process, but she never stopped being positive. Positive that she would fight. Even in the last days, she was sure this was only a temporary set back.
Mom came to be with me and help me for a couple of weeks after Brady was born. I was new to motherhood and soaked in her wisdom and nurturing like the warmth of the sun. She was there for the preparation, his birth, and a week or so after. Brady had some minor health issues and had to go to the hospital for daily blood tests. It was really no big deal in retrospect, but I cried as if I were the baby. She comforted me and assured me that everything would be ok. It was. He recovered and it was time for Mom to head back to Grants Pass. I remember holding my tiny baby in the kitchen, looking out the window with tears streaming down my face, watching her car drive away. I thought, “Wait! Please don’t leave me! What am I going to do now?”
I was so blessed to have Mom and Dad near me for the last five years. I am so thankful that my children know their grandparents. I have many fond memories from the last several years. One of our favorite things to do together was to go on a coffee date and share a mocha. Dutch bothers was her favorite. This month as well, she shared a special two weeks with me before she had to go. Five days before she died, I stopped and picked up two Dutch brothers mochas on the way over. We sat on her couch, held hands, and shared what would be our last coffee date.
Now once again, I have that familiar ache and sense of panic.
“Wait! Please don’t leave me! What am I going to do now?”
I am comforted knowing that she is in a better place. She is no longer in pain and I will be with her again one day. It doesn’t take away the ache, or the habit of picking up the phone to tell her some silly thing that happened today, but it helps.
As a child, I recall times that I would roll my eyes at something Mom said or did and think, “I will NEVER do that!” Now every time I do, rather than roll my eyes, I smile. I am proud of every piece of me that is like her.
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