Mary Alice Becker (1921 – 2025)

My mother passed away on November 2, 2025 at 104 years old (RIP).

Obituary here: dmefuneral.com/obituaries/Mary-Alice-Becker?obId=46296278

My father died in 1965. My mother raised four children alone. At three years old, I was the youngest. My parents are now buried side by side at St. Stephen Cemetery in Ft. Thomas, Kentucky. Their souls are now together, in heaven, for eternity.

During the six years my mother lived in an assisted living facility in Florence, Kentucky, my wife and I visited with her weekly. My sister was there daily. (My brothers don’t live near here.) I routinely posted about our visits on social media and from time to time included a photo.

For her final three years, my mother lived at SEM Haven in Milford, Ohio. My sister visited with her weekly. I visited with her at least five days each week. Although I largely stopped with the social media posts, I’d still occasionally get asked about her.

When first admitted to SEM Haven, she was asked about what she wanted to do there. “I just want to die,” my mother responded.

Well, she’d been saying that since she was 80 years old. That’s when her physical problems became burdensome. Mom was ready to go. She would routinely ask God why she was still alive and why He wouldn’t take her.

Mentally, my mother remained sharp for her first 100 years. That was a blessing that slowly began to slip away. It was painful to watch her slow yet steady decline as the years went by.

We got hospice involved as it appeared the end was nearing. They interviewed my mother with my sister and me in the room:

How can I describe the anguish when my mother said she didn’t know either of us? Shocked, hurt, crestfallen; that’s a start. God wanted us to empathize with the so many other families who have experienced that pain. Yeah, it hurt. Frankly, it still does.

The morning my mother passed, my sister got there first and called me. As “the strong one,” I notified my brothers and drove to SEM Haven to console my sister. No, I was the one who needed consoling:

As I lifted my mother’s cold, lifeless hand to hold one last time, I cried helplessly for several minutes. That was unexpected yet understandable. Sometimes it’s good to just let it out; and then let go.

I guess that’s why I’ve written this: to get it out there, let go, and move on.

As a final note, the staff and management at SEM Haven were wonderful. The facility has my highest recommendation.

Additionally, although we worked with them only briefly, Queen City Hospice was also exceptional. They were with my mother and comforted her as she took her last breath.

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