Thelma Sewell, Age 107

My 107-year-old grandmother – yes, 107! – died yesterday.  
 
She was born the month before the Wright Brothers’ flight in 1903. She raised two children and outlived two husbands. She worked for much of her life and lived at home – and drove – until after she turned 100. She lived long enough to see great-great-grandchildren.
 
I often thought about researching how many North Carolinians there are that old. A tiny club, I’m sure.
 
Her full name was Thelma Leonhirth Parker Sewell. The Leonhirth tells you she had some German in her, and she could be tough – and intimidating to rambunctious grandchildren, especially inside her carefully decorated and immaculately clean home.
 
She grew up in Rose Hill, then attended Chowan College in Murfreesboro, in Hertford County. There she met my grandfather, Gary Parker, and there they raised my mother Becky and my uncle George, both of whom are still living.
 
My grandfather died young, before I was born. Thelma later remarried John Sewell, and outlived him too – by many years.
 
When she turned 100, my parents organized a big birthday bash. She got congratulatory letters from the Governor and both Senators. Dozens of friends, neighbors and family members came.  She had a big time.
 
A couple of years later, she had to move into a nursing home in nearby Ahoskie. She remained active and in amazingly good health nearly up to her death. She kept on the move – first with the help of a walker and lately in a wheelchair – playing Bingo, harassing staff members and visiting old friends in the home. Actually, the children and grandchildren of old friends. She outlived all her contemporaries.
 
She kept her faculties to an amazing degree; last Christmas was the first time I didn’t think she knew who I was.
 
Certainly, longevity has its good points. But, in recent years, she would say: “I’ve lived too long. I’m ready to go.”
 
Her doctor called Wednesday morning to say she was fading. There was really nothing wrong with her, he said – nothing that surgery or medicine could fix. Just the decay and deterioration inevitable after 107 years.
 
That afternoon, she went peacefully.
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Gary Pearce

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Thelma Sewell, Age 107

My 107-year-old grandmother – yes, 107! – died yesterday.  
 
She was born the month before the Wright Brothers’ flight in 1903. She raised two children and outlived two husbands. She worked for much of her life and lived at home – and drove – until after she turned 100. She lived long enough to see great-great-grandchildren.
 
I often thought about researching how many North Carolinians there are that old. A tiny club, I’m sure.
 
Her full name was Thelma Leonhirth Parker Sewell. The Leonhirth tells you she had some German in her, and she could be tough – and intimidating to rambunctious grandchildren, especially inside her carefully decorated and immaculately clean home.
 
She grew up in Rose Hill, then attended Chowan College in Murfreesboro, in Hertford County. There she met my grandfather, Gary Parker, and there they raised my mother Becky and my uncle George, both of whom are still living.
 
My grandfather died young, before I was born. Thelma later remarried John Sewell, and outlived him too – by many years.
 
When she turned 100, my parents organized a big birthday bash. She got congratulatory letters from the Governor and both Senators. Dozens of friends, neighbors and family members came.  She had a big time.
 
A couple of years later, she had to move into a nursing home in nearby Ahoskie. She remained active and in amazingly good health nearly up to her death. She kept on the move – first with the help of a walker and lately in a wheelchair – playing Bingo, harassing staff members and visiting old friends in the home. Actually, the children and grandchildren of old friends. She outlived all her contemporaries.
 
She kept her faculties to an amazing degree; last Christmas was the first time I didn’t think she knew who I was.
 
Certainly, longevity has its good points. But, in recent years, she would say: “I’ve lived too long. I’m ready to go.”
 
Her doctor called Wednesday morning to say she was fading. There was really nothing wrong with her, he said – nothing that surgery or medicine could fix. Just the decay and deterioration inevitable after 107 years.
 
That afternoon, she went peacefully.
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Gary Pearce

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