Paper short abstract:

The 'Rocket' top was a glamourous garment my mother 'loved to death'. It gained its moniker from my mother's unshakeable belief that she "would go straight up, express, like a rocket, to God!" Gaining a status and life of its own, it transformed waiting for death from a passive to embodied experience.

Paper long abstract:

The 'Rocket' top, a garment my mother 'loved to death', was resplendent to look at, emerald and acquamarine chiffon, with bell sleeves, and a 'pious' neckline peppered with tiny, gold bugle beads - the kind of top that one might wear while sipping cocktails at a posh island resort. Not everyone's first choice to wear while dying, which my mother Marie did, as part of her preparations to meet her Maker. Glamourous and feminine, it gained its moniker from my mother's unshakeable belief that she "would go straight up, express, like a rocket, to God!"

Marie wanted to look good, even though in hospital, the mortal world, she had chosen to starve to death, by refusing all medications and food for several weeks. During that time, there were many aborted missions to God central, however, each time, the Rocket top was carefully washed and hung in the wardrobe of her hospital room, ready for action. This top gained a status and life of its own, even annotated in clinical notes as a special top, that if requested, must be found. It was imbued with power: nurses grew emotional about talking about it; some defended it from being removed by others who were ignorant of its significance; and others openly grieved as they dressed Marie in it. In short, the legendary 'Rocket' top had become an agent of change that visually transported waiting for death in a clinical, detached environment, from being a passive, austere affair, to celebrating the arrival at one's destiny.