November 17, 2015
Mom died. On November 7th.
Everything was fine....I was back from my cruise and had finally gotten caught up on mail, bills, bookings, unpacking and was still tackling some of home repairs...but life was going pretty smoothly. I was happy to finally walk the walk and not just "talk" it by diving into three ministry areas. So here I am...enjoying a Fall in Savannah that still feels like Summer (getting a bit tired of the weather STILL being so hot though...where IS Fall?)...and I get a call October 23rd from my sis that Mom had fallen at the assisted living home and a texted picture of Mom's knee saying she'd fallen on top of the caregiver trying to transfer her to a dining room chair. Lynn said she'd been called by the assisted living to tell her about it and that, except for the knee...she was okay. I asked about X-rays? They hadn't done any. I asked about hip bruising...Lynn said she was going on what they told her and that it was just her knee. Lynn agreed to check herself every inch of Mom and to insist on X-rays of hip and knees. So the next day...Lynn called me from the Emergency Room to tell me Yep. Fractured left hip. No fracture on the knee despite the terrible bruising and swelling. They were admitting her to the hospital. :(((
That was late Saturday night. No flights were even available Sunday as we have a small regional airport. Finally flew out to California Tuesday. Due to coumadin and an irregular and poorly controlled heart rate, she hadn't yet had her hip replacement yet. And Mom was adorable. Some confusion but really less than ever before. So darn sweet! Thanking everybody all the time for taking such good care of her. Always smiling in spite of the pain. Not wanting to complain. I could only stay a few days past the surgery due to a prior commitment. But then I missed my flight home on October 31st! Long story...my fault. I spent Halloween sitting with Mom in the hospital which was much better anyways. Made the flight the next morning though! Got home on Sunday, November 1st and 6 hours later, 3 of my girlfriends and I hit the road to drive six hours to Destin Florida for our annual Ladies Getaway.
My four days in Destin were great on friendship but frustrating with hospital calls to doctors and Lynn plus arguing with a doctor about her rash decision to transfer my Mom to a nursing home/rehab Monday...way too soon. Mom needed blood transfusions that same day and she'd had this onset of nausea/vomiting that had begun the day before but which wasn't eliminated yet so still not sure if it was a side effect of a med...or something else. Ugh!!! So hard not being there and arguing over the phone! Being nose to nose is much more effective. End result...the hospital discharged and transferred my Mom to a nursing home/rehab place. The discharge only lasted 2 days. Back to the E.R....and readmitted with aspiration pneumonia and a bowel obstruction before my trip to Destin was even over! Plus, getting up with the hospital nurses via phone was impossible! Frustratingly impossible. And dang it for being right about it not being safe to discharge her. Though it's true that she could have aspirated within the hospital even if she had stayed. But they would have figured out the bowel obstruction quickly had she stayed.
So...enroute home Thursday while at a lunch stop at waffle house... I booked a flight... on my phone! Never done that before! God was so in it. We were close to Tallahassee by then and no flights were available that day or even the next from the regional airport in Savannah so I figured out it was easy...and best...to just do a little ol quickie detour as we headed through Jacksonville, FL to their airport. Booked the flight and my understanding and supportive girlfriends dropped me off there and drove my car the rest of the way home to Savannah. Even though it was booked with the international airports of JAX and LAX, it worked. I think God hid a smile when I asked His help because...I WAS already packed (with the suitcase I'd taken with me to Destin)...as He knew I would be. And that I'd actually be going right through Jacksonville (e.g.: JAX airport) on our way home. He is good. Gotta give it to the Lord.
And I was so glad I got there when I did.
After my plane landed at LAX, I grabbed the rental car (again gotten on my phone while in the airport) and drove the 4 hours to the hospital in San Luis Obispo. Got there at 5:00... in the morning! But yay...finally was able to talk to a nurse! Rather than wake everyone by going directly to Mom's house in Morro Bay, I just stayed at the hospital. Mom was awake and...so totally knew me. Except for one time later that day...when I had to remind her who I was and that I was her "favorite" ;0. Of course, that was also in front of her real fave, Melinda...who laughed but that was immediately quelled when my Mom actually gave her this same look of suspicion she'd given me and said she didn't know who she was either! I (actually quite gleefully) shouted across Mom's bed, "Ha! Take THAT oh favorite one!", And we both dissolved into laughter which actually brought back the spark of recognition in my Mom's eyes. And bamm, Mom was back with us. But this lapse of knowing who we were only happened once this visit.
I was actually relieved and a bit surprised at how totally clear Mom was for both of my visits since breaking her hip. Her dementia and confusion was only mild. Flaring here and there but not too much. Unusual (here is when my medical background kicks in) given the multiple changes in surroundings, anesthesia and pain meds.
Watching as my lovely and sweet Mom, thoughout my first visit (right after she had her hip surgery)...tried SO hard to do everything that P.T. and the nurses and us had told her she needed to do to get well was painfully and adorably impressive. Turn. Reposition. Let them help her get out of bed and stand. Eat. Throughout all of it she really really pushed herself to try to do everything they asked of her and we told her she needed to do to get well. She was so brave and such a trooper...despite ongoing pain in her right knee, surgical pain in her left hip and 84 years of frailty compounded by anemia. I admire her courage and her efforts so very much. Made me very proud.
And it made me reflect on how she'd had so many surgeries when I was quite young...and yet...she'd never appeared to me "sick". I only knew she'd had them 'cause we kids would all be shipped off to live with various family and friends for a week here, a week there. Then...repeat. And...again, repeat. This happened several times growing up. But when we returned home after our "vacations", it was always to life as usual except once...when my Dad said my Mom was trying to sleep and to keep the noise down as we played handball against our garage door in the driveway. I must've been about 8. So I don't think I ever fully realized what my Mom had gone through sick and surgically-wise when younger. Even though she'd told us (when we were older) that she'd lost a lot of her colon from surgeries for diverticulosis, and about losing the baby (my youngest brother) and, later, having to have a hysterectomy. She'd had a smash up of surgeries in a relatively short span of time but I was young. Didn't even realize what was going on. So...I never gave my Mom credit for the inner strength she possessed to go through all of that, and still...never let it impact the four of us kids. My Mom was a terribly strong person....inside. She also lost my Dad at age 48, and even found my neighbor dead and did CPR and dealt with all that when I was in middle school. I'm embarrassed I never truly recognized the core of inner strength she had inside of her....till now. I just saw her and loved her and knew her as my Mom.
Which is another reason it hurt much during Mom's hospitalizations and hospice stays to recognize that... Mom was 'surprised' she was dying! Even when she was told we were starting her on hospice, there would be these surprised and sort of "considering" expressions that would flit across her face. Especially when I would ask again things like, "are you okay with Jesus?" and the ones about did she want everything done? Expressions blending surprise and unbelief mixed with "why is my daughter asking me this now? & "is this really happening?"
I especially recall the one where Mom had just the oddest expression as I had to explain to her that she wasn't recovering well...and that we needed to make sure and be sure...that she did NOT want everything done? (She'd always told us she never ever wanted even surgery again in her life, definitely not tubes, not nursing homes, not any of it...but we had to do the hip surgery as no one can just die in pain from a broken hip and lying immobile! And we had so hoped she'd recover even though it had been pretty clear with physical therapy that she wouldn't be able to return to assisted living and was doomed to a nursing home life. So I asked, again, this time in front of her nurse if she truly did understand she was really really sick...and did she want us to have them do surgery and everything to keep her alive? It was blissfully, and at the same time painfully, reassuring to hear her say so clearly this slow, enunciated, "No".
Yet, I don't think Mom truly believed she was so bad off she was actually dying. Maybe it was because she had tried so hard. So hard to do everything we told her to do! But then the throwing up had begun. The inability to keep anything down. And the diagnosis of aspiration pneumonia and a bowel obstruction. The docs told us she wasn't even a candidate for surgery. So it was really hard. Explaining it to Mom. Trying to make sure Mom was okay with the decision to stop trying. Did she understand what that mean't? Trying not to scare her by making it "too" clear ...but still making it clear "enough". Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Pain Pain hurt hurt. Sigh and Ugh again.
I read the gospel of John out loud. Had been reading it myself so just mentioned to Mom that I had been and asking if she minded if I did so at her bedside and would she like to hear it too? As I told her...it was super good! And I laughed with her that she probably hadn't even heard the bible read in about 40 plus years or more. I remember Mom nodding it was okay for me to read it. And over the next 2 days, I did...getting interrupted by nurses and docs along the way but when I would ask Mom if it was okay for me to resume reading it...she'd nod. Once (after we had hit some of the really exciting parts just before getting interrupted "again")...and I asked...she not only nodded but she nodded vigorously!! That warmed my heart. It's one of the memories I'll treasure. And the one where I asked Mom if she believed all I was reading and if she was good with Jesus as her Lord and God...and she said, "yes".
Going to church, reading the bible and having anything to do really with God and Christianity had been pretty much not much since my early childhood with my Mom. And my stepdad...told me he doesn't want to know what is in the bible because he feels its best to believe that all beliefs are right...not just one. So he was definitely not into hearing a bunch of "stuff about Jesus".
The day we transferred Mom from the hospital and back to her old room at the assisted living (which also is a hospice provider) all of us kids and Wayne, my stepdad, were able to know we were there. A good thing. But none of the others felt up to staying the night with Mom. When it was finally just Pop and I, I told him I was going to read some of the Psalms from the bible to Mom. Wayne hurriedly got up and said he was going to head on home. He agreed not to be called if Mom died in the night since driving at night is not safe and he was so tired and frail....it was a good decision. They were/are both 84 years old. Plus Wayne has a bad heart. We "kids" had tried to get him to go home earlier as we didn't think waiting through the night at her bedside in case she died that night was at all good for his heart or him. He was so frail and crying already.
None of my sibs wanted to stay with Mom overnight...other than me. As there was a chance this could be drawn out for days or it could be hours. Cyndie and Dan just made it to Morro Bay earlier that evening and had already left for their hotel and dinner as they "didn't want to stay". They felt they'd said their good-byes. Mom and Lynn were sooooo close that Mom dying was literally tearing up Melinda's heart. So Lynn and Scott headed down the street together as they both felt it was too hard to stay...though Scott said he would return later that evening.
So...I was alone at Mom's bedside. I sang and read some psalms and prayed out loud for her, for myself. At one point I told God out loud that, in case and IF Mom wanted it verbalized and could hear me...I would be her proxy prayer person (since she could no longer talk and was unconscious) and asked His forgiveness for all the myriad and many sins she and I have done in our lives. And then, right after that prayer...I was so tired. I closed the Bible. Wanted just to shut my eyes and sleep. I told Mom, "I'm so tired Mom, I'm gonna stop. I'm gonna sleep right here". And I arranged a stool for my feet, slipped my hand into hers again and closed my eyes. And she stopped breathing.
I was like....What! Now!!! What!! OMGosh! Really Mom?! REALLY?! SHOOT! Jumping up and frantically calling (no answer) and then texting first Lynn, then Scott! Mom started taking a few ragged, irregular breaths but I so needed them to know this was actually "IT". And to get back here... fast!
They did. Mom had stopped even the rare breath in the short time before they arrived at the door to her room. The little assisted living caretaker tried to poke his head timidly into the room to behind them (surprised I'm sure as I hadn't even bothered to tell the employees of the home). He ran off to call in the hospice nurse. By then I was back in my chair with my feet up but with my hand gently on Mom's pulse. She still had one. Which left the three of us at Mom's bedside. Quiet. Loving. Thankful to be there as Mom's spirit slipped out of that room and into heaven and the Lords arms. It was actually peacefully beautiful. And now a memory we three will treasure.
The remaining week was a blur of cleaning, calls, ashes, stuff. Oh...and my birthday. First one in at least 3 decades that was spent with my original family and in California. But...of the past few weeks...patient advocacy, dealing with the doctors and nurses, then dealing with making and going through hospice arrangements as well as the abruptness of going from recovery to ...now dying... was simply like holding up a mirror again to life two years ago with Mike dying.
But now...I'm back home. Again. Snuggled up in my down and tempurpedic. It's over.
Like it was after Mike died..the initial peace is wearing off. I don't think it will go fully away. Not like it did with Mike. Besides, I think shock is often mistaken for peace. I have no anger at God. Mom was at a point in her life where there is actually blessing to be found in the dying. Plus...she knew God and is in heaven so in that way...it's similar to Mike in being joyful for that part. I don't see bargaining or serious depression to be an issue I'll have to deal with either. I disagree with the teaching that there's those "specific" stages. I think those emotions exist but you may not have every one of them, or maybe you will but in a different order and back and forth and back and forth along with a whole bunch of "other emotions" coming into play as well. So..I don't think the stages of grief really help....at least not the person going through grief. Maybe the people who've never really experienced grief since they will "usually" see at least some and maybe all of these "standard stage emotions" in those who are experiencing it. Maybe that is helpful...to them. But after losing first my Dad, the baby, friends, other relatives, Mike and now my Mom....nope. emotions are not just those and terribly vary in depth and intensity and frequency and patterns and just in everything...depending on the person, relationship, age and such.
So I will label where I am right now as simply ...Missing her. I miss the knowledge and fact of Mom being physically here...on this earth...in Morro Bay...whenever I wanted to call and talk with her. Missing her advice. Missing her being alive. Missing Mom talking with me...even though it was usually on the phone. Missing my Mom looking up, seeing me over her bed in the mornings when I would visit her in Morro Bay or at Garden House (the assisted care) and even when I'd visit her in the hospital...and seeing that massive smile start. And her hand reach up to caress my cheek. Missing all that.
Mom dying has affected my grief over Mike too! I have woken up several days in a row now with the first thought being... "Oh, Mom". Not the usual "Oh, Mike" thought. Wow. Losing Mom has pushed itself into the forefront of both my conscious and subconscious. Hmmm. I think by doing this, losing Mom has actually pushed me further along in letting go more of my grief and sadness with Mike. And I feel I am further along in being able to get on with my 'post-Michael' life.
Plus...I ran into a divorcee the other day who shared how her self-esteem had plummeted because of being rejected by her husband. And now, possibly by the boyfriend since the divorce. Wow. I have no self-esteem or rejection issues to handle with Mike. This is good! She is in a way different emotional state than I am in dealing with so many many different emotional issues...and she is 5 year post divorce! So....wow.
And then...I heard a christmas song on the radio yesterday. Flipping through channels and landing on The River with Delilah. Normally I hate to hear christmas songs till at least after Thanksgiving. And since Mikes death...I hated to hear christmas songs period! Last two christmases were so painful. But...the song didn't hurt! It felt enjoyable to hear it! I sat there and listened to the entire song without changing the channel and it felt good. This is so cool.
I think this year is the year I will finally be able to ENJOY Christmas again. Really enjoy it! Yay!!!!!! Actually getting excited about Christmas for the first time in 3 years. Good.
So where am I right now? I am grieving and missing my Mom. But my grief is so not the same as what I experienced with losing Michael. It's much more peaceful and less intense. More thought provoking than anything else...as this blog post bears witness! :).
And I am excited to realize as I type this that the enjoyment of Christmas and the closeness to my Lord and God....have only been strengthened through the past two and a half years since Mike...and two and half weeks since Mom.
I am in a good place.
