Letting go

This mourning

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I was supposed to be sailing around the Caribbean with my husband and new friends this week. We were invited several months back, but declined due to my mother-in-law’s failing health.

I should’ve been dark tanned, bikini clad, beach bumming, having the time of my life with a boat drink in hand. I could really use a break right now.

Instead, I can’t seem to escape the four walls of my mind. It has been one of the roughest weeks in years. I can’t wait for tomorrow to come so this week will finally be over. Wiped away.

Today marks the 9th anniversary of my Aunt Grace passing away. It is also Darryl’s first wedding anniversary without his wife that he buried this week.

I can’t seem to escape the loss and sadness that surrounds me.

The week has been rough enough after burying my mother-in-law and driving 18 hours.

The rest of the week has not been much better.

Yesterday started with an unexpected trip to the doctor’s office. My son has another sore throat and thought he was exposed to strep again. He is currently on antibiotics to clear up an intestinal bacteria he picked up from his grandma at the nursing home while on antibiotics for strep.

We were faced with the prospect of him needing to be treated with an additional antibiotic. If we treated the strep, then the other bacteria could get worse. If we didn’t treat the strep, other family members could catch it making them vulnerable to a worse bug, the intestinal bacteria.

Thankfully, the strep test came back negative. It relieved a lot of my stress, but for the first few hours of my day I was very anxious. I awoke before my alarm went off with this growing paranoia that I accidentally gave my son something with alcohol in it which could make him violently ill on the medication. I was worried when I gave him cough drops, but it was cough syrup I needed to avoid. I also have this strange paranoia that I am going to take his medication by mistake. I am going insane!

After the doctor’s visit, I went to work and faced wave after wave of problems. Things were really busy and stressful. I felt I had to get away for awhile or else I would go nuts. I came home for an extended lunch and cleaned my house from top to bottom. Maybe I am crazy?!?

When I got home from work, Angel called to tell me that she broke up with Mitch her boyfriend of almost 3 1/2 years. I felt another loss. We really like Mitch and think he is a great guy. We have to break up with him too. Angel felt like Mitch wasn’t very supportive to her when her grandma died.

Then I spent the evening with my youngest daughter who says she hates me. She said that I don’t care about her. She said that she wished she was never born. Her despair and anger towards me is almost more than I can handle. She has been having a hard time since her grandma was really sick and dying.

What can I say?? Sometimes life does suck.

It’s strange, although Martha has passed the rumbles of her existence are still felt. I feel it in the sickness my son got from her. I feel it in the ending of a long term relationship. I feel it in Arabella’s anger and sadness.

When will life be fun again? When will we laugh and mean it? When will this weight be lifted?

Oh, this mourning…

The funeral

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The last time we spoke, I was feeling really overwhelmed. My mother-in-law just passed away. My kids were sick. Really, what else could go wrong?

I was trying really hard to be supportive of my family by doing whatever I could to cheer them up. It was the hug while crying. I found their feelings of anger and despair incredibly hard to deal with.

Saturday after posting, I took my daughter Arabella shopping to get a dress for her grandma’s funeral. We also went to get our nails done. I never took her in to get a manicure before and thought that it might bring her a little joy. She was having a hard time with a lot of tears and anger.

While I was running errands with my daughter, the doctor’s office was trying to get a hold of me about my son’s test results. I had to take him to the doctor on Friday instead of going along to plan the funeral. A few weeks ago, my son was on antibiotics for Strep while visiting his grandma in the nursing home a lot. With Martha’s weakened immune system, she came down with an intestinal bacteria that my son ended up contracting while on antibiotics which weakened his immune system. I’ll save you all of the gory details, but it is treatable with anther round of antibiotics.

While I was running around with my daughter, the doctor’s office tried calling me twice. I didn’t hear the phone ring and ended up carrying the phone in my hand while trying on dresses. When they finally got a hold of me, they chastised me saying something like a good parent stays by the phone while expecting a call from the doctor’s office. I wanted to say, “Hey lady, we have been through hell the last couple of days and I am running errands to prepare for his grandma’s funeral”. Instead, I said nothing and it added to my stress. Mark me down in your file as a bad parent, whatever…You have no idea..

Sunday Paul and I spent 8 hours driving to pick up our daughter from college. When we last spoke, she was out of state on tour with her choir. She was having a hard time hearing the news of her grandma’s loss then came down with the stomach flu the next day. I had envisioned her puking all the way home, but thankfully her fever was gone and she was feeling better when we picked her up.

Paul and I had plenty of time to talk on the way. He said that there was nothing out there that prepared him for his mother’s terminal cancer diagnosis. In the next couple of days, I am going to write something about what to expect having gone through it before I forget.

The funeral was on Monday. It was surprising how nice Martha looked. For some reason, that made things a little easier. The pastor gave a really touching sermon. He said that one time Martha heard that he was sick and said that she was praying for him. He said how humbling it was for someone with terminal cancer to be praying for someone with a cold. That was how she was. Then we buried Martha. It just didn’t seem real to me. I spent the last couple of days in a tunnel vision haze unable to think.

Then we went back to Darryl’s house with family to go through Martha’s belongings. Darryl’s sister thanked us for looking out for Darryl. We are not sure what will happen next since Darryl is Paul’s step dad. Darryl doesn’t have any family in the area and we will try to include him in our life as long as he wants to. We met his siblings for the first time at the funeral.

Then yesterday we drove Angel back to college. The real life realization was starting to sink in. Angel had a lot of homework to catch up on from being on tour and an unexpected trip home for the funeral. Paul and I were stressing about problems at work. Paul had a public speaking engagement today for work with over 100 people attending. That is an incredible amount of pressure.

I broke down on the way home. I felt like I was putting my feelings on hold to support everyone else. This time I cried. I mourned. (Not to mention being crazy from not being able to write or exercise).

We returned home last night utterly emotionally and physically exhausted from 18 total hours of driving with a funeral sandwiched in between that.

Every day it has been getting a little bit easier to deal with..

Time, slipping away

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Despite our best efforts, we didn’t make it on time.

Yesterday morning Darryl and Paul went to the nursing home to be with Martha. They each held her hand and spoke of what to do next. The nurse came in and said that she had 3 days left if they left her IV in and about 24 hours if they took it out.

They called Martha’s remaining siblings and family in for a final visit last night and decided to keep the IV in until the family came for one last visit. Then Paul and Darryl left to tie up some things at work intending to return later.

The kids were on their way home early from school and we were going to leave once they got home.

Paul received the call while we were still at work that his mother had passed moments before we were ready to leave.

We thought we would have more time.

When we got to the nursing home we went into her room and said our final good byes. It seemed so surreal. I tricked my mind into thinking she was still with us. Martha looked like she was asleep.

We had a little good bye service in the nursing home chapel.

While this was all happening, my son became seriously ill (I think he will be okay now). It was horrible timing. I was debating whether or not to take him to the ER.

I felt terrible ignoring the family to deal with another crisis.

It was one of the worst days of my life.

We almost got into two car accidents. Someone came close to sideswiping me and someone pulled out right in front of us. Then on the way home I called the doctor’s office, almost hit a fox all while driving on empty.

I felt like I was on empty too.

It was late when we finally got home.

I made a doctor’s appointment for my son first thing this morning.

I feel so sad.

My family is having a hard time dealing with this. My husband feels so lost without his mother. He said he misses her so terribly much already.

This weekend we will be picking our daughter up from college for the funeral. She is on tour right now with the music department. She was going to surprise her grandma by having the choir sing her a song, but there wasn’t enough time.

I had to stop myself from crying at the doctor’s office this morning.

I feel so confused. I’m forgetting the details which rarely happens to me. I feel like I am running on auto pilot without thinking.

I missed planning the funeral arrangements because I was at the doctor’s office.

Then I needed to stop for groceries. We have nothing to eat in the house. We have been making the hour and a half round trip to see Martha almost every day this week. There hasn’t been time to take care of all the little things.

At the store, I saw a daughter helping her elderly father shop. I almost started crying again.

This has been so emotionally and physically exhausting. We haven’t been sleeping well.

At least Paul had the chance to say good bye. Last week, he had the opportunity to visit his mother alone. He told her he loved her, that she was a good mother, and that he appreciated the sacrifices she made for him.

He said it was one of the hardest things that he has ever done, but it was a very special moment.

He wanted to put it off, thinking that he had more time.

But time has a way of slipping away faster than we can keep our hands on it.

 

 

 

Family time

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We haven’t been stopping to see the birds anymore..

Since we last talked, we have been to the nursing home twice.

The first visit was the hardest. Martha drifted in and out of sleep. When we talked to her, she responded with answers that didn’t make much sense. She seemed restless.

The absolute hardest part that night was leaving. When we told Martha we were leaving her eyes snapped open and she gave us the saddest most terrorized look that will forever haunt me.

I have been trying to get Martha’s last look out of my head but I can’t seem to do that. It was like she was pleading with us to stay. When I start to forget, something reminds me. Yesterday I was on the way to the gym and I saw a van with her nursing home’s name plastered on the side.

If I couldn’t fix things with my mind, I wanted to fix things with my might. After the nursing home reminder, I felt so angry. As I was working out, I imagined that I was taking cancer into a dark alley and kicking the living shit out of it.

So far I have found that fighting and fixing hasn’t helped anyone cope but myself. It just gives me a false sense of control over a situation I have no control over.

Last night’s visit was much more peaceful. Martha did not wake up at all. She seemed totally oblivious of our presence. We still spoke to her and played songs of Angel singing. I feel bad because Angel is really busy at college right now. She will not be able to make the 5 hour drive to come out to say good bye. She doesn’t even have a car there. But we were able to face time her while her grandma was still up and talking.

We are hanging in there, but it hasn’t been easy..

Since this original draft, we received word that it is time to call in the family. Tonight after the final good byes, they are going to remove her IV. It won’t be much longer after that.

A lot of praying, without a prayer

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Playing the waiting game is never the fun and games it sounds like.

Yesterday my mom and Paul’s mom had doctor appointments.

As expected, my mom had the best news. The doctor wasn’t sure if she has glaucoma. She will have to do more waiting. But she does have cataracts and needs surgery.

My mom has always been the best driver that I ever knew, up until recently that is. I noticed little changes, like pulling out in front of traffic when she really didn’t have enough time or showing greater than necessary hesitation.

She is starting to forget little things too. She forgot my sister-in-law’s birthday. She forgot about my daughter’s holiday concerts. I found myself so busy at work that I didn’t have time to remind her either. The gradual decline is troubling at times.

My mother-in-law Martha’s decline has been more of a steep descent lately. She wanted to die at home which is not going to happen. She slept during her oncology appointment yesterday. The doctor decided to stop all treatment and keep her at the nursing home. He used words like keeping her comfortable.

I did start writing about two sentences of a eulogy. Oh, I already wrote it. I wrote it in my head while I was driving, running, and trying to sleep but I can’t seem to write it down on paper.

I started going through the old pictures. I didn’t realize how poor quality they are. The smiling images are not centered, blurry, or dark more often than not. I have gotten used to taking 50 images of the same event and deleting the ones that are not perfect. It’s not like the good old days where we took one or two pictures in an effort not to waste film and having them all turn out bad. I can’t part with the less than perfect images because that is all I have left besides the fading memories.

I feel depressed. Tomorrow is the anniversary of my grandma’s death, next week is the anniversary of the death of Aunt Grace. The despair of death and dying is surrounding me. It makes me feel nostalgic and melancholy on these bleak days of midwinter. This is the month that I lost the most loved ones and another will soon be added to the list.

We last visited Martha at the nursing home on Sunday. How I hate it there. I wondered how the young employees could work there day in and out without pondering their future fate. It seems like a nice place. I haven’t seen anyone mistreated.

What I hate is the joy that is robbed from having no hope. There is no hope that she is going to get better. There is no hope that her life will ever be the same. The despair of not having any hope left is emotionally draining. There is nothing we can do about it. Every time we see her, she is getting worse.

I have always clung to hope in the darkest times, but there isn’t a prayer although there is a lot of praying.

It was hard seeing Martha on Sunday. When we got there, she was laying in an uncomfortable position. We worked together to move her body. I lifted her shoulder while supporting her head. Her words came out in a mumbled whisper. She pointed and we guessed what was being said. She kept saying that her mouth was dry but she didn’t want to drink. She rummaged through her purse for aspirin although she just got pain medicine. She faded in and out of sleep.

Before we leave, we always take her for a walk to see the birds. The nurse carried her into a wheelchair and hooked her up to her portable oxygen tank. Paul pushed the wheelchair as I walked alongside with the IV. You would think that it would be easy to push the IV along but it rolled along like a shopping cart with a messed up wheel. I swerved around as I tried to avoid obstacles trying not rip or twist up her cords that were everywhere.

The birds flitted about in a relaxed manner. The residents spoke of the birds. They spoke of a man that comes around to clip the birds nails and clean out the cages. They spoke of this with great importance. They weren’t in a hurry, they were content to sit and watch the birds like it was the most important thing in the world.

It seemed like a mystery to me. The residents didn’t seem worried or to live in the hustle bustle world of deadlines and time constraints like most of us do, yet they have less time..

Tonight Paul and I will visit Martha. Darryl said that her condition has deteriorated considerably since our visit two days ago. We sense the urgency and are nervous when we hear the phone ring.

It could be any time now..

 

 

 

Good note endings

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For me, it is the anticipation of an event that causes excitement, apprehension, or foreboding. The planning of a vacation. Waiting for a special day. Saying good bye..

It is not always a bad thing to know that your loved one is dying. I think of a friend whose mother died unexpectedly right after an argument. We have been given this special time to mend relationships, to end things on a good note..

Friday night we took Angel to say good bye to her grandma before leaving for college. Friday my son Alex came down with strep, the second in our household. I didn’t want Angel to leave without saying good bye to her grandma. I admit I was worried that although Paul, Angel, and I weren’t symptomatic that we could be carriers of strep into a nursing home full of vulnerable people. It wasn’t a good feeling. I asked the nurse and pharmacist, but they didn’t give me a straight answer. We decided to go anyway, since this would probably be Angel’s final visit with her grandma.

We arrived at the nursing home late on Friday night. It was a big complex and we didn’t know where to go. The outside doors were locked and we ended up walking around outside in the bitter cold on icy sidewalks trying to find a way in. I felt exhausted and cold. I was so tired that I didn’t want to be there, but it wasn’t about me.

We were finally able to find the main entrance. It was warm, empty, and inviting. There was a video showing a happy elderly couple entering their new home. It pleasantly reminded me of a time share commercial. We were the only visitors there on a Friday night, with the exception of my mother-in-law’s husband Darryl.

It was quiet there. The employees talked about when they were going to take their cigarette breaks. Curious elderly people wandered over to Martha’s room to see the excitement of visitors on a Friday night.

Martha was in her bed hooked up to oxygen. She looked good. Darryl said that his mother was in the nursing home now because she can no longer take care of herself. The conversation got too close to the truth of Martha’s situation. We talked of funerals that we attended together of other family members and Darryl’s moms declining health.

Martha wondered why she was in the nursing home like her husband’s mother. She told us that she was going home soon. She said that they were going to start her on Chemo all over again. She was so convinced of this that I almost believed her. I wanted to.

Martha told us how great Darryl has been to her all of these years. She said that her only regret was that she didn’t meet Darryl sooner. She wished she could have given Paul a father when he was a child. Martha held Darryl’s hand and told him how much she loved and appreciated having him in her life.

When it was time to go, Angel sang a prayer. It was very peaceful and calming. There weren’t any tears or sad good byes like I was expecting.

Our visit ended on a good note..

Saying good bye?

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I have often wondered why we say the words good bye. What is ever good about parting with someone that you care about?

This morning I said good bye to Angel as she left to go back to college. I won’t be seeing her again until March.

Last night Angel said good bye to her grandma, probably for the last time.

It was a rough week. Darryl called earlier this week very distraught. The doctor told him that Martha was never going to go back home again. She was going to be transferred from the hospital into a nursing home. They thought that she was going to beat this terminal stage 4 cancer thing. It is hard to blame them for feeling that way as they don’t have the internet at home and we are all new to this stage 4 cancer thing.

Living with her day to day, I’m sure that Darryl didn’t see how the cancer eroded her body like we did. Losing 100 lbs isn’t as noticeable if you lose it 1 lb a day. It broke Paul’s heart to see his step-dad break down and start talking about final wishes and funeral arrangements. We knew we had to arrange one last visit with Angel and her grandma before she left.

The night that Darryl called, Paul cried. Before all of this, in the 20+ years I’ve known Paul, he has only cried a handful of times. Mainly when his grandma, who helped raise him, died. Dealing with his mother dying has brought out a whole new range of emotions, some of them not very good. I want to fix things, but I can’t.

Sometimes I worry about Paul. He takes on too much responsibility. He is a great leader and everyone wants his help on this board, committee, or that. I find that most people care more about what he can do for them instead of him.

Besides Paul and my friend Cindy (who keeps calling and asking how I am doing), I have been pushing everyone in my life away. When things get difficult I shut everyone out. No personal Facebook statuses for me. I don’t want anyone to know. It surprises me that I even talk to you. Sorry, no offense, I’m sure you are a great person.

Instead of dealing with my emotions, I put more things on my plate. No, not food, if I’m really stressed I barely eat. Working long hours…yes…trying out for a part in the play…yes…signing up for an 18 mile trail run…yes…another marathon…yes, yes, yes….a half iron…yes, yes, oh yes!

Keeping very busy has always been a tactic of mine.

I’m not sure I can keep going at this pace. But I am afraid. If I stop juggling all of these busyness balls, I will surely drown.

I will keep going. I am determined to persevere. And I am going to keep writing (take you along on this journey with me)! Lucky you! XOXXO

 

 

A flame’s last few flickers 

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Yesterday I spent the evening in the ICU.

My mother-in-law Martha collapsed on her way to her doctor appointment. An elderly friend of Martha was taking her to her appointment, pulled over when Martha said she was going to be sick, and couldn’t get her back in the car.

The rescue squad transported her to the nearest hospital where they had no room in their ICU. Then they transported her to a hospital a couple of hours away. This was good news for us because Martha was 20 minutes away versus 2 hours away. 

We drove in nervous silence to the hospital. It was a long, windy, and bitterly cold day. It seemed like I had to park miles away from the door. The sharp winds whipped my face and stung. I ran to get in as fast as I could, but I really didn’t want to go. I was afraid of what I would find. I was afraid of how I might respond.

We searched for a long time down empty corridors for Martha’s room. We didn’t know where to go or what was happening. We weren’t sure what to expect. We had many questions and no answers.

We finally found the ICU. Only 2 visitors were allowed at a time. Paul and Angel went in first. While we were waiting, Martha’s husband Darryl arrived. Angel came out crying. My other 2 children went in. Angel sat on my lap and I held her in my arms while she cried. 

Darryl and I were the last ones to enter. Paul helped me tie on my gown and I put latex gloves on as was ICU protocol. Then I saw Martha. She was so weak, sick, and fragile looking. She asked me if I was okay since I looked so tired. Her concern for me was strangely touching as she was the one in the hospital bed hooked up to machines. She was getting a blood transfusion and had a couple more bags being emptied into her body. She had to sign a consent form but couldn’t quite remember how to spell her name. 

She told me that if she didn’t make it home, I should go through her items with the girls and take what I wanted even though she said she doesn’t have much. I told her I would.

It was all very beautiful and ugly at the same time. All of our previous issues faded away into the past. Yet I felt like I was in the way of the nurse. I didn’t know what to do. There was nothing I could do. Nothing but be there for her as her light starts to fade during her flame’s last few flickers.  

Soon our brief time together came to an end. I tore off my gown and threw it in the garbage along with my gloves. I washed my hands in the the sink. Martha told me that she loved me. I told her that I loved her back. 

After a long glance, I walked away and didn’t look back.     

On a day like today

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It happened on a cold December day like today.

It happened to a woman my age who had children the ages of some of my children.

I wonder what it would be like..to find out that I was pregnant unexpectedly. She was worried that her husband would be upset when she suspected. She told my mother that.

Her oldest child was already married and out of the house. Her youngest child was 8.

For a couple of months, her oldest child and her were pregnant at the same time.

It was in December many decades ago that her last child, a healthy baby girl was born.

My mom who was the second oldest, called her older sister the day after the baby was born.

“She’s dead”, my mom said. “The baby?”, asked her sister. “No, mom”.

Many decades, years, minutes, and seconds have passed since that cold December day. The oldest daughter has already passed away. Most of my aunts and uncles are reaching retirement age. But I still see them long for the mother that left them too soon. When they get together they still read the old letters she wrote. Tales of what was made for dinner the evening before. Stories about nothing important that makes the siblings laugh and cry.

I feel very thankful that I have had my mother in my life so long.

Paul and I are now approaching the loss of our first parent. It really forces us to face death. I thought about it a lot over the trip to Door County last month with my mother and a few of her siblings, especially when they spoke of the loss of their mother. (The picture above is of my mom and her sister).

My mother’s youngest brother, the 8 year old boy at the time of his mother’s death, said in Door County that some of his favorite movies today are the ones that his mother took him to see right before she died. It was really touching.

My oldest uncle was 16 when his mom passed away. I have a 16 year old son. He would be mortified if I told him I was pregnant. It is the age that most teenage boys don’t want anything to do with their mother. I suspect that my uncle felt the same way and felt guilty for wanting to separate from his mother especially after she passed away unexpectedly. He is currently going through a nasty divorce from a woman that I knew for my whole life to be my aunt. At this hard time, he yearns for his mother so much that he has been visiting a medium just to try to talk to her again. It is terribly sad.

My mother said to me many times growing up that she wished her mother was there. She knew that her mother would have helped her raise an autistic child.

I never met my grandma. I have only seen the impact she has had on her children. From this, I know that she was a good person.

I am so blessed to have my mother in my life for this long..

18. The most difficult thing to forgive

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Day 18: What has been the most difficult thing you have had to forgive?

First of all, I don’t like this question. Thing? Really?? I have people to forgive, but not necessarily a ‘thing’. These questions are really starting to make me feel edgy. Some are just downright stupid. I mean, who really cares about my daily routine?? I will finish what I started, but I might change things a bit.

I am going to change this questions to…Who has been the most difficult person to forgive? 

The long hard thought out answer to that question is ME. Yes, me!

I have to forgive myself. For all the stupid things I have done. And even for the things that I didn’t do that I should’ve done. The hardest thing about making mistakes is the inability to go back in time and make the right decision. The regret over making the wrong choice or taking the wrong fork in the road. 

When I was younger, I used to worry and ruminate over mistakes. I used to berate myself for not living up to my expectations of perfection. I tried harder to make up for the times I didn’t try hard enough.

Now that I am older, I don’t think I am any easier on myself. But I realized as I aged that there was nothing I could do to change things that happened in the past. I had to move on or go absolutely crazy from it. I had to forgive myself…let it all go…learn from the experience…and move on…

Even though I strive for perfection, I cannot attain it….I realize that now…only God is perfect….so I can hand it all over to Him and He can figure the rest out…