2 weeks

Yesterday has been two weeks since my Mom passed away. It is hard to write about because I really don't know where to begin. I have written about my mom here and here. She hadn't been the Mom I knew for a while but she was still the most important woman in my life. Her passing was a sad and terribly hard thing to see but was also a beautiful blessing.

Mom was back in the hospital for pneumonia yet again. At first I couldn't bring myself to go see her. As selfish as this sounds, I did not want to see my mom so sick again. But then on April 12th (my birthday) I just had to go see her. The nurses had given her some medication that made her sleep. My understanding is what they had given her was to help her not struggle to breath so much but it also knocked her out. I spent an hour or more just talking to her, holding her hand and crying. I wanted her to know that it was ok to let go, to go to heaven where she would not be in pain and with her sisters, mom and dad, and my brother Gary.

When I left the hospital I really lost it. No more holding it together. I talked to my sister Gia and really did not know what to say. Was Mom dying? Should she come home? I really didn't have the answers but I knew I was scared.

The next day (Tuesday, April 13th) I talk to Gia in the morning. She had talked to the palliative care nurse who suggested she get home as soon as possible. I then get a sitter and head up to the hospital. Mom was struggling to breath and couldn't stay awake but she was talking and asking for water. Later that day, after talking to the palliative care nurse, we decide to stop the antibiotics and IV fluids and move her to the suite. We knew it was only a matter of days, so we make plans for my other siblings to get up to the hospital the next day to see her. I head home to spend some much needed mental health time with my boys. I think I was gone 2 to 3 hours.

When I get back to the hospital and walk into the suite, I knew it was going to happen sooner. Mom had really declined in those 3 hours. Her breathing had changed and she couldn't wake up. One of the nurses told my sister-in-law that she would be surprised if she made it though the night. Something I already knew.

We take turns sitting with her, holding her hands, rubbing her hair, and telling her its ok to let go, to stop fighting.

My sister Ellen and I are sitting on either side of her. I couldn't leave her side and let go of her hand. The tears flow again and Ellen asks "Is this too hard on you?" I answer through falling tears "Yes". But I couldn't leave. It was too hard but I wouldn't have it any other way.

Right around 8:00 pm her breathing really changes. I can't remember if I said it out loud or just in my head "This is it...she is going!" All the others (Brenda, Ronny, Gia and Kathi) join Ellen and I at her side. The next few minutes she takes her last breaths. After a couple of last gasps, that surprised and scared us, Mom took her last breath and then this peace comes over her. It was the worst moment of my life but also the most blessed moment. I cried out "She's gone!" and break down into a puddle of tears (as did everyone else). At that moment God came and took Moms hand to guide her to heaven. The peace that came over her face was indescribable. It was beautiful.

Through tears and cries we all call loved ones that need to be told. My husband and my niece Kate come right up. We all sit there in the suite and cry, laugh, hold Mom's hand, tell stories, and work on her obituary. I think we spend about 2 hours in there with Mom and each other. We waited until the funeral home came to get her body. Saying goodbye to her at that moment was just as hard as seeing her die. Thank God, Ray was the one to pick her up. We know he took good care of her.

I could write more about the days that follow but this post is as emotionally draining as I can take right now.

Until I see you again in heaven...I love you Mom!

Mom

Yesterday was emotionally draining. I spent the better part of the day at the ER with my mom. Not that it was physically demanding, really I was just sitting there, but to see her so old and frail, tired and worn out, it was just another reality that my wonderful mom is passing away.

My sister called to tell me Mom was transferred from the nursing home to the ER. She couldn't make it up there and was worried that they might put her on a ventilator (something my Mom really does not want). Hearing that of course I think that she is very bad off, and I offer to go there to be with Mom and make sure the Drs don't do anything she doesn't want. I get a little teary telling my husband Jonny what is going on but hold it together. All the way to the hospital I am thinking..."this could be it. I could be the one making it possible for my mom to die". From what the nursing home had said my Mom could not breath and her O2 stats were very low. Of course I was not expecting her to be sitting up in the bed talking to the nurses when I walked in the ER room. Happy that she was...yes...relieved...very! They had her on some oxygen and she was doing very well. After the chest x-ray confirmed that it was pneumonia they gave her a diuretic and she started breathing better and her O2 stats went back up without the oxygen.

After sitting there and watching her Stats for about an hour they decide to send her back to the nursing home...Good. Better for her to be there rather than in the hospital. What made me upset was that the EMT's bring her in and place her back in her bed and no nurse is around to make sure she is all set, in need of anything, or even to help the EMT's (who, by the way, are fantastic!). I came in and my poor mom is wrapped up like a mummy in three blankets and looks at me with her weary eyes and says "I really have to pee!" Do you think I could get a nurse to come to her room? Nope! I rang the bell on her bed and then the little old lady next to her kept asking me to bring her to the bathroom. So, I rang her bell...still nothing...now the both of them are really needing to go to the bathroom. I walk down the hall to the nurses station. Three of them are standing around, chit chatting (about what I am not sure, it could have been a patient). I inform them that 2 ladies have to use the bathroom pretty badly, could we get some help. Instead of one of them coming to help, they look around for a LNA. Is it beneath a RN to bring people to the bathroom?! God I hope they don't think that way, especially working in a nursing home.

Grudges, Guilt and Forgiveness

Once a upon a time in a land...oh screw it my life is no fairytale...Back in my early 20's, Jonny and I had a couple of good friends...hell they were our best friends, more like family. A day did not go by without spending time or speaking to these friends. Haley and Brian were not a couple, although spent some time being a couple, but they were always with Jonny and I. We didn't think of it as weird, strange, it was just us. Brian had dinner with Jonny and I every night, when Jonny did not want to go out with me (dancing, drinking, whatever) Brian would go with me. Haley was my best girl friend, she knew and knows my deepest darkest secrets (as did Brian).

What does all this warm and fuzzy crap have to do with grudges, guilt and forgiveness? Well, just before Jonny and I got married (Brian and Haley were to be in our wedding) the four of us had a falling out. I can't even remember exactly how it started but I remember thinking Haley was too hard to be friends with, and Brian did not want me to try to run his life.

We held this grudge for a long time...I gave birth to Ryan and Haley had Alexis and moved to California. Brian was around town we just never took the step to contact him. Flash forward...Haley called and wanted to get together...I took a deep breath and told her sure come on over. We forgave each other for whatever happened in the past and renewed our friendship. For the rest of the next few years we remained friends but none of us contacted Brian...

Then the unthinkable happens...Brian is in a fatal snowmobile accident...Jonny, Haley and I are shocked to the core...tears flow...guilt rages...it is too late for forgiveness...

We attend the wake and funeral, cry with all of his family and friends. I kneel at his casket and look at what was once one of my best friends...and ask through a water fall of tears for his forgiveness. That was 3 years ago...I (Jonny too) carry guilt of not calling Brian before it was too late. The guilt eats at us and still makes me cry at times. Praying helps a little...I pray a lot over this...the Brian I once knew would have forgiven me long ago...he may have before his death but I will never know.
Why am I going on with this sad story? Because I want others to be spared the guilt of holding grudges...you never know when it will be too late for forgiveness.
Jonny has been making me proud in that department. He has been calling his former friends asking that the grudges be laid to rest. Sometimes asking for forgiveness for being an ass and other times just a "hey I have been thinking about you" type of call. He has learned from Brians death...you never know when it will be too late. I too have learned...Haley and I have had rifts but we spent the last couple of days catching up...I forgave a young women from my past that I feel has wronged me. And I try to let go of grudges...before the unthinkable happens again and the guilt eats me up.


We miss you Brian!

Jazz Sunday

Today was the first time I took the boys to a church service. To be honest this is the first time I have gone to a church service at "our" church and it has many many years since I have been to any sort of church service. What a Sunday to go to church...it was just wonderful. Grace Congregational had a Jazz Sunday, which means they had a wonderful Jazz band playing in the Sanctuary. The Onion River Jazz band was just amazing. The boys (and myself) were just enthralled and uplifted by the music they were playing. Ryan loved the tuba, and Griffin loved every bit of it.
As most of you know, I am not one to go to church and pray. But I have been feeling like I need some sort of spirituality. Which is why we went today. The sermon by Rev. Tracy really hit home for me. I could really relate to what she had to say. It wasn't just reading out of the bible, she spoke about now and the how we live today. That really helped me stay attentive. I really had a lot to take out of her sermon. The whole service was inspiring to me. I really felt a connection to what was said and what hymns were sung. I apparently really needed this. And for the past few weeks I think I have been gently pushed towards God. I have never felt this way and for those of you who know me, probably never thought you would hear me say this. But the last couple of weeks there has been all these "signs" that led me towards God. The topper was Brad's death. I really felt the need to attend church and really have a connection to God. The boys did really well at church. I packed a bag of trucks, crayons, books, and cheerios so the had something to do. I was really hoping they would go to the Sunday school class, but they wanted to stay with me. Maybe next week they will go to the class.
Tomorrow is "Not Me! Monday". I can't wait to read all the things people did (didn't) do this week, it is so nice to see we are all human.

Sad News...

Last night we got a shocker of a phone call. My cousin Lynn, who has became a good friend and I also take care of her 2 year old daughter Becca, went home from work and found her husband dead on the sofa. I can't believe it. Brad was so young, maybe 45, and they have 2 little girls. I feel so badly for Lynn and her family. I wish there was something I could do for her. I am at a loss, would be appropriate for me to make dinner for them?
I also am not sure how my boys would be affected by this. They don't understand all that well, when we told them what happen. Ryan was also close to Lynn at school. She is a teacher at his school and was there to help him when he was having a hard time at the beginning of the year. Both boys loved Brad. When he would come here to drop Abigail off from school, the boys would play and goof around with him. They really enjoyed seeing him.

I think this just re enforces my need to attend church and the boys go to church school on Sundays. They would have the faith to help them understand death, and have some idea what happens after people die.
This is Becca. She is a sweet, talkative little girl. She is only 2, and will probably never remember her dad. How sad.