Strange viewpoint from a 50something

Time spins on..

December 28, 2012

I’ve been afraid to write. My thoughts so choked up in my brain, I feel like I’m in a constant spin. So begins the next chapter… and the absence of Mom in my life. While in St Louis, I was able to keep most of my thoughts and feelings under wraps. Because we kept busy. I truly think that’s what got me/us through was just diving in and taking care of business.

I’ve been crying alot. Everyday, in fact, since she died. Randomly. Over..   nothing. My heart is still so heavy with the loss of her. I knew it was coming. I knew she was going to die. But the little girl me just didn’t want to think about it…  about how I would feel.. or how I would deal with her gone. I guess that’s true denial.

At the end of our last stay in Mom’s house, we whizzed through taking care of her things. As hard and painful as the reason for us doing this was, I’ll say it was wonderful to spend time with the sibs. Before Mom became sick, our time together was always very fleeting. All of us busy with life and it’s dramas. When Mom first became sick this time the 3 of us did get to spend more than a few days together. We were pulled together, that sibling bond that we hadn’t felt in many years.

Each of us had the opportunity to spend time taking “our turn” caring for Mom. So grateful for that. For most of the time I spent with her, she remained fiesty as ever. Every night, I would hug her and she would say… “I love you… Thank you for taking care of me.” When I kissed her goodbye, to return home until my next shift, I never sensed it would be the last time I would get to love on her. I held fast to that hopeful little girl heart that takes residence in my chest.

The lonely drive home thinking of fragments of time I cannot let go of and wishing  for so many that I no longer remember. And in a car overstuffed with treasures and trinkets of my Mom’s life. All weigh heavy as I realized how we, in the end, come down to things. I suddenly felt that none of it matters…she is gone. Each item so important at the moment I was sure it would help me fill the hole in my soul. But it does not. I need to focus on who and what Mom is to me. She was a powerfully independent woman. She had grit. She would not approve of this shutdown I’m in.

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Home now is just a house.

November 30, 2012

 

Very low key, this drive to St Louis was. I sat in my car outside her house a few minutes.. a little hestitant to go in. I might have sat there longer but little brother was inside waiting for me to arrive. He must have heard me pull up because he was coming out to meet me as I got out of my car. The sadness and relief felt by us both as we stood there and hugged.
After a couple hours of talking and crying and laughing, he asked if I was sure I was ok to stay here – you know – by myself. And I was. I hadn’t felt uncomfortable being in the house… except looking at the empty bed sitting in the dining room. Stripped and lowered, it was now just a piece of equipment. The first thing on my list is to call and have all of this stuff picked up. I want to get the dining room table back in there, so it’s more home than ‘Mom’s last stand’.
I went to bed in a very, very quiet house. Her air machines were noisy but once you were used to the sound it became soothing. So there I layed… in the quiet… going crazy!! I turned the television on and went right to sleep.

The guy came early, picked up the bed and things the following day. Now that the table and chairs are back in their spots, things ‘feel’ almost normal. This has been home for 35 years.. but there remains a vacancy. Her presence is missing. Strange, but when she was in the hospital and we came into this house, she was here, you could feel her. Walking around today I still feel little wiffs of her but there is such an emptiness now. ugh.
Tomorrow will be even stranger as Kenny and I will go speak to someone about her arrangements. She was very clear about what she wanted done and we are determined to honor all that she asked.
I’ve mostly been my adult self the last few days. Whenever the little girl in me shows herself that’s when her death is the hardest. The child in me cries. The child in me doesn’t want to let go… Momma…

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Momma…

November 24, 2012

She’s gone.

I don’t know that I have processed it fully. My brother called me this morning to let me know she died in her sleep. I was not prepared for the news. My greatest fear has now been realized. I will not see her again in this life. My heart is heavy, those feelings of love and hurt are so thick.

After about a hundred phones calls and 3/4 box of tissues, it has been decided I will return to St Louis tomorrow. My sister is due to fly in Thursday. There’s not much else for us to do at this point, except be together. My Mom’s wishes were very clear and easy. She did it that way for us. So, we will get together as siblings and we will cry and we will remember and we will cry some more. Our time there will be limited so the task of taking care of her things… ugh… I can’t even fathom. But it has to be done. And by us. Together. Just like she wanted.

I looked at myself in the mirror a while ago.. the older me on the outside shows the signs of hours of crying with puffy eyes and a pink tissue abused nose. And deep in my eyes… I saw my little-girl self looking back asking, “what’m I gonna do now?”

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Living While Dying..

November 12, 2012

I’ve spent the last week tending to my Mom. The time has been fun and easy, as she is such a good soul. She doesn’t require much ‘babysitting’, in fact she hates the hovering! Still the most independent person I know, she insists things go her way. And as restricted as she is, she wants the last word!! Haha!! The most that I have been doing is cooking her meals and making sure her coffee maker (which is positioned next to her bed) is ready to go for the next day.

We had a visit yesterday from one of her doctors. (Who knew some still make house calls!?!?) I found out after he had left that it wasn’t a doctor/patient visit… he came and sat with my Mom as a friend. I am… overwhelmed. This man took time out of his day and came to her home, and just visited. And when he left… he hugged my Mom. In this day and age, any doctor who takes a personal interest (like this housecall) in their patients is so very rare. And you could tell, as they interacted, that his concern was genuine.

In 90% of her mind she is sure that this way of life will not last long… (and I am NOT talking about her anticipating her death here!) she is determined to live life on her terms! She truly believes that she will work herself back to life lived alone. I love her spunk and determination.. even if she tires easily she still wants to do it herself. Currently she can only move herself from bed to bathroom, and back again. Or from bed to her chair in living room. Now these excursions are not more than 10 to 15 ft, but it takes a good 10 minutes for her to recover.. the air use to just move that little bit of space overloads her very damaged lungs. She is such a trooper though… still believing that she can bring herself back. From where I sit, I don’t see how she can recover from all the damage, but I do see a woman who has great hope and faith. Talking to my sister by phone, we came to the same conclusion… it’s because of that hope and faith that she is doing as well as she is. Had she gone into some sort of care facility or senior home, she would have already given up and died. But being at home, in her own environment… that’s made the difference.
The other 10% of her mind is spent thinking of all the things she wants everyone to have. Out of the blue she will direct me to something stashed somewhere in her huge house and tell me to get it out and give it to ______ (insert name here). Nothing found is super important.. (bows for my daughter?!) but to her it’s very important! While I’m here, any request to do anything will be fulfilled. No matter how insignifigant it might seem to me, if she asks I will answer.

The funny thing about all this is the term – “death watch”. The sibs and I were told that she is going to die. The doctor explained that she didn’t have long to live. But the more I think of that.. the more I realize how stupid it is. Death watch. We are all on it. And not just for other people but for ourselves as well. (I remember when I was young and I finally understood what death meant… damn I was mad!! In my little girl mind I just kept coming back to one thought… why would people bring children into this world knowing that the end result is death? How unfair!!) So what makes this different? We are all going to die. So because of Mom’s unique situation, we are suppose to sit around and wait for her death? My Mom isn’t. And what am I learning? That I won’t either. Her inspiration is so very strong and I hear it loud and clear!!

What a turn of events… this living while dying thing.

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When there’s a way.. the will isn’t far behind,,

October 30, 2012

I am a few days away from returning to St Louis. My Mom has found a new wave of life to ride. So much more restricted, but she lives on. In talking to both my siblings, I’ve learned that she is even being left alone for a couple hours at a time!! I know my Mom has been insisting on this… to go from ~happy she lives by herself to having one of us there 24/7~ I can only guess that she is rejoicing in the quiet! I’ve spoken to her on the phone and when you’re not there, you picture in your mind what you want to see. So in my mind, she is her old -I-can-do-it-myself- Mom. In reality though, she is doing well, she’s found a new routine for her day, with very little movement involved. Her voice sounded tired this last chat I had with her… but her scrappy attitude is still intact!!

I am back in the state of worry I was in when I came home a couple weeks ago. The situation has not changed. It’s still the same reasoning. I am there to watch over my Momma. To take turns with my siblings, to wait an undetermined amount of time until she dies. This ticks me off. So not fair. If there is one thing I have learned… life is not fair. In fact, it’s harsh as hell. But the small sliver of bright in this muck is that I can still talk to her. All my life I have told Mom things, I have confided in her, shared more with her than most women do with their Moms. She has always been my go to girl when it comes to advice. I find it difficult to see my life without her ear and her words.

During the 10 days I was there before, so much time was spent learning how to care for and deal with my Mom as she loses her battle with emphysema. Hospice had multiple visits to acclimate us to all her needs now and in her short future. These days there is a new flow to her day that I will fall into. A routine for me to learn and be a part of. For 2 weeks I will have downtime that I cannot find in my real life. With my erratic schedule (thank you AltasAir!) I have no normal type of daily ritual. Time to do things always seem to be interrupted by something or other.

So for me to just…. sit. And…. wait.

I will enjoy all the days I have remaining with her. I will tell her all the dramas I have always told her about… I will tell her the secrets I tell only my momma.. I will share my latest craft idea which will invoke an idea that she will share with me.. I will share the funniest things I can come up with to hear her laughter..

I will..

I will..

I will..

I will find all the will I will need.

Before I get there.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Open letter to my baby.

October 21, 2012

Dear Son of mine,

To say I am angry would be an understatement. To be honest I really don’t know who I am more angry with.. you or me. You see I am the one who raised you. I am the one who taught you respect and values. Today it seems I have failed. But the blame is not all mine, is it?

How dare you talk to me the way you did. How dare you make such hurtful remarks to me because you didn’t get the help you were calling for. If your life is a mess, why am I at fault? You are a 26 year old man who’s been making his own decisions for a long time now. But you call and cry to me about how things are so bad, you are hungry and you’ve been in bed for a week, and you even talk about taking your own life! (What Mother wants to hear her child say that???) Today you told me that I don’t help you but I help your sister. Today you told me that you didn’t care if you were hurting my feelings, because you are my son I should drop everything and rescue you… “if Bry called and needed something I would….” When I reminded you of a time where I helped you out (just recently, in fact!) and I still haven’t received all payback, you said… “really Mom? I am the kid… I am in trouble, you are suppose to help me….” You played the guilt card?? On ME?? Right now you are so full of your own self loathing shit that you forgot who I am. I was where you are many times, for many different reasons. But I did it with 2 kids in tow. I wasn’t the greatest parent.. but you kids didn’t go without anything.. food, clothes, roof over your head. We didn’t have alot because I didn’t know how to budget or save or be smart. I made alot of bad choices and we just didn’t have much. I had so much debt, I had so little money. I did alot of crying. I did alot of whining about the place I was at. But I didn’t lay around… I worked harder. Got an extra job. Did what was needed.

I know I made many mistakes raising you, but the basics were there. That all went out the window when you didn’t stand up for me to that nightmare wife of yours and tell her “don’t talk to my Momma like that”. And since you didn’t, 8 years later now you talk to me like that. Learned behavior. Begging for help and then using any means to get what you need… that is a Felicia move.. and you have it down pat. As you know I don’t take it from her… and I will not take it from you either. You want to blame all your problems on me… go ahead. You want to lash out and be ugly to me… go ahead. You want to go around being pissed off at me… go ahead. Will I forgive you? Yes… at some point. Not without this written reminder.

I have taught both you and your sister that you can do, or be, or acquire anything in this life that you want. The choice is yours. I love you dearly my son… but grow the fuck up.

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Still looking for the SandMan..

October 20, 2012

I’ve met many people in this world from all walks of life, some are still treasured friends. I met a man on a flight from Charlotte to Huntsville and this blog is about him.

I don’t fly often, but when I do it doesn’t bother me much. When the engines gear up for take off and then you feel the brakes release and the plane begins to roll down the runway… the force as it keeps you in your seat. ahhh… I love that!! Lifting off the ground still amazes me. The idea that I am in a small metal tube flying through the sky under its own power.. how is this possible?? Usually the first thing I do, after finding all the exits in relationship to where I sit… is to figure out if my seatmate is a worthy seatmate. What I mean by that is – Am I sitting next to someone who has their head on their shoulders or up their ass or even aware they have a head? I want to feel secure in the feeling that I am sitting next to someone who has a knack for life, one who would fight to live if something like a crash happened.

On my trip to New York in 2010 I met a wonderful woman who I’ve had the pleasure of making friends with outside of the plane ride. We traded emails and cell numbers on the promise of getting together at some point and we actually did that! We have shared a few meals since that flight, and it’s nice. To meet someone on the fly (not to use a pun!) like that and maintain a friendship is a great story!

I got to my seat and waited patiently for that seatmate to show themselves. I watched as person after person boarded the plane and took their seats.. still that seat next to me remained empty. I heard the annoucement that the door had been closed and still –  empty. At this point I am looking at the person across the aisle.. (I need to know who I will be dealing with, counting on, oh crap… really???) Just then a man walks up from the back and plops in the empty seat.

We said hello, (nice… he has an accent) and so it began. Don’t get me wrong here. I was instantly comfortable. I assessed and decided that if some calamity happened he would keep his head…. whew!! Ok, now that I am over that survival hump, right away we bantered conversation back and forth, he was easy to talk with, articulate, knowledged and ohh the accent!! After a few initial questions, it’s discovered that he is a married cardiologist who was born in Lebanon. How refreshing to hold down conversation with someone of his stature. In any other scenario would he have given me the time of day? Hmm don’t want to know the answer to that.

It was just over an hour flight and we learned all the surface things about each other, what area we live in (as it was discovered we were both flying home), what we did for a living, our martial status, kids, grankids and granpuppies… you know, all the important stuff! Next it was on to hobbies, I bowl and play billards and he plays tennis. I don’t remember just how we lit on the subject, but he spoke of a sand collection. He wants small amounts of sand from every corner of the world. The odd thing is, I just went to Florida two weeks previous to this and collected a large amount of sand from Narvarre Beach, Fl. As I revealed this information he was beside himself. Would I send him some of it? He continued to tell me all those in his world he has recruited to bring him some sand from wherever they might travel. Since we had already discussed our occupations, he even asked if I might get the pilots to bring some back from Europe, Brazil and Mexico! He mentioned a couple times that he would gladly give me his address so that I could send him said sand from wherever.

The plane landed and as we rolled toward the terminal, he looked for, then told me he didn’t have one of his business cards. I managed to pull out one of mine and there it ended. He took it and said he would email his address for me to send a small amount of my Navarre sand. He patted my arm, wished me a safe trip home and down the aisle he went.

Time has passed and I haven’t heard from him. I don’t know why that bothers me. I had hoped to have a friendship with him.  (NO! Not like that. I am very happy in my life.)  The idea I could have a friend so totally different from me. I just wonder what we might have learned from each other?

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And so life resumes…

October 19, 2012

My Mom is at home, and she is stable, after a week with her and not seeing any decline in her health, it was time to peel myself away from the situation and return to my life. I’ve missed Del. I’ve missed my job, my friends. I returned home to Alabama. The drive was long, filled with memories and tears. What if I never hug and kiss her again? The ‘what if’s’ ravaged my mind the entire ride.

Now that I’m home, I am overwhelmed. There is so much to get back to but I just can’t find the motivation. I feel lost. My mind is in St Louis. Busy worrying about the one thing I cannot change. It felt good to go back to work, the activity of moving around is a mood lifter. By the time I finished for the day, I was so physically whooped. Seems it just doesn’t matter though, my mind is still at full throttle. My sweet Mom, her independent spirit is still very much alive! Her will to control what is happening is there, but it’s just not working like it used to. I kissed and hugged her before I left. My last image of her was the helplessness and the fear of waiting I saw reflected in her eyes. How can I stop thinking about it??

I am proud that my sibs and I have come together to make sure she knows one of us will be with her until and at the moment. We three worked out a schedule where we will each be there to help take care of her. Even though hospice is involved, their time with her is limited until her health really declines. I have been home almost a week and the phone calls I’ve had with her – Mom sounds so amazing!! I know she is more restricted than she has ever been, that will never change. How can we possibly be waiting for such a thing as her death? The doctor told us to expect it soon. She doesn’t have much time… but to talk to her, it just seems unreal. She said to me today that she wants to know how much longer. How do I answer that???? And if all this is hard on me, what must it be doing to her?

She has been the one we have relied on for guidance and love. Where do I find the guidance I need to help her through this? Is my mind trying to deny her condition? Is it how I am able to function day to day without my mind taking me where I don’t want to go? This is not how it’s suppose to be! The little girl in me is stomping around and kicking up a fuss..

 

 

 

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The homecoming.

October 12, 2012

I am watching my beautiful Mother as she loses her battle with emphysema. She has fought the galant fight for many years. She even kicked breast cancer’s ass. Twice! On oxygen! The second operation, she wasn’t allowed to be put under because of her lungs. So she endured the procedure wide awake and even though she felt no serious pain, did feel the doctors digging around in there.
I am watching as the body that carries her mind and her soul shuts down. I want to tell you that I am doing ok. But truth be told, I’m not. And I haven’t let it go yet. Not yet. I hope that I can sharpen the backbone that she has now passed to me and fuse it to my own. I have to have the strength that she needs to see, to help her through this transistion.

Finally the ambulance pulled up to Mom’s house. We’d been waiting for an hour now. I went out and peered into the back window and there she was… waving and smiling. When they opened the door, in a weak little yelp I heard, “I’m home!!” I had to laugh! 30 minutes later and she is settled in, in her new surroundings. Taking it all in… you could see in her eyes… she still has the fire… not liking the change at all. The 3 of us hovering around, probably bugging the crap out of her, asking her this or that, trying to disguise that we are just as miserable about this as she is.
Within an hour she is out of the bed, walking herself (with a walker and a very slow gait) to the bathroom. Next she rests a bit and walks herself to the kitchen. Under protest, she is determined to do it herself! She makes it halfway to her chair in her living room, takes a 15 minute rest in the chair there. She lifts her carcass up and makes the last half of the walk. Took her another 15 minutes to collect herself enough to eat.

Not really saying much, sitting there in her chair all evening watching her offspring chattering away. Can’t imagine what she was thinking. After my brother went home and my sister went to bed, now it was just us. I asked how she was doing. Nodding her head okay… I’m okay. I began giving her the business for doing too much. First day home… after almost 10 days spent in a bed without much movement. Mom! You’re no spring chicken! Nodding her head some more, just like a scolded child! I know! I know, she says. I just blurted it out. “Mom I know this must be hard on you, but you have let us help you!! I know you’re scared. And I know that you know that WE are scared too!! But you have to count on us!” More nodding. Ugh.. the exasperation! We sat in silence awhile. I asked her if she needed anything, as I was going to bed. “yes, will you help me to bed?”

She spent the entire next day in the bed. She knew she over did it. All that time spent in the hospital… just waiting for the moment she could get home and do things for herself. And she did her absolute best to do that. But the reality of her situation has really set in now. She looked worn out but her eyes were different. Something I hadn’t seen before. I am really worried.
She went through the day in pretty good spirits, with a few spurts of laughter, and she ate good. But she just layed there. Not doing anything at all. Letting us hover and dote on her.

Who is this harder for I wonder, her… or us?

 

 

 

 

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Kindness still exists.

October 9, 2012

I seem to be sharing more than I thought I would about the trauma my family is experiencing, but I find great comfort in writing about it. There is pent up anger in me as I see my Mother slowly losing the battle of mind against body, and at the same time I feel overwhelming sadness and misery. I am riding an emotional rollercoaster.

So today, even though I have much more to get out of my system, I am going to go in a different direction.

Karen and I headed to the hospital to meet Kenny and see Mom. I parked and we were walking in and I spied the coolest St Louis Cardinal bumper sticker on another vehicle in the lot. I am a huge fan of my boys of summer!!Wild Cards!! I oohed and ahhed over it! It was awesome! We continued our walk in and ran into Kenny… I had to show him, maybe he might know where to get one.. (I have to have one!!) Nope… he’d never seen one like that. He said, “leave a note.” So I got out one of my business cards and wrote the following message on the back…. “Dear Person. I love the Cardinal sticker on your car!! Would you call me and let me know where you got it? Thank you… Francine” And then I added my brother’s local number.

This was 3 days ago. I asked Kenny every day if he’d heard anything… nothing. Oh well. Today he said a guy called him about the sticker!! Oh Wow!! I was so excited!! He went on to tell me that the man (who sounded very old and on the frail side) said he was very sorry for the delay in calling, but he had to call his daughter (long distance!) to find out where she had gotten it because it was a gift!
This man, who has no idea what we are going through, took time out of his life to find the information some stranger asked for on the back of a business card… and then apologized for taking a couple days!
I asked him if he still had the number of the caller. And I called…. if you know me, then you’ll know I just had to!
It rang about 4 times and then I heard the soft voice of a very elderly woman. I told her my name and explained that I was the sister of the man her husband called about the bumper sticker. She told me that his name is Norman and he had been at the hospital to pick her up, she’s been very sick, you know.  I thanked him again, through her, saying that it always amazes me the kindness some folks show. She voiced that there wasn’t much kindness left in the world. I told her I was very glad that on this day – there was.

=)

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