Saying Good Bye To Mom

My mom’s last days of life were full of love and life and then she dashed up to heaven with out any regrets, surrounded by love, with a heart full of happiness and gratitude for the life she was living here with family in Oregon.

We had a party planned for my sweet momma like we did every Summer. 

We celebrated her half birthday when it was warm out because it was too cold in December when her actual birthday was.  She was always cold, even in the summer she would cruise around the garden in her wheelchair, 80 degrees outside, bundled up in a goofy giant sweater covered in dog hair.

She loved the dogs as much as the rest of us.  And, of course, they all adored her.  She spoiled them. Dave has a strict rule about no dinner scraps for the pups…especially at the table. 

My mom always mischievously broke the rules.  She would sneak food into her hand and discreetly or not so discreetly reach under the table and smirk. 

She was sassy like that

Our party theme for that summer was Rubber Ducky Regatta.  She was excited.  She would brain storm with my sister Mitch, Chloe and me about all the decorations we could make and all the activities we could plan.  She loved to watch the activity. 

In the early days she was quite artistic and crafted everything there is to craft from dolls to carving and painting ceramic plates.

In her last few years of life she lived vicariously through my crafting and comings and goings. She would praise all the crazy things I would make, just like a doting Momma!

She loved to go on outings and visit all the beautiful gardens in Oregon.

She also spent a lot of time in the garden supervising us, scrolling through Facebook, playing Free Cell on her phone and commenting on politics on the news feeds.  Oy!  Sassy girl.

She bought me many crafting tools and machines.  She got me a Cricut one birthday and an embroidery sewing machine for another.  She bought me all kinds of workspace and storage items for my crafts.  She loved when I spent my day down in her basement making things. 

As Mitchie, Chloe and I cut out rubber duckies and made banners and signs and cupcake wrappers for the Rubber Ducky Regatta,  she sat in front of the TV with her nose in the phone conquering Free Cell .

Every now and then she would ask to see one of my creations.  She would oooohhh and aaaahhhh over absolutely everything we made.  She was our number 1 fan!  If I needed validation for anything, mom was the one.  She thought her girls were geniuses!

She looked forward to her party every year

She was proactive and the perfect assistant for keeping track of the guest list.  She would look up the Evite on her phone and let me know that “so and so” hadn’t responded and asked if she should give them a call.  She was the social secretary and she was quite efficient. 

She was also an excellent mobile ladder complete with safety straps!

She was equally excited for this Rubber Ducky Regatta

When I texted her and my sister Mitch to say the Evite went out, she texted:

As I cut and paste this text thread, I cry…she was so damn funny and sassy and sharp.

She was looking forward to this party but a tad less engaged in the planning and a little more sucked into her books on Kindle.  That’s the other thing about mom, she read every book written and as her eye sight got bad over the last years, she listened to books on tape, non-stop.  She would listen to the same one over and over again.  She said the books kept her company.  If you lost track of her in the garden, you could listen for the book! 

When we first moved to Oregon, my son Gavin shared a cottage with my mom. We lived on a property with a main house and a cottage just the right size for my mom.  Gavin slept on her couch for a bit. 

He often tells the story about hearing strange voices in the night.  Sometimes his granny would listen to books by Nora Roberts and also her books written under the pseudonym JD Robb.  Those books were a tad raunchy and for Gav, it was amusing and slightly disturbing to hear foul language and sex scenes coming from Granny’s room in the middle of the night.  Mom would just laugh! She was a character.

The Rubber Ducky Regatta was scheduled for July 28^th.

On June 28^th as mom was tootling about the Garden, she mentioned she was feeling a bit tired lately and maybe having a little trouble breathing.

So, I said, “Well let’s go to the doctor”.  Usually when I say that she hems and haws and sometimes just flat out refuses.  But, this day she said, “yes, let’s go. “

So, I called and they got her right in.

When she said “let’s go”, in my heart, I knew.   My mom wasn’t an over reactor.  She wasn’t a complainer.  She’d been through more in her life than anyone I know. She’s tough. She knew this time something was up.

But…as we chatted about it, we both protected each other’s heart by avoiding the idea that this might be it.  We made light of it. We lied to ourselves. To each other.  We didn’t want to face it.  So, we did a really good job of keeping our hopes up.  Denial.

My mom’s usual Doctor wasn’t in, so we saw one that we didn’t know.  She was great, matter of fact and proactive.  After she checked mom over she said that her blood oxygen was very low and that we needed to check her into the hospital. 

What? 

This came as a complete shock and at the same time, in my heart I knew.  I know this is weird to say because deep down I was feeling scared so you would think this would not come as a shock, but still, when I got the news, somehow I was still so caught off guard.  I can’t explain it.

I hid my tears from my mom as I pushed her in her wheelchair back out to the car.

Mom said, “I don’t want to go to the hospital”.  I said, “let’s just go and have them get you feeling better and then we will come home.

So, we went home and got her Kindle, comfy clothes, and her favorite socks that my sister Mitchie got her in Canada with a big marijuana leaf on the bottom. Then we headed back to the hospital and checked her in.

They gave her oxygen and a diuretic to get rid of excess fluids.  She felt better with the oxygen and the diuretic made her pee.  The diuretic made her quite uncomfortable, physically and mentally.  She didn’t like the diaper thing.  I reassured her that the nurses changed diapers all the time and this was no big deal.  I told her that I would do the diapers and that made her feel better. 

She always trusted me.  Always wanted me to do things that others could do but they just didn’t do them right, according to my mom.  She was comfortable with me. I was honored.

The reaction to the diuretic was kind of painful.  I held her hand and told her she would get through this and feel better soon.  She was thankful for the oxygen.  That was making her feel better.

So now that we had some info on her condition, I said, “Mom, we need to tell the family what is going on.”

She said, “No, I don’t want to talk about it right now.  I’m tired and I don’t have the energy to console anyone”.  I said, “Mom…they’re going to be mad.”  She said, “please let’s just wait a bit until I have more energy ok?”  And of course, I said, “ok mom.  I understand. “

I wondered to myself, “what is the right thing to do here?  Respect my mom’s wishes? I knew she was right. If I told people, my mom would get phone calls that she didn’t want to handle right now.  But, what if family didn’t have a chance to talk with her again? “

The doctors in the hospital said she was stable.  They were going to keep her overnight but oxygen was up and things were looking better.  Relief.  Geez.  That was a close one.  Ok, I’ll wait to say anything to the family…stay loyal to my mom.

She stayed the night and texted about the food and how great the nurses were.

And she texted several times that she wanted to come home.

I went to the hospital and hung out with her to keep her company. To keep busy in the hospital bed, we watched Gavin and a few other friends from the cast of Sabrina go “live” on Instagram. Gavin sang Granny and me a song. She thought that was super cool! 

Mom and her “pot-sox” made her “Miss Popular” and the talk of the hospital.  Everyone always loved my mom. She was a gem.

They ended up keeping her in the hospital another night so they could monitor levels to be sure she was ok.  They wanted to make sure she could go potty. 

They wanted an occupational therapist to come home with her so they could help her get around.  This was so laughable to me.  I had been helping her get around my entire life, considering she had polio before I was born! 

If anyone could help her in and out of bed and on and off the potty, it was me! 

So when mom refused the Occupational therapist they arranged a meeting so they could teach me how to help her.  (insert eye roll here)  I humored them and attended.  Then I showed them how I get her on and off the potty. I passed the test!

My mom was stubborn about this process.  She really did not want anyone to help her but me.  We had done this choreography for years.  We were quite graceful.  The OT’s were satisfied and mentioned that they could probably learn a thing or two from my mom and me and how we moved as one in this process.  Our timing.  We had a feel for each other.  Grace.

I have to admit that I noticed the choreography was getting a bit clunky lately.

I could tell she was getting weaker.  She had a hard time doing her part of the dance.  Deep down I worried about this.  I mean, I am no spring chicken and my back is shot from the lifting.  And, I didn’t want to admit that she was getting weaker, this strong, brave, super hero of mine.

Once Mom got home she was a happy camper.  The first thing she did was tootle about her beloved garden and say hello to the pups and Chloe.

She was still tired but that was to be expected since it had been a very busy few days. She really loved having the oxygen.  She wasn’t sure if it was just a placebo/security blanket but, whatever…it made her feel better.

Time to tell the family…Who do I call first?  How do I make this fair? 

I decided to text everyone at once.

First I sent the text to mom and said…how does this sound…good?  Any changes?  She approved, I snapped a photo and I sent it. 

As predicted she got some flack…

which was stressful, just as she thought it would be.  But mostly she got lots of love.  Lots of encouragement. She fielded all the communication but was really so tired.  Which was to be expected after such a busy day, (I thought this to myself, hoping that was why she was so tired.)

She took lots of naps her last few days.  My mom never took naps. She also ate very little.  She wanted homemade chicken noodle soup and blueberry muffins so that’s what she got.  I made a big batch of both.  She was not allowed to have any salt so the soup was pretty bland.  She ate a bit and said it was really good but in actuality, she probably had about 3 bites of soup and half a mini blueberry muffin. 

For her last bite of soup, she decided she would break the rules and have a dash of salt.  I told her to go for it.  I mean, seriously.  One dash of salt is not going to hurt.

On July 3^rd she had a doctors appointment.  Her check up was great. 

All her vitals signs were great.  Things were looking up.

She was still tired though.  I hoped that was because of her doctor appointment outing.

After she cruised the garden and sat for a bit gazing at the pond from one of her favorite vantage points, I tucked her in for a nap.  I spent most of the day cleaning her place making it all bright and shiny because I knew she would be spending more time than usual indoors for a few days.  And because I wanted to be near her without hovering.

I picked some of her favorite flowers and brought her garden inside for her to enjoy.  She loved this.

That evening, around 5:00.  Dave and I dashed out to get some food up the street.   Before we left mom asked if Dave could check her oxygen,

Dave checked the oxygen.  All was right and normal.

As Dave and I drove away to pick up dinner, we sat quietly for a minute in the car. We looked at each other and didn’t say what we both felt in our hearts.  Even though her doctor said all was looking great, we knew. Mom was not herself.  She was weak and tired and scared.  We knew. 

Dave finally said it.  “I’m not ready for this. I can’t say good bye to her.”  “Me neither” was all I could say.

I came home and sat next to her bed.  She slept most of the time but she would wake up and say, “You don’t have to stay here honey, I’m fine.  Go to bed.”  And I would say, “no, I’m going to stay a minute.”  And I sat there and watched her listen to her Kindle and mostly sleep. I looked at this precious soul who adored me, and who I adored. I hoped as I tucked her in that she would get better once she rested up.  Before I left her bedside I said, “holler when you need help going potty in the night.   I don’t care what time it is, do not go potty by yourself.  Just yell out, I will hear you through the baby monitor.”  She said “Ok.”

But at around 1:00 AM, I woke from a dead sleep; I awoke just hearing the click of her wheelchair turning on.  This is not a loud sound. I don’t know how it woke me up, but I bolted down 2 flights of stairs and as I ran out of my room I said, “Dave, she’s getting up and I told her to ask for my help.  I don’t want her to try on her own”.  He said, “yell out if you need me.”

When I got to her room, she was sitting up in her bed

I said, “Momma, I told you to call me for help.”  She mumbled something that I couldn’t understand.  I said, “Let me help you”. I think she was trying to tell me that she already went but I couldn’t really understand.  I assumed she was wanting to go to the restroom again.  So, we did our usual choreography.  She felt heavy to me.  I got her into her chair and then we transferred to the toilet…

and then she fell into me with her head in my chest.  I tried to pull back to see her face.  I said, “are you feeling weak mom..tired?” and then I saw her gasping.  I yelled out to Dave so he could hear me on the monitor and he was there in 2 seconds flat.  I mouthed the words, “She’s dying.” 

Dave lifted her from the potty and carried her to bed.  She was still gasping.  It was a scary sight.  As I look back on my behavior at that moment, I find it kind of odd.  I told her, “it’s ok my sweet girl.  I love you Momma.  You go.  Sleep sweet Momma.  It’s ok.  And then I began singing a lullaby. 

She kept gasping and I worried that she was suffering.  So, I panicked and called 911.  This was a mistake.  I wish I just let her go peacefully but the 911 operator did what she is supposed to do and made us put my mom on the floor and perform CPR.  The memories of me pounding on my mom’s chest, begging her to come to life, are not good ones.  It felt harsh and chaotic at a time that I wish I would have let her go more gracefully.

The phone sat on the floor next to my mom and was on speaker.  The 911 operator made me count out loud.  I didn’t want to count, I wanted to tell my mom how much I loved her in case her spirit was hovering above me and could somehow hear me.   Every time I stopped counting to say “I love you mom” I was scolded and told to continue to pound. I pounded for 20 minutes until the ambulances arrived.

I wish I wasn’t such a rule follower.

My mom had a Do Not Resuscitate order on file.  The paramedics wanted me to go dig up my copy of that order.  I couldn’t remember where I put it.  I was a little preoccupied with the fact that my dear mom was dying on the floor.  He seemed irritated with me.  I ran around trying to find it.  Then I got mad and busted back into the room and said, can’t you guys look this up in the registry.  I mean, isn’t that what the freaking registry is for? 

His superior stepped in and helped out.  “Of course.  I will look it up”, he said.  And then he kicked out the clueless paramedic and all was a bit more peaceful.

With that DNR order, they let my mom go.

They pronounced her dead that early 4^th of July morning.  They left and we waited for the funeral home to pick her up.  Dave and I sat on the floor and told her how much we loved her for about an hour. Surreal. 

It was time to tell the family.

Chloe and Nate were home and heard the chaos of the paramedics and the dogs.  Nate quieted the dogs through the process.  My sweet Chloe sat on the floors with the dogs and cried as they licked the tears off her face.  She adored her granny.  She spent beautiful, valuable quality time with her.

Granny adored her.  She loved her and Nate together. 

Granny was so at peace with her relationship with my sweet girl.

Gavin was my first call.  He was in Vancouver filming. He knew that, when the phone rang in the wee hours of the morning, it was about granny.  He had just chatted with her the day before.  They had a very close, comfortable and expressive relationship.  They loved each other’s company and could talk about anything. 

She was so at peace with her relationship with Gav.

Then I called my brothers and sisters.  Nobody answered at first.  It was an ungodly hour.  Eventually they all called back and one by one I relived the last moments of my sweet mom, dying in my arms.

The next 3 days seemed sort of spiritual and other-worldly.  Everything was a sign from Mom in heaven.  There were so many little occurrences that felt like she was communicating with me/us.  Someday I will share those moments.

After 3 days that feeling was gone.  It was weird. 

The Rubber Ducky Regatta party planning turned into planning a celebration of life.  My mom always said she did not want a funeral.

She wanted her day to be more like an Irish wake where everyone gets together, tells stories and drinks and dances and carries on.

So we did.  We carried on with the Rubber Duckey Regatta festivities in honor of my mom.  Just how she requested.

Prior to the party, family and friends gathered in my living room and shared our stories about this sweet lady.  I said:

Mom was so looking forward to this party…when she was feeling tired the week before she passed, she told me she had to hurry and get feeling better for this party. She had me get her vitamins, Ensure, she had me make her homemade chicken noodle soup…no salt…she followed the doctor’s orders about low salt intake, (mostly). She even asked the doctor if it was still ok to drink wine and she was excited to tell everyone that wine was ok!  She had absolutely every intention of being here with all of us. 

And I believe she is here.

Mom planned to live past 100. She definitely was not ready to go. She had plans for gardens and outings and being with us all through life’s milestones. She fought to live just like she fought through every giant obstacle that life presented to her. She was and always will be my super hero.

I was really upset after she passed about the fact that she wasn’t ready. I kept thinking of the places she told me she wanted to go and the ideas and plans she had. And it bothered me so much that she didn’t get to do those things. And then, I was talking with Dave and I realize that that really is the best way to go. I mean who wants to sit around and be ready to die. She was sharp and excited about life up to the very end. She didn’t take death lying down. She didn’t die in her sleep after languishing in her bed like an old lady. She actually got up out of her bed and fought hard one last time and then bolted up to heaven on the 4^th of July. This is so very typical of her. And I was thankful to be holding her in my arms as she went to heaven. She died so gracefully. She just sat up and drove her chair to the bathroom and leaned into my arms and that was that.  Right there with her head on my heart. Dave laid her in her bed and for some reason I sang her a lullaby. I’m not sure why. I guess I felt like the mama at that point and I wanted to comfort her as she passed in case she was scared.  So rest assured sweet family, her passing was loving and peaceful.

She wouldn’t want this day to be sad.

She’s here.  She is enjoying this day but instead of sitting in her wheelchair…she is running about with the rest of us for the first time since she was in her 20’s. She is slip and sliding with the grandkids and sabotaging any boat in the rubber ducky regatta boat race that is not named after her!

My friends, there is no way to prepare for the shock of this inevitable event.

If I could give any advice, it is to love and cherish your elderly parents each and every moment. Don’t take the days for granted. Even though mom and dad are old and we know it’s coming…it still catches us completely off-guard when it actually happens. When it happened for me, I found that the love that poured in from everywhere…friends and family, was honestly quite comforting, but the only thing that really heals the deep ache you wake up with every day, is time. Time really is the magic potion that helps us move on.

Have a ball in heaven Momma

I hope you’re dancing the Jitterbug