Dear Mom: 10 Years

September 19, 2024

Dear Mom,

Ten years.  A decade. Ten years since I woke up early in the morning to put a few drops of morphine under your tongue before going back to sleep for a little longer. Ten years since I left you in your apartment with Sean, Carly, and your friends knowing that you were going to die. I knew you were going to die, and I left, which some days seems unfathomable. However, I knew if I stayed...you wouldn’t die, you wouldn’t relinquish your soul back to God if I was still there. So, I left, a signal to you that it was time to go.  And you did at 3:39 PM that sunny afternoon 10 years ago.

Mom, it's been another “Sad September” as I call it. Sad is not really the word, because there is great beauty in this bittersweet month. Barb Eidson passed away on August 9.  I tell you this like you don’t already know, but I know you do know because while she is gone from us, she is now…. with you. Her passing was expected after traversing through dementia these last few years. The last time I saw her was at Harry Irwin’s funeral in 2021. I came over to say hello, I could tell she did not recognize me, but her face lit up with a smile that was just as beautiful as always. She was one of those special people at church, someone who was always there, a pillar as I call them. Do you remember she came to visit you the day before you died? Your friend Sharon Jones was there as well and in your delirious state I remember you marveling at how Barb and Sharon looked like twins. You insisted that I take a picture of them, so I did. And then you requested one of them take a picture of you and your caregiver….me. And so, they did, and that was our last picture together.

Barb was a character, always smiling, always joyful, always guiding me towards the choir room. Even when I would tell her that I did not sign up for choir this time and it was Wednesday night and this was my socializing time, she would smile and put her arm around my shoulder and guide me and other youth into the choir room and we would be in choir, until whatever event Barb needed us to sing for was over. I remember if the phone rang early in the morning at home, you and dad would say there is only one person who calls before 8 AM and that is Barb Eidson, and she is calling because she needs you to do something. So, when Dan Lemen passed away unexpectedly on August 28, just 4 days after I had seen and hugged him at Barb’s funeral, one of my first thoughts was that I guess Barb must’ve needed him to do something. I imagined her smiling and putting her arm around Dan’s shoulder and guiding him towards wherever she wanted him to go. I imagine him saying “But Barb, it’s too early, I am doing other things, I am not done here, I need to be with my family.” And I imagine Barb smiling and saying something about needing his distinctive vocal range in her choir and that it wouldn’t be too long at all before he would be back with his family. I wonder if that’s how time really seems in heaven, not long at all. I wonder if to you there is no concept of time, so to you, it hasn’t been 10 years, to you, you are still with me. Set apart, but still with me. The loss of Dan hit harder than with Barb because it felt so unexpected. How did he get to be 82?! To me he was someone forever maybe in his 60s. Logically I know that can’t be true because you would’ve been 78 this year and he was older than you and dad. Dan had been diagnosed with Parkinson’s though and I had noticed the last time that I saw him, that it was starting to show. Mom, I hate Parkinson’s disease, especially how it seems to affect men. The progressive debility and the slowing of speech which I imagine is incredibly hard in our impatient society who does not want to wait on anyone, the hallucinations, and the personality and behavior changes. I’ve heard so many wives speak of their husbands with Parkinson’s and say “That’s not him, he would never act that way, he would never strike anyone, he would never say those things.” And I tell them that I know, that it’s the disease process, it’s not them, but I know it must be terrifying. I know, but it’s hard to even imagine what it was must feel like to be trapped in the end stages of Parkinson’s disease. Mom, I thank God Dan Lemen will never have to suffer through that.

After Dan died, Aunt Pat wondered to me who was going to be next? Because deaths seem to come in threes. I know there’s nothing scientific behind that theory, but it does seem to happen that way. And then my sister-in-law Pat’s mother passed away in her sleep last Thursday, September 12,…and that was death number 3 for me. I know intellectually and I mean that as logically and scientifically as a geriatric nurse practitioner that her passing was not unexpected, but I know it was for Pat and her family. I know because Pat told me so, that she was not ready even though her mother had been under palliative care for a couple years. Their hearts were not ready. Who is ever ready to lose their mother?

Mom, I’m still trying to sort through my year as a palliative care NP and how success and failure were/are defined.  I wish I would’ve had you to discuss it with. From my experience and my perspective, I felt alone and a bit stigmatized in thinking there is a large gray area where we need to meet patients and families where they’re at and not push people to see things through our lens and to do what we think they should do. How do we really define a “good” death and who really gets to define that? I imagine one’s definition might vary greatly if you’ve always been able to trust healthcare providers to do what is best for you…if you’ve had the privilege of every opportunity and intervention presented to you and can pick and choose what you do and don’t want, than if for most of history and your life you were not entitled to options, you did not have a voice, and healthcare providers were not looking out for your best interest. Sorry, kind of went off on a tangent there Mom, but that’s what moms are for, right?

Mom, doing the work that I do has given me a solid amount of experience with aging and death and dying….and living. I had 4 years under my belt when I helped you die at home on hospice, and now I’ve had 10 more years. However, I know when I counsel my patients and their families on these issues, they must look at me like how would this girl even know? What does she know about navigating aging, death, and dying that she didn’t just read in some book or hear in some college lecture? I notice though, I see them soften when I sometimes bring up navigating your death and my experience with that when I was only 32. I was too young to be caring for a dying mother, but I was old enough to be the adult in charge. I know a little bit about the loss of independence, elder law attorneys, advanced directive paperwork, code status decisions, oncologists, hospitals, Medicare, hospice, making final arrangements, funeral homes…but mostly I know personally how confusing and overwhelming it all is, even to a healthcare provider like myself.

Mom, I want you to know that I believe that our experience together and since then has afforded me a profound understanding and empathy I would not have gained any other way but the hard way. So, although it feels strange to say, thank you Mom, I am so grateful. I have always been passionate about older adults but my experience with you, and your death and dying when I was far too young, I believe has provided me with a small, but unique authority and wisdom on the topic in a way that I feel I can relate to both my patients and their families to guide and support them. That is a gift Mom and a very, very valuable one. This topic, this phase of life is difficult, so uncomfortable we avert our eyes and avoid discussion, as if we are invincible if we just ignore it. This process…life…living…is so very challenging, so very, excruciatingly painful at times, but when we talk about these things, when we open our eyes, and ears, and our hearts to one another, when we see one another and really LOOK at the big picture, to really living, even… and importantly…in our final phase of life? Beautiful.

My God, Mom, the view is just so beautiful.

i carry your heart with me

(i carry it in my heart)

e.e. cummings

Dear Mom: On the 3rd Anniversary of Your Death

Dear Mom,

Wow, it's been 3 years you've been gone. It doesn't seem that much time has passed. The end of 2014 and 2015 weren't really all that bad. I think I was still on autopilot and there was still so much to do. Memories of you were still fresh, our time together recent, I had not truly experienced the loss of you I don't think. People understood my grief, they mourned with me as we passed through milestones...Thanksgiving, Christmas, your birthday, my birthday, the first anniversary of your death. But 2016 was hard Mom, really really hard. I felt that people thought that I should be over you, but I felt like I was really just beginning to feel the loss of you in my life and the permanent void you left. I lived through times where you should've been there with me. But I got through it and 2017 has been better. I'm doing better. If people don't understand my grief, that's ok, because really it's just between you and I. And I'm making it through this endless journey of life without you.

I was looking for a picture of us to post today, something new, something I hadn't already posted over and over and over. I came across my memory book that we were were assigned to make my senior year of high school. While I didn't use a picture from there I read through the page I'd made about you. I didn't really write "about" us or you but I wrote down memories, things I'd never forget in the 18 years I'd spent with you so far. For as long as I can remember I've felt like I knew I was going to lose you when I was still young, before it was common to lose your mother. It's not right to lose a mother at 32, when you were only 68, when the girls were 2 and 3 months old. I know I'm lucky I had you for 32 years but it wasn't enough. This part of my life, being a mother, was just beginning, and oh how I've needed you. But I have our memories, each one I savored. So I'm going to rewrite to you what I wrote in May 2001.

~~~~~~~~

May 2001

Several times I've tried to come up with words describing my Mom and I's relationship but the adjectives to describe her are just not enough. So, I've decided to write a poem (sort of).

I'll always remember you singing to me "You're Something Special."
I'll always remember our Friday night meals.
I'll always remember you waking me up in the morning with, "Good Morning Sunshine!"
I'll always remember our lunches on the picnic table in the summer.
I'll always remember February 29th.
I'll always remember our trips to the grocery store.
I'll always remember how you would get off work just to take us to the pool.
I'll always remember how you decided I was old enough to pack my lunch in 2nd grade.
I'll always remember how you started packing my lunch again senior year.
I'll always remember our cappuccinos.
I'll always remember the way you posed us for impromptu pictures.
I'll always remember helping you water the flowers.
I'll always remember how excited I was when you could pick me up from work.
I'll always remember you telling me at least three times that you loved me before I left for school in the morning.
I'll always remember how you let me play the Super 60s tape over and over and over.
I'll always remember the day you accidentally told me I was your favorite child (you know it wasn't a mistake!).
I'll always remember how you offered to help me with my homework.
I'll always remember our Skip-Bo games.
I'll always remember us skipping to the car.
I'll always remember when I was five years old and you told me you were taking a nap at 2 and to wake you up when the little hand was on the 4, and I sat there and watched the clock for two hours until the little hand was on the 4.
I'll always remember how excited I was to see you when I came back from California.
I'll always remember how you would take me to swing at Westside Park.
I'll always remember how worried you were when I was unhappy or stressed. Some people say that they understand, but you really did understand and felt my pain.
I'll always remember how happy you became when I was happy.
I'll always remember that you told me to do my best, that's all you asked for.
I'll always remember you never pressured me about school.
I'll always remember how proud you are of me.
I'll always remember that you always found a way, nothing was impossible.
I'll always remember the little notes you left me everywhere.
I'll always remember all the bazaars we went to on Saturday mornings.
I'll always remember our trips to South Bend.
I'll always remember two weeks ago when I was in the car with you and Daddy and all I was thinking was how incredibly much I loved you two.

~~~~~~~~

So there it is again Momma, I hope you liked reading it again. Maybe I'll take some time to write about the memories I have of the 14 years I still had with you after this. I still think about you all the time Mom, sometimes I envision your smiling face walking towards me and it brings me comfort.

I miss you Momma.

Love, Danielle

Dear Mom: Missing You

Dear Mom,

It's been over a year now since you passed away. I still haven't written the post about your memorial as well as some follow up posts. All of the sudden, I have great difficulty finding the energy to write blog posts. It is hard to write posts without you alive in them. Hospice stops following a bereaving family after 13 months and I'm past that now. I feel...like I need to...like I should move on. But I feel more sorrow than ever. The blog posts helped to give me purpose and to work through the difficult memories of the summer last year, but now we're past that and I feel empty. I shouldn't feel this way still right? I lost you, I lost my Mom, this is not an unusual loss. I'm a grown woman. Grown women lose their moms, it's a part of life. It's not like I lost my spouse prematurely or I lost a child. Just like your and Dad's divorce two years ago, that loss, just like the loss of you, of a mom, is common. It's ordinary. But Mom, the pain I still feel is extraordinary.

Mom, I just can't believe you're gone. You were just here! You were just here. I stand in my kitchen and I look to the lower cabinet where you crouched down to get out pans to help me cook for Christmas 2013. You were just there. I look to the end of the counter where you always stuck your purse when you came over. It was just there. I sit on the couch in the living room and look over to the chair you sat in a month before Lydia was born as you helped me pick out paint samples for Amelia's big girl room. You were just sitting there. Where did you go? How can you be gone? You were just here. 

Mom, October was a really hard month for me. Work was so hard. There were so many of my patients dying Mom. These were patients who were there for rehab Mom, they were supposed to get better, they were supposed to go home. One Monday morning I came in and three people were dying. I had to call and talk to three families to tell them that despite our best efforts, their mother or father was dying. One son told me his mother used to be such a vivacious woman, that this was not her. I said, I know, I know. Another daughter told me that she didn't want to put her mother through any more aggressive treatment, that she just wanted her to be comfortable. I told her too, I know, I know. I have another patient with ALS who is dying. She is your age, she has a daughter my age. I see the fear in her eyes as she struggles to breathe and it's haunting. I try to convince her to take the medications that will ease her anxiety but she shakes her head no. I think she is afraid she will not wake up if she goes to sleep. Her fear is real because it's true. There are a dozen more stories Mom from October, families who are mad at me, families I can't give answers, families who want better answers, patients I can't help. I want to get up and leave, I want to go home, but I take a deep breath and draw all the strength I can muster to push through the day. Every day is so intense Mom.

I went to church this morning Mom. It's the fourth time I've gone to church this year and the first time in six months. The last time we went to our church was in February and I cried as the choir sang Give Me Jesus.

And when I come to die,
And when I come to die,
When I come to die, give me Jesus.

Give me Jesus,
Give me Jesus,
You can have all this world, 
You can have all this world,
You can have all this world,
But give me Jesus.

I know that's what you would've sang on September 19, 2014 if you could've.

The sermon began and the pastor was starting a new series discussing truths we've adopted as biblical when they're not. Today's sermon topic was the phrase "God will never give you more than you can handle." I started crying as soon as they put the topic on the screen. The pastor discussed how the phrase isn't true and it isn't biblical. Nowhere in the Bible does it say we will not be given more pain than we can handle. He discussed how Paul was given more pain than he could handle:

"We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered in the province of Asia. We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we despaired even of life. Indeed, in our hearts we felt the sentence of death..." 

I do not mean to compare the loss of you Mom to the sufferings of Paul, but his words are the words I feel right now. I found great comfort in the pastor's words and I cried through the whole sermon. He too said the greatest pain in his life, although incredibly common and normal, had been the divorce of his parents when he was 17. I wanted to say, "I know, I know." He said I shouldn't feel guilty that I still feel so much pain and so much sorrow over my losses. He said we would feel pain beyond our abilities, but with the help of others to uplift and support us, we can get through.

I think I'm a lot like you Mom. Just as you seemed to have an underlying depression your whole life, I too have always felt sadness. I remember when I made my poetry notebook my junior year of high school and made the theme "Loss." You found it a few years later and read it. You told me it was depressing and I said I know, but it's how I felt.

I don't think depression is what a lot of people stereotypically think it is Mom. I think you would agree. I am not incapable of getting out of bed, I am not incapable of feeling happy, I am not incapable of socializing and laughing. Everyone knows I love a good joke. But my heart has always felt heavy, always.  I have sought out measures to help me battle this through my life, but Mom, the loss of you, it was too much. It pushed me further than I can bear and I am struggling, more now than ever.

I'm going to post this on the blog and I've probably shared too much, I already feel embarrassed. I worry about the people who will look at this snidely and think that I just need to pull myself together. But I'm also hoping there are people who will read this and will understand what I'm feeling and maybe it will help them to know others feel the same.

Mom, don't you worry about me, I'm gonna pull myself together, I always do. Everything will be okay. I'll be fine, if for nothing more than my girls need a strong mom and I'm going to be a strong mom for them. But strong doesn't mean invincible and I hope to teach them that.

I miss you.

Love, Danielle

"...But this has happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead. He has delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us. On him we have set our hope that he will continue to deliver us, as you help us by your prayers. Then many will give thanks on our behalf for the gracious favor granted us in answer to the prayers of many." 2 Corinthians 1: 8-9

Final Preparations/Viewing/Obituary

It was only just a month prior Mom and I had the fiasco of no one showing up for our appointment to make final arrangements and Mom canceling the follow up appointment. I had left it at that and put it on the back burner for the moment. Before that appointment, as much as Mom hadn't really wanted to go she did make up a list a few things she wanted. As I mentioned in my Final Arrangements post she had crossed off the name of the place and written "Find somewhere else!" This loomed over me her final week of life. Should I find somewhere else? Maybe their mistake wasn't that big of a deal. I had already been in contact with them after all. But then I remembered that one of my "mom friends" I had met through an internet group and who happened to live locally had a husband that was a funeral director at Meeks Mortuary. I contacted her and she graciously helped me and got some information from her husband. I decided to go with Meeks. It gave me comfort to "know someone who knew someone" there. I felt things would be taken care of.

After Mom passed away, Meeks called me that afternoon to set up a time to meet with them to discuss her arrangements. We decided my brothers and I would meet them the next day, Saturday afternoon September 20, 2014. Sean and family were already at Mom's apartment in Muncie, and we drove up from Noblesville and Ryan drove down from Roanoke. Aunt Pat had arrived in town too that day. When we got to Muncie we dropped the kids off at Mom's apartment and Ryan, Sean, and I left for Meeks while Aunt Pat, Teal, and Spencer watched the children. I cannot tell you the last time I was in the same vehicle with both of my brothers. But there we were, traveling together in our hometown to finalize Mom's arrangements.

We arrived at Meeks and met my friend's husband. He helped us go through the details of what needed to be done. We had to give him information in order for them to fill out the death certificate. I had to text Uncle Darrell because they needed the spelling of Mom's mom's maiden name...Grzegorek. He gave me the information for the obituary, it was decided I would write it. On the sheet of paper Mom had listed with ideas for her final arrangements she had listed either cremation or an inexpensive casket. She underlined inexpensive. She said she wanted the cheapest package possible. We decided to go with cremation because she had mentioned wanting her ashes scattered in Lake Michigan if she was cremated. A step up from just basic cremation was a package that included a private family viewing. I'm not sure my brothers and I needed this, but I did it for her brothers, especially for Uncle Darrell. I felt he would want to see her one more time. My friend's husband then led us to the room with urns to choose from. Since we were planning to spread her ashes he suggested one of the biodegradable urns. There were only 3 or 4 of them. One was an American flag picture, I believe one was flowers, and one was a water and sunset scene...we chose that one. It reminded us of Lake Michigan.

As they had instructed I had brought her clothes for the viewing. I chose a green knit top I knew she loved and looked beautiful in. I remembered she had worn it to Amelia's 2nd birthday party just 6 months prior....she had been well then, or we thought, she had helped me so much with that party.

I picked out a skirt to match, a hat, her glasses, a pair of earrings, the same necklace she's wearing in that picture, her Mom's engagement ring and the butterfly ring I had given her. 

~~~

The next day we drove back to Muncie to meet everyone at Meeks for Mom's viewing. It was Spencer, Amelia, Lydia, and I, Carly and Ryan, Sean, Teal, Liam, and Noey, Uncle Darrell and Aunt Janet, Uncle Michael and Tammy, and Aunt Pat.  My cousin Jason and his wife Alyssa were coming but they were running a little late. We all went up to the room to see Mom. It was so incredibly odd to see her laying there in a makeshift casket. She did not look like herself. Her make up was all wrong, her nails were painted, her lips were in a firm line. I know it is what it is and I don't blame anyone, what could I really expect, but it was hard to look at her. It did not look like my Mom. I was glad then that we had decided not to do a public viewing. She wouldn't have been happy with the way she looked. I touched her hand and moved quickly on. 

I went on and talked to other family members. I have no idea about what. My cousin Jason and Alyssa soon came. Alyssa looked absolutely devastated, I could tell she had been crying...hard. I hugged her but didn't speak to her much. I don't know if I was worried about upsetting her more or maybe I did it out of self preservation. I wasn't ready to cry like that, but it moved me deeply as it did anyone who shed tears over my mother that people had such an extraordinary love for her.  I had coffee with her a few months ago and she told me what upset her the most was that she had never been able to give her one last hug. The last time she had seen her was July 4th at the birthday party. Alyssa and Jason had hosted and she felt she only quickly hugged my Mom goodbye. She really just wanted one last good hug.

I continued on talking to other family members. The kids were running around and we let them pretty much, it was nice to have the whole room to ourselves without worrying about keeping things composed and forcing children to be in line. 

I looked back to Mom and saw her brother Darrell kneeling beside her and talking to her. This touched me deeply as well. Her brothers had such a great love for her and him kneeling on the floor beside her was such a moving expression of this. He talked to her for some time, I don't know about what. 

He later mentioned to me the idea that if we were to spread her ashes maybe we could do it over the next July 4th for their birthdays up in St. Joe. I had not thought of this and thought it was wonderful idea. We did not do it this last July 4th...the first birthday without her, it was too hard...but hopefully we can do it in 2016. 

When it was over everyone left. Aunt Pat and I lagged behind so I could ask them to make leaflets or whatever they're called for her memorial. I had forgotten about this but Aunt Pat reminded me so we picked them out together. Before we left they gave us her jewelry and her hat back, we donated her glasses. For some reason I thought we would get her clothes back but then I realized that didn't make any sense.

We went back to the apartment and we had a party of sorts with appetizers and wine that Sean and Teal had purchased. 

I went home that night and typed out her obituary. It was not hard, it only took me maybe 10 minutes. The words came to me easily. It was simple, but I felt captured who she was. It was published in the Muncie Star Press Tuesday September 23, 2014.

September 19, 2014: The End

I woke up very early Friday morning about 4 AM. I went out to the living room to check on mom and Carly. Carly was curled up sleeping in the recliner. Mom was lying on the couch where we had placed her. She had begun a low gurgling in her throat...the death rattle as we nurses call it. The true term is terminal secretions and happens near the end of the dying process when the person has lost the ability to swallow. I got the hospice comfort kit and opened up the atropine drops as this is what they're for. I placed a few drops in my mom's mouth and I went back to sleep.

I awoke about three hours later and Carly and I both sat at the table eating the donuts Ella Mae had brought over the day before. I could tell mom was not going to wake up. Mom's friend Nancy was going to come that morning, she asked us if we needed anything. I said we were good, but she did bring us McDonald's coffee. After she gave us our coffee, she pulled up the glider next to mom, she opened her Bible and began reading it to her and praying for her. This touched me deeply and I thought, that's what I want when I die.

 I went to go take a shower and get dressed. I was going to leave, I had decided. I had spent a week watching my mother die and I had begun to think maybe mom was waiting on me to leave. She would be safe and taken care of with Sean and Carly there. Andy and Nancy would be there too. Nancy, being a nurse, gave me even more comfort that is was okay to leave.

Sean tells me he got up that morning and got ready at the hotel. He remembers going down to breakfast by himself and looking around at everyone there. Everyone was getting ready for their daily activities oblivious and not knowing what my brother was going to do. He was preparing himself to spend the day with his mom as she lay dying. Everyone bustled around him. Life goes on.

Andy came over as well as Pastor Tim who prayed for all of us and for mom. As he left it was late morning and Sean and his family came. Pastor Tim stopped them and asked if they had been in there yet. Sean said he had been there last night, he was prepared for what to expect as he walked through the door. They walked through the door and went to her. Little Noey hung back not understanding why Mams was making those noises.

When they came I went back to her room and quickly typed up a list of care instructions:

1. You can give the Roxanol (morphine) 0.5ml every 1 hour as needed, I've been giving it to mom probably about every 3 hours. If she should wake up, I would give her some, or if she anticipates moving to the recliner I would give her some.
2. The atropine drops are to help dry up the secretions she has in her throat, you can give 5 drops every 1 hours as needed.
3. If she would wake up, I usually ask her if she needs to go to the bathroom and will set her on the bedside commode and change her Depends even if they are dry. If she would like to change clothes I have those set out. If she wakes up she usually likes to sit in the recliner or maybe just move to the other end of the couch. To get her from the commode to the recliner I've been using the wheelchair.
4. I'm using the mouth swabs (green swabs) to moisten her lips and tongue as needed. There is also an antiseptic wash I've been using. Also, a mouth moisturizer for her lips or chapstick.
5. If she should wake up I would give her a Zofran tablet, they are disintegrating pills so just put one in her mouth with a sip of liquid.
6. Anything she drinks she will likely gag on but it's ok, if she wants to drink let her drink, it's for her comfort. There's some chicken broth in the fridge if she wants something to eat, I usually just warm it up in a coffee cup in the microwave. She likes a paper towel around anything she drinks. If she should want anything to drink, I would try to sit her up some if she's on the couch.
7. If she should pass, call me and I can call hospice, they will call the mortuary. If you need the number for hospice it's on the fridge.
8. If her phone rings it is probably hospice, just answer it, to answer it you press the Send button.
9. Please call me more anything.

I did not think she would wake up, but I wanted them to be prepared if she did and for her to be comfortable. My mom was a strong, extraordinary woman, it would've been just like her to wake up from dying and hand out some instructions.

After Sean arrived and I had given both verbal and the written instructions, I did not wait long to leave. I gave her some morphine and I cleaned out her mouth and moistened her lips. Before I left I kneeled over her, I said, "Goodbye Momma, I love you." And for the first time that day to my surprise she opened her beautiful fading blue eyes, looked at me, and mouthed silently the words, "I love you too." Those were the last words my mom spoke to me.

And I left. Without second thoughts, without hesitation, I knew she was going to die and I left. A thousand times since I have second guessed that decision, cried and screamed at myself for leaving her. However, I reflect back on that day and how sure I was that I was making the right decision and that brings me comfort. I will always have some regret for leaving her, for not being there for her final breath, but I know I made the right decision.

Teal and the kids left with me too. We could've traveled back to Noblesville together, but I asked that we drive separately. I needed to be alone. Teal understood. I drove back listening to Pink's "Just Give Me a Reason" over and and over again. I still listen to that song over and over. It has nothing to do with my mom dying, nothing to do with anything in my life really, but it resonates with me.

We went back to Noblesville stopping at McDonald's for some food. We ate at the house while the kids ran around. Spencer was there and Kristina had come over. I started what was the first of many loads of laundry.

I forget who texted me but they wanted suction for mom. I called Nancy and asked what was going on. The atropine drops were not enough for the secretions and they were beginning to overtake her. Nancy thought some suction might help. They had laid her on her side and this seemed to help too. I called hospice and let the nurse know what was going on. The nurse was surprised at her condition, but I told her I was not. Mom had put on a grand show for her on Monday. She said she would call the oxygen company to get suction there as soon as possible. I asked her if she could go make a visit since I wasn't there and she said she would.

I went back downstairs and I told Spencer and Kristina what was going on. I got clothes out of the dryer and put wet clothes in there and a new load of dirty clothes in the washer. I took the basket of the girls clothes to the dining room table and began to fold them. I stopped and went into the kitchen. My phone lit up on the dining room table, Kristina picked it up and said, "It's Carly."

And I knew why she was calling. 

I picked up the phone and said hello. Carly said, "Danielle...I wanted to call and tell you...your Mom has passed away."

Hospice had arrived after she died and they said  they would call the mortuary. Carly asked me if I wanted them to keep her body there until I got back. I told them no, that wasn't necessary, the mortuary can take her.

I got off the phone and told Spencer and Kristina. I cried but only for a brief moment, there was not time to cry, there was so much to do. I had told Carly to tell Ryan to please let people know. I didn't have the strength. I knew I would cry. I desperately wanted to call and tell my dad and mom's brothers, but I knew that that would break me.

Teal was asleep on the couch upstairs with Noey. At first, I thought I would just let her rest, she had gotten very little sleep the last two days. But then I remembered that she was more than just one of my best friends, she was Sean's wife and Sean would need to hear from her. So I went upstairs and woke her up and told her the news.

It took us about an hour but we finished up what we needed to do and we all headed back to Muncie. The mortuary had called me and I set up a time to meet with them on Saturday with my brothers. A woman from the church was scheduled to bring us pizza that night. She called me expressing her condolences and said she didn't want to intrude but wanted to know if we still wanted pizza. I said we absolutely still wanted pizza. She laughed.

We got back to her apartment and walked in. My mom who had lay dying on the couch when I left, was gone. The couch was empty.

We ate pizza and Sean told me the events of how it had happened. I called him again yesterday so he could give me the details again, this time with a perspective from a year passing by.

He said after I left, everyone had been near her but after they laid her on her side and she seemed more comfortable Andy, Nancy, Carly decided to sit at the table and eat a late lunch. Sean sat on the floor beside our mom. He was holding her hand when she opened her eyes. He tells me he didn't tell anyone she had opened her eyes. Sean and Teal's son Liam has severe autism and he said that when he engages with you, you don't go do something else or do anything, you just engage. And that is what he did with our mom, he locked eyes and engaged. The two sets of eyes that never saw eye to eye their entire relationship engaged and saw eye to eye. How incredible I reflect back on that day and that Sean was there with her as she died. The son who had left to spread his wings across the country in California over a decade ago had returned home. It was not Ryan and I who lived fairly close by and were part of her day to day life, it was Sean who was with her as she died. While never quite understanding Sean, she loved him fiercely, she was his biggest defender when he would go against the grain with others.

Sean tells me that at first the expression on her face seemed one of anger, but it was not. He describes it as "intense resignation." Death is what had awoken her and made her open her eyes. She had tried so hard to fight it, but there it was, as it will be for all of us one day. He rubbed her head and told her that it was okay, she could go on home, she had fought a good fight, she needed to go be with her parents. We loved her and we would be okay. Her eyes softened and she stopped breathing as she gazed at Sean. She passed away at 3:39 PM.

Sean called Nancy to her, to confirm what he suspected, that she had died. She agreed and Sean placed his hand over her face and shut her eyes. She was there for his first breath and he was there for her last. Sean tells me he walked outside for some fresh air and to escape the heaviness of the room. The day was sunny, the birds were singing, the wind was blowing. Life goes on.

The children played as we chatted at the table. Sean made a post to Facebook to let people know, as did I. I found a picture of her and her granddaughter Caitlyn who had passed away at 11 months old from spinal muscular atrophy.

The kids had taken off the cushions on Mom's couch and were jumping on it. We let them. Sean later made this post on Facebook:

Sean and Teal and the kids were going to back to the hotel. They would be checking out and staying in mom's apartment. Carly headed back to Roanoke and Spencer and I headed back to Noblesville. There would be so much to do in the upcoming days.

I went to bed that night, the bed I had not rested in since her decline had started, and reflected on what I had been through. My mom was gone in an extraordinarily short time from lung cancer. In just a mere 4 months, a season, she had gone from:

This

To this:

The clocks, they did not stop. Oh how I wanted them to, but they did not. There would be no time to cry for many months, there still has not really been any time to cry. Crying will make me tired and there is no time to be tired. There are many days I wish my heart would've stopped beating with hers, maybe it did, but life goes on. We have to hold our heads up and breathe through the enormity and the beauty of it all. 

I laid down in bed that night, and I shut my eyes and I went to sleep for the first time in a world without my mom.

~~~

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message She Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

She was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

--W.H. Auden ("he" changed to "she")

Stop All The Clocks Video

(If you have a 1:21 please watch the video)

Thursday September 18, 2014

Wednesday night was the same as Tuesday night, Mom did not move. Shelli brought me McDonald's for breakfast that morning and we chatted at the dining room table. Oh, how I grew to love these women who were my Mom's friends from church. What an amazing circle of friends I learned she had. What an amazing church Trinity Baptist in Muncie is. I do not use this word lightly, but my Mom and we all, were blessed to have them. What a profound difference they made in my family's life.

Sean and his family were flying in that day. Mom woke up at one point that morning and I repeated this news to her as I had told her the night before. "Am I really that bad Danielle?" she asked. I told her that they just really wanted to see her.

I talked to my brother Sean on the phone before writing tonight's post and he recounted the details of his experience to me. He told me Wednesday he had been at work at Humboldt University as a groundskeeper. He was mowing the lawns when I called to tell him I thought Mom only had 24-48 hours left. He had been talking to Teal as they debated what to do thinking about the drive, the cost, leaving their jobs suddenly, the kids, the dogs. He thought about the fact that he last talked to Mom on the phone, that was their last conversation. It didn't seem right that it end like that. He stopped mowing and began talking to a friend of his that worked in human resources. He told her what was going on and the turmoil he was experiencing. She told him, "Well, you only have one Mom." It started to rain which was surprising, it had not rained since last winter, they were in a drought. It started pouring. He could not mow. Sean and Teal decided at that point they needed to go. They got the kids and went home and packed up the kids and dropped the dogs off at friends. They left in the early evening and began the 5 hour drive to San Francisco. It continued to pour and the drive was treacherous as they traveled down the 101 through the forest and mountains. They could barely see. He remembers that the rain had stopped before they got to San Francisco and how beautiful the city looked at night as the drove in over the Golden Gate bridge. San Francisco was one of Mom's favorite cities. They pulled into the long term parking at the airport and they moved the luggage around and slept in the back of the van Wednesday night. They flew out early Thursday morning.

Thursday morning my Mom's friend Ella Mae came over bringing us food so there would be stuff to eat when Sean and his family arrived. I wondered if Aunt Pat had asked her to do this. Aunt Pat hadn't been able to come yet because she had to have a medical procedure. Ella Mae and I chatted in the kitchen and she was telling me about how the surgeon she used to work for Dr. Ansari was so ill. I believe he had Parkinson's as well as the dementia that comes with that. I think he may have been around Mom's age. He passed less than a month after her. Life is so short.

Spencer and Amelia came to get the breastmilk for Lydia I'd pumped and to bring the car seats so I could put them in Mom's car for Sean's kids to use. I remember Ella Mae joking as I was packing up all the bags of milk into the cooler if I thought I had enough. I knew it wasn't enough, it was never enough.

Pretty soon, there were a lot of people in Mom's apartment. Mom's friends came over, they wanted to clean out her fridge and freezer as there was so much leftover food and things that would never be eaten. I joked that as soon as they did that Mom would surely want something from there. Pastor Tim came and prayed for Mom and all of us. I believe it was that morning too that Mom's old neighbor from Woodbridge Cristie came over to see Mom. She had tears in her eyes as she finished up her conversation with Mom and said goodbye.

The hospice aide came and Mom got up. She was agreeable to getting cleaned up and the aide took her back to her bathroom. Amelia had sprawled out on Mom's living room carpet with all the toys Mom kept for the kids there. I went out to get the car out of the garage but couldn't find the opener. My Mom seemed to be in her own world at that time, but surprisingly I asked her where the opener was and she was accurately able to tell me where it was. I went out and put the car seats in.

Carly called and told me that she would most definitely be coming to stay with me that night and however long I needed. She was going to drive to Indianapolis to pick up Sean and Teal and the kids at the airport and would bring them back to the apartment and then would stay with me. I was so relieved.

Mom and the aide came back out from the bathroom. I asked the aide if Mom had voided. She said, "Yes, small, dark," and I nodded. Spencer and Amelia got ready to leave and I told Amelia to say bye to Mams. To my surprise she ran up to Mom in the recliner and jumped in her lap and gave her a big hug and a kiss. I was surprised, Mom did not look like the Mams she knew. If Amelia had been any older, I think she would've been scared of Mom, but she ran and embraced her with her childhood innocence.

They soon left and Sharon came as well as our family friend Barb from First Baptist. Sharon told me I should get out of the house for a little while, get some air. I decided to take her up on it and go to Target. Before I left Mom thought it was funny that Sharon and Barb were wearing very similar outfits and that they looked like twins. She instructed me to take a picture with my phone. After I took their picture, Mom looked at Sharon and said, "Would you please take a picture of me and my caregiver?" And so we took a picture. Our last picture together.

I left and went to Target. I stared and stared at the picture. Mom looked so different. I wanted to post it to Facebook, but I didn't know if I should. I bought a little jacket and hairbrush for my niece Noey and a vest for my nephew Liam. I worried it might be colder than they expected being from California. I stopped at the hospital to get more of the kits to clean Mom's mouth out with and to keep it moist. I sat in the parking lot and called Dad. He answered hesitantly and I told him everything was okay, Mom was still here and he breathed a sigh of relief. 

I came back to the apartment and Sharon left. Sean and family had arrived in town and were going to get settled in the hotel first. I told them to give me about 15 minutes notice so I could make sure was cleaned up and ready to see them. 

They all soon arrived with Carly behind them. Mom was surprised. She just stared in wonderment. Sean and Teal dropped their bags and sat down on the floor at my Mom's feet by the recliner. Teal had been called on the way to Muncie and had been told she was being offered a job at Berkeley. It was an extraordinary opportunity for her that she had interviewed for the previous week. She and Sean were ecstatic. They excitedly told Mom the news. Mom told Teal that she was just amazing. She kept telling them over and over that they were amazing, that this was just amazing that they were here.

Mom told me to come to her and she could hardly make out her words, but she was pointing to the freezer. She told me to check what was in the freezer so that we all could have some dinner. Of course. She was hospitable to the end. I told her Ella Mae had brought over food so we were okay. I hoped she wouldn't press it any further since the freezer had been cleared out. 

I asked her if she'd like something to eat and she said yes. I made her some chicken broth and tried to give it to her, but she gagged on it. It was too hard for her to eat. She was aspirating. Teal gave her some sips of tea. 

We all ate dinner except Sean, he stayed on the floor right beside Mom holding her hand.

After dinner, the kids were playing around. I was sitting on the couch and Liam squealed his happy scream. Mom looked at me wide eyed. I knew the sound must have been so intense to her. I told Sean I thought it was probably time for them to go and he agreed.

I had thought about it while they were there and I'd decided that on Friday I was going to go back to Noblesville for a bit. I had been gone a week and I knew there would be tons of laundry to do and I needed to get some things for myself. But mainly, I wondered if Mom was hanging on for me. Maybe...maybe she needed me to leave. So, I asked Sean and Teal if it would be okay if I left the next day for a few hours. Teal and the kids could come too and play with Amelia. Sean would stay with Mom. They agreed it was best.

They soon left and Carly and I got Mom ready for bed. Surprisingly she was stronger than she had been and she moved easily with us to the wheelchair, to the commode, and to the bed. We laid her down and Carly got ready for bed too. Carly came out and I told her I had been sleeping in the recliner, she could sleep in Mom's bed. She told me that I needed a good night's sleep and I should take the bed. I did not protest, it would be nice to sleep in a bed in a dark room instead of in the recliner with the living room lit up as Mom liked it.

Mom had fallen asleep, but before I went to bed I kneeled down beside her and whispered to her that it was okay for her to go. We loved her so much, but it was okay, she needed to go on home.

1 day left

Wednesday September 17, 2014

Tuesday night was different from the previous nights. Mom did not move at all. She did not get sick, she didn't need to void, and she didn't change position.

I had told my Mom's friends I would not be going back to work at this time. They didn't need to come, but they still came. They still followed the schedule they had created. Andy brought me a Panera souffle on Wednesday morning. I'd never had one before and it was very good. Then her friend Diane came, then Andy's husband Stu and Tim, the pastor of Mom's church came. We all sat around in the living room while Mom slept on the couch. It was so nice to have people around. We talked about how this was getting hard on her friends and they were unsure how to care for her at this point so they were glad I was there. I forgot not everyone is a nurse. Mom's care was fairly easy to me, it was second nature. As a nurse I had been trained for the daily care she needed and as a geriatric nurse practitioner I knew what to do medically and what to expect. As Stu remarked, "This is your bread and butter." And it was, this is what I do. How fortunate I was.

They all left after awhile and Sharon came. I texted people updates. I told them that at this point I thought Mom had 24-48 hours left. My Mom's brother Darrell called with some panic in his voice. He was at work in Indianapolis, but wanting to know if he should come. I reassured him it was ok, he had said his goodbyes and Mom was mostly just sleeping now. I would let him know about any updates. Sean seemed still very anxious about the situation and wanted to be in Indiana so badly. I tried to reassure him too, but it did not help. Looking at my phone bill from that day I can see I talked to Sean multiple times. Carly was flying back from San Francisco that day and she told me she would come be with me. My Mom's friend Cheryl came over and Sharon and I talked with her a while. I don't think Mom woke up at all during her visit. Sean called me again, he said they were coming. They were going to drive the five hours to San Francisco that evening and then would fly into Indiana the next day.

I called the hospice nurse because I had used the small amount of liquid morphine that was in the comfort kit hospice sent. She said she would call more into the pharmacy at the hospital. Sharon said she would go get it for me. I think it was around that time Carly texted me to tell me that she wouldn't be able to come that night. She had to do some things with her boys that night since she had been gone for 5 days. I said ok. I was going to be alone again that night. Spencer had the girls, he couldn't come and Kristina had to work. It was a week day, most everyone had to work or had families to be with. The pastor's wife offered to come spend the night, but I turned her down. She had four children and was pregnant, I didn't want to bother her. I crumpled to the floor in the hallway, feeling weak and alone from the enormity of it all. I sat there in the hallway and called my Dad. Tears streamed silently down my face as I talked to him. I'm not sure he knew I was crying. I updated him and told him I was stressed. He said he would fly in from Florida if I needed him. I know he desperately wanted to be there for me. I told him it was ok, everything would work out. He said, "That's what you always say." And I said, "It always does."

Sharon soon came back with Mom's medicine. It was about late afternoon/early evening and to our surprise Mom woke up and I mean woke up. What follows I described in my eulogy at Mom's memorial so I'll pull the details from there.

I rushed to Mom's side as she had woken up and first she told me to get out of her face. She sat up and oriented herself to her surroundings and apologized for snapping at me. She then had some requests to make. First she wanted a glass of water, a bottle of water, and her glass of tea. She wanted all of them on her bedside table and she told me not to move them until she said so. I knew my Mom was a particular person, but I did not realize how much until I had to do things for her. Then she wanted to be moved to the recliner. She absolutely insisted the legs be put back on her wheelchair. When I said this would make things more difficult she conceded but once she was in the recliner she insisted the legs be put on the wheelchair and the wheelchair be placed next to the recliner where she could reach it even though it would've been impossible for her to get in it herself at this point. She then requested the instructions to the wheelchair. There were no instructions. This greatly dissatisfied her and she would not accept that I said it was ok because I knew how to use the wheelchair. She asked what she was supposed to do if she was alone, she would need the instructions. I told her she would no longer be alone and she was not satisfied with that answer. Finally, I offered to write up instructions on how to use the wheelchair. She paused and thought about it a moment before finally saying, "Fine, but make it brief." It was impossible not to laugh and she sighed and said, "Well at least I'm still funny."

Sharon left to go eat some dinner and then head to Trinity for bible study. Her friend Barb from church stopped by for awhile. My Mom always loved hearing about her grandson Winston who had faced many medical adversities. She would always tell me stories of how impressive his skills were and what an amazing family they were.

Her friend left and I sat at the dining time. Mom kind of drifted off. I told her that Sean and his family were flying in. I had been nervous to tell her this. Would she know what this meant? Mom's death was a reality she never faced. She just looked at me like she didn't understand what I had said.

She fell asleep and when night fell I decided to get her up to try to use the bathroom and go to bed. I woke her up. She was terribly weak. I managed to get her into the wheelchair with a little help from her and onto the commode. She did not void. I tried to have her help me lift her to the couch, but she couldn't . She was so weak, and so I picked her up the best I could and carried her.

2 days left 

"The son went to his mother.

He picked her up and rocked her

back and forth, back and forth,

back and forth.

And he sang this song:

I'll love you forever,

I'll like you for always,

As long as I'm living

my Mommy you'll be"

I'll Love You Forever by Robert Munsch