400 Luminaries

 

Last Wednesday night was a night that will be imbedded in my mind for years to come.  The funeral home where mom was waked held their 17^th Annual Luminary Memorial.  Four hundred luminaries each one representing a loved one who had passed and been waked at this home in the past twelve months.  (Actually I was told that about 30 of them were from previous years where the family has asked the funeral home to keep their loved one on their list again this year.)

Several weeks ago I received a letter about this upcoming event.  The funeral home offered to allow loved ones to stop by and pick up the white paper bag that had their loved one’s name on the front prior to the event to decorate if the family chose to do so.  They requested that we return the bags prior to the event so each one could be properly placed between the other luminaries.

Decorating the luminary was a privilege that I did not take lightly recognizing that the luminary would be my Christmas card to mom.  I knew this special event held right before the holidays begin would be a part of the healing process for me.  

One Sunday I spent most of my day at Archiver’s trying to come up with something beautiful that represented mom.  I am no stranger to Archiver’s as I spent many days there in the past creating special keepsakes for my dear family members.  What I have always found is the support of Archiver’s staff is immeasurable.  Once I share my vision with them, they always help me make my vision a reality.  As I was trying to explain what I envision on this project tears ran down my eyes.  The woman helping me hugged me and told me that they just celebrated her mother’s 95^th Birthday.  She shared her fear of losing her mom some day and stated that she would do anything she could to help me make this luminary one that my mom and family would be proud of.

Mom loved anything that sparkled:  jewelry, clothes, fireworks, etc.  So I knew I wanted to place gems on her luminary bag for the light to reflect and bounce off them.  Using a current photo of mom was important too.  The photo I selected represented the peace mom was having at the end and the joy she felt when she was with her children.  Truly this photo is one of my personal favorites. 

 

The meteorologists had called for rain that afternoon.  Although the meteorologists in Chicago do their best to predict the weather, they are often wrong.  Unfortunately, last Wednesday night they were right.  Ron, Aunt Jay, and I arrived at 4:30PM early enough so that I would be given the opportunity to light mom’s luminary. Many people were there already lighting their loved ones bag.  The luminaries surrounded the walkways and were placed alphabetical making the task of finding your loved one’s bag easy. 

The privilege of lighting mom’s luminary was another gift of closure.  The gems on her bag sparkled.  Mom’s face was aglow.  A warmth sensation filled my body like a huge hug from mom.   In my eyes, mom’s bag stood out amongst all the others.   No matter where I stood I could see her. 

Sandy and Pete arrived shortly thereafter.  People continued to arrive and socialize.

 Due to the cold and drizzly night many people chose to wait for the minister’s talk at 6PM by going in the funeral home for homemade cookies, cake and coffee.  All their rooms had flat screen TVs showing Miracle on 34^th Street and there were several chairs available to accommodate anyone interested in staying out of the rain and cold.  Aunt Jay stayed inside watching the movie until the ceremony began when everyone stepped outside to hear and view the memorial.  Hundreds of people stood outside: some with umbrellas, some with hoods, and some underneath the porch. 

 

The entire ceremony was beautiful. The minister’s prayer and reflection was first.  Followed by a horn tribute for our veterans included the unfolding and folding of our American Flag.  Part of the ceremony included four members of the funeral staff each person lighting one of the four candles as the owner’s son read the following. 

 

 

                                                             A Holiday Memorial

As we light these four candles in honor of you, we light one for our grief, one for our courage, one for our memories and one for our love.

This candle represents our grief.  The pain of losing you is intense.  It reminds us of the depth of our love for you.

This candle represents our courage. .  .   To confront our sorrow.  .   .  To comfort each other.  .  .  To change our lives.

This light is in your memory.  .  .  Times we laughed.  .  .   Times we cried.  .  .  Times we were angry with each other.  .  .  Silly things you did.  .  . The caring and joy you gave us.

This light is the light of love.  As we enter this holiday season, day by day we cherish the special place in our hearts that will always be reserved for you.  We thank you for the gift your living brought to each of us. 

We love you! 

During the memorial you could see and feel the love in everyone gathered there. After the ceremony was over, we stayed and shared stories.   Having the opportunity to start the holiday season by first remembering mom was a blessing. 

 

Remembering Mom on Her Birthday

Earlier this week Jamie invited me to meet him on Thursday at mom’s bench where we could celebrate mom’s birthday eating McDonald’s double cheeseburgers and reminiscing about old times. 

When mom had passed a special friend had sent a McDonald’s gift card. Mom’s birthday was definitely the perfect time to use the thoughtful gift.

Thursday, October 3^rd was mom’s birthday.  She would have been 86 years old.  Time sure has flown by . . . I can hardly believe that she has been gone over three months. Sometimes it is hard to just simply believe she is gone at all.  My heart aches missing her when I dwell on that thought.

When I opened my email this morning, someone had sent me a beautiful slideshow.  A slide stated, “There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you want to pick them from your dreams and hug them.”  When I read this slide, I felt that it was no coincidence that this message came to me today because that is exactly how I am feeling.  I would love to have one more hug from mom especially on her birthday.

Our weather in Chicago has been exceptional recently.  Unfortunately, Thursday late morning’s weather was not.  So we chose to do the next best thing; we ate at mom’s favorite McDonald’s where my brothers and I had taken mom so many times.  After enjoying our double cheeseburgers, we drove to mom’s bench.

 

 

Once we arrived the rain was down to a light drizzle.  All the colors in the garden seemed so beautiful and crisp; the leaves were starting to cover the walkway. 

 

As we strolled towards the gazebo and looked towards the pier, mom’s bench was now facing the fountains in the pond.  Since the bench is not nailed down, other families can move the bench to accommodate their group if they choose to.  The bench looked good there too. Due to the rain we did not sit on the bench.

 

Jamie brought Birthday balloons and tied them to her bench.  He wanted everyone who visited the pond to know that mom’s birthday was today.  We chuckled that we did not know due to the inclement weather just how many if anyone would visit.

 

 

Staring out onto the pond, we both prayed mom’s favorite prayer which had given her so much peace during her most difficult days: 

Mom is the Light.

 

The Light is within Mom.

 

The Light moves throughout Mom.

The Light surrounds Mom.

The Light comforts Mom.

The Light gives Mom peace.

Mom is the Light. 

We know when a loved one passes, that everyone goes through stages. The wounds and emptiness linger, but the feelings of deep love prevail.  We shared some of our different and similar stages of grief and loss.   We also know that time will heal all of our hurts.

 

When we started to leave I said, “Sure wish we saw our butterfly.”  No sooner did Jamie agree with me when I noticed the butterfly appear at a distance. However Jamie looked up and did not see the butterfly as it moved quickly in and out of the flowers and bushes.  I hoped God would show him the butterfly, too.  We were both relieved and delighted when the butterfly reappeared.   Surprisingly one little white butterfly made such a huge impact on our visit.  We both want to believe the butterfly is a sign from mom letting us know she is well and missing us too.

 

We hoped that mom was having a wonderful birthday in heaven playing pinochle with all our family members who previously passed.

 

 

When we were at our cars, we looked back at the pier.  We could see mom’s birthday balloons waving to us.  Thank God for the beautiful setting with mom’s memorial bench. What a wonderful way to remember mom. We still can feel her presence there; I believe we always will. 

Happy Birthday, Mom!  

We love and miss you very much!

 

 

The Bench

 

 

Heading towards the gazebo to see mom’s memorial for the first time, I had a picture in my mind of how wonderful her bench would be on the fishing pier where we could look out at the pond and the water fountains as she and I, as well as other family members, had done so many times.  

Since going to mom’s burial site is too far to be convenient, our family wanted some place special where we could go when we needed to feel her presence.

My excitement turned to surprise and disappointment when I saw that there was only the original bench on the pier.  Mom’s bench was supposed to be positioned next to that bench.  Instead mom’s bench was placed at the entrance of the pier facing the walkway and looking away from the pond.  I must not of made myself clear how important the placement and direction of the bench was to us.”

 

Confused I immediately started snapping photos and texted those to Jerome, Jamie and Ron to let them know that there must have been a misunderstanding I would never have suggested facing the bench that way.   I wanted everyone visiting to sit and enjoy what we found so soothing and comforting.

While I took the time to text, I sat down on mom’s bench. Although not the scenery I had planned on looking at, the view was quite beautiful as I gazed at the gazebo, the gorgeous wild flowers and roses.

A father and his mentally challenged teenage son clasping fishing poles passed me on their way towards the pier.  The father stopped and mentioned to me that his son’s grandmother lived in one of the homes surrounding the pond.  He shared that he and his son would come and attempt to fish wherever they visited her.  The son was clearly excited to be fishing with his dad. 

The son wanted to know why I was sitting on the bench.  I mentioned that this was a special bench in my mom’s memory.  He asked me where she was and I told him heaven.  He said something funny.  “Your mom went to heaven and left you her bench.” 

I smiled and said, “Something like that . . . what she left me were memories.  When I sit here I remember them.   I showed him the gold plate with her name on the bench.” 

He went off to tell his father what I had just told him.  “Dad, that lady is sitting on her mom’s bench.”  The dad smiled back at me.  The son hurried back over by me and said, “I didn’t know that bench was your mom’s.  I promise I won’t sit on it.” 

“Of course you can sit on it whenever you want.”

“I can!”

The son ran back to his father saying, “Dad, the lady says I can sit on the bench when I want.” Most of the son’s time was spent running back and forth to me asking questions. Their conversation and the son’s excitement made me smile and I bet mom was smiling, too.

While watching them, I was remembering mom telling me how much she loved fishing here with her friends from the supportive living facility.  I can still see the bright smile on her face when she spoke about the huge fish she caught.   I remember how proud mom was to show me the photo of her and the fish.  Although she spoke of that day often, I have never seen anyone out there fishing until this day.

 

The father and his son did not stay long.  The father may have thought that his son was bothering me asking so many questions over and over again, but I did not mind.  I was enjoying just sitting there.

As they walked away, my eyes focused on the gazebo where a mother and daughter were sitting looking out at the pier.  Funny that I had never seen another mother and daughter doing what we used to do although I am sure many do.  We were the mother and daughter gazing out at the pier and the beauty surrounding this lovely area. The mother was in a wheelchair just like mom had been and the daughter was sitting on her right side just like I used too. 

 

I could not help thinking about the Friday before mom passed.  We sat there like we did so many times before.  Mom felt good.  There was no indication that this would be our last time there together.  Our visit was like so many other nice visits.

Then something magical happened: it dawned on me that the bench was exactly where mom placed it.   I believe she wanted her family not to focus on just the beauty of the pond, but to take in everything especially where we sat and remember our times together. 

While I sat reminiscing about some of our times in the gazebo, I saw first one then two white butterflies frolicking around the flowers and each other.  As hard as I tried to take photos of them, I could not seem to see them through my camera lenses.  Both butterflies seemed to dance around me and fly away.

 

On my way out, I stopped inside the gazebo where I imagined mom and me.  I said out loud, “Nice going, Mom, I’m so glad you approve of the bench.  You picked the perfect view.”  

 

 

Grandma's Baby

 

Today we celebrate the life of one great puppy, companion, son, and sweetest tough guy we have ever known.  He was given many names BaciBoy, Mr. B, LoverBoy, Sweet Boy, Mommies’ Baby, Daddy’s Tough guy, Our little man, Stud, Studmaster and Grandma’s Boy.

Ron and I hit the jackpot when Baci became part of our family.  From the moment we laid eyes on him, ‘He was ours and we were his’.

We felt blessed each and every day with him.  We thank God for giving him to us for the reason that we needed him as much as he needed us.

He had gorgeous Big Brown Eyes that made everyone comment (even grown men) how handsome he was.  No one could help but fall in love with him. Even his vet called him a stud from the start.  I would melt every time he looked at me. Ron always accused me of spoiling him.  Ron was right and Baci knew he was spoiled.  Both of his grandmas’ loved holding him and he soaked up all their attention.

 

Baci was a special needs puppy from an early age. We thank God for giving him to us for the reason that we needed him as much as he needed us.

Within the first three months of his life, he fell four feet and broke his jaw.  His mouth had to be wired and he had to be spoon fed for months.  Soon afterwards we found out that he had severe allergies requiring a special diet and multiple medications to comfort him for life.  Years later he started needing to be bathed several times a week to control the itching.

Amongst many other conditions, Baci developed Cushing’s disease.  He had terrible calcium deposits growing all over his body. He did not want to be touched.  These growths itched terribly even though as recommended by his vet and doggie dermatologist we bathed him in medicated shampoo every other day and treated him with all sorts of both topical and internal medication.  We tried unsuccessfully to stop the itching and control the growths but they continued to spring up everywhere like weeds. 

 

 

 

 

His saving grace from the itching was when we put him in sleepers to keep him from scratching or licking himself raw. He also looked absolutely adorable. During the last few weeks he seemed most comfortable in his sleeper and would once again allow us and others to cuddle him in his outfit.   Unfortunately not only did they continue to multiply, his growths opened and bled, no matter what we tried we could not heal him.

During the last few weeks, he had a horrible time swallowing and we believe the growths may have also been growing inside. We not only tried adding water to his food, hand feeding him, grinding his food in an Oscar, and giving him soft food, but in the end eating was a huge effort on his part.  He kept losing weight and strength.

The last few days we were given many signs that we needed to let him go:  he had a seizure and let out a blood curdling scream; when he tried to stand up his paws would give up; and his body would go limp sometimes when we held him.  What were we waiting for  . . . to feel we did everything we could  . . . to give him so much love that we have no regrets.  We promised ourselves we would not allow him to linger when there was no hope.

Yesterday Ron called his vet to tell him we were confident that tomorrow was time.  Baci’s vet was on vacation this week not to return to his practice until next Tuesday.  However Baci’s vet loved him so much he had given us his cell phone in case of emergency for Baci’s special care.  When we spoke to him he said he would meet us at the animal hospital whenever we wanted. 

We gave Baci the perfect send-off.  This morning we treated him to all of his favorite things:  First, we cuddled him and had him lay with us in bed; second, we fed him all his favorite food and treats:  peanut butter, popcorn, and bananas; and third, we sat in the family room this morning watching TV while he laid comfortably in our arms as we took turns loving him.

At 10:50am Ron, Porsha, Baci, and I all went to the vet’s office.  We were not in the private room for more than five minutes with the vet when Baci let out a scream as blood curdling as a few nights ago as if to say, “Please mom and dad no second thoughts let me go!”  The vet told us he had another seizure and would continue to have them more frequently.  We understood that no matter how unpleasant the time was right.

Everyone gave Baci kisses including Porsha who needed the closure as well.  He also said that when he was leaving his home his youngest son said, “Dad you have to go to work on your vacation?”  He answered, “Just for a little while, Baci is sick and needs to go home.”  His son replied, “Dad, I am so sorry.” Tears rolled down his face telling us that story.  We knew how much he truly loved Baci too.

Baci passed in my arms with Ron hugging me.  To our surprise Baci’s vet put his arms around us and with tears in his eyes said, ‘Baci will be missed by everyone here too.  He was very special.’

 

We all sat in silence for awhile Ron and I kissing Baci while expressing our love. Then with heavy hearts, we handed Baci to his vet for his final rest.   Porsha seemed to understand.  She did not have anxiety about leaving there without her brother like she normally would when he has had to stay.  Dogs have a special sense about them.  Her best friend was gone; he was only a memory now.

 

Amazing to us are all the coincidences that followed:  After we left the Animal Hospital, we passed a garage sale where a huge 8-foot inflatable bear holding a heart in his paws with the words ‘I love you!’ 

 

I believe it was God’s way of telling us that Baci loved us very much and that he was in God’s hands now. 

Within a half hour we were outside sitting on the grass with Porsha when a white butterfly came dancing around us.  I believe mom was saying ‘No worries Baci’s with me.  I will love Baci with my whole heart and soul.’

Baci’s vet’s name is Doctor Faith. (I have never thought about his name before today, but how appropriate).  We have faith that someday when we all go to heaven we will all be together again with all of our loved ones including all our puppies.

Baci was truly one of the best gifts God has ever blessed us with.  We are thankful for all the quality time He gave us with Mr. B. 

Although we know Baci is no longer in any pain, Ron, Porsha, and I are all feeling a tremendous loss today. 

 

A Message from Mom

 The other day while going through some of mom’s paperwork, I came across a few pieces of paper that mom had written that intrigued me.  The first paper I found was a sheet of white 8 ½ by 11 notebook paper with an affirmation written over and over again. 

A few years after dad passed, mom was diagnosed with clinical depression and bi-polar. I remember teaching mom the power of affirmations.  Telling mom to write over and over the same positive thought. I explained that if she put positive thoughts in her mind instead of negative ones her life would change for the better.  I suggested working on one issue at a time.  This sheet that I found was one of her completed affirmation exercises.

 

 

The first sentence was clearly in my handwriting. I wrote: “I’m getting better and better.  The second sentence is mom’s handwriting and she wrote the same exact affirmation.  However when mom went to write the affirmation down the next time, she changed the affirmation to: ‘Im getting healthier and healthier’.  She finished writing that same affirmation to the end of the page. This exercise must be at least 15 years old as I remember that mom and I sat on her stools next to her island in her kitchen when she lived on her own in her condo.   This paper made me smile remembering how mom would humor me and do the affirmation exercises I would give her.  I remembered how hard I prayed that something would work to help her depression.  I was willing to try anything.

After I put the sheet with the affirmations down and picked up the smaller paper, I came upon something more precious than gold.  I found a note written in pencil on a sheet of paper that appeared to come from a tablet that mom often wrote her grocery list on.  She had written on both sides of the paper.  She did not sign her name.  And the note was not addressed to anyone. 

I do not have any recollection of mom ever showing me this note, although since my brain surgery over eight years ago occasionally there are things I do not seem to remember.  I cannot believe that I would ever forget her heartfelt message. After reading her note I was so stunned that I told no one until yesterday when Jamie came over for lunch.  We had a box of mom’s knick knacks we were going to peruse for sentimental value.

When we were through, I showed Jamie mom’s note.   I asked him if he had ever asked mom to write me a note because sometimes when she treated me poorly or we had an argument Jamie would ask her to be nice to me.  Jamie shook his head no.  He had never seen mom’s note before.  Something Jamie said then resonated with me, “We are looking through this box of trinkets  . . .  This letter trumps anything mom could have left anyone.”

I enjoyed the afternoon with my brother going down ‘Memory Lane’. When he left I read mom’s note again. My eyes filled with tears as I realized that mom wrote this on her own fruition.  Maybe during one of her therapy sessions that she went to several years ago her therapist might have suggested that she write down her feelings, but I will never know for sure.  Either way mom never gave me her note even though she kept it herself. I have to wonder if she hoped I would someday read the words she had written about me.

 

 

Mom’s Note

(I typed her note exactly how mom wrote. I did not change a word or punctuation)

My daughter Julienne was a precious baby a beautiful girl  I was so proud of her, I dressed her up gorgeous.  I love her very much but I think I was very strict with her, now that I am sick and depressed she has been a great help to me between her and Jamie gives me shots; taken me to the doctor; helping me with my bills and bank statement.   I am so grateful to here.

What a wonderful daughter I have, so loving and giving, always there when I need her trying to make me write affirmation on Im having  great night sleep which has worked.  Now I am writing yes I have more pep energy today and appetite.

I love my daughter very much and I am blessed to have here.  If only I could show her by getting to feel well again. 

Jesus my Savior I give myself to you.  Your in charge.  Thanks for everything

 

 

I am not sure why mom could never show me the note. Nevertheless, there is no doubt in my mind, mom and I both always wanted the same thing each other’s love and affection.  Thankfully that is precisely what we received in our last chapter.  God helped me find mom’s note which I will treasure as long as I live.

Time for Goodbyes

 

I woke up anxious the next morning at 5:31am, surprised that I had slept through the night.  I laid there quietly praying again.  My request was the same:  I asked God to let me be there to comfort mom in her passing.

 

My intuition told me that I had to go to see mom right now. I jumped in the shower, ate breakfast, and headed off for mom.  Ron asked if I wanted him to join me.  I assured him that I wanted some quality time with mom, but I promised to text him on her state.

Upon entering her room, mom appeared quite similar to how I had first seen her yesterday however a little restless.  Mom also had a slight temperature.  I was told these were next stages for mom and to be expected.  I sent a text to Ron and my brothers with an update on mom.

I spoke with Billy* who told me that they would be putting a Scopolamine patch on moms chest. This medication helps with the secretions and the death rattle that so often accompanies a person prior to their passing.  In a healthy person a doctor may prescribe them to help relieve motion sickness or nausea.  Everything we were doing for mom was for her comfort.

While sitting and holding mom’s hand, she mumbled occasionally with her eyes closed.  I just kept talking and letting her know how much she is loved.  I spoke about heaven and all our relatives who she will see after all these years.

Billy* kept giving mom a tiny sponge that she had dipped in thickened water to wet mom’s lips.  The thickened water and thickened cranberry juice was all they had given mom in the last two days.  If the water or juice was served to mom in their normal state, they would cause mom to choke and possibly be the cause of her passing.  We were allowed to dip the sponge and give to mom when she looked like she wanted something to drink.

Jamie had called my Aunt Jay and my Godmother Marlene and informed them about mom’s condition.  They must have been guided by God to visit mom as they wasted no time; they came to the hospital around 11am that morning. 

Aunt Jay and Marlene both held mom’s hands. They could not believe how quickly mom had turned for the worse.  I had just recently seen both of them and spoke about how well mom was doing because at that time she was.  I told them the events of the last two days. 

Aunt Jay asked mom if she knew she was there would she squeeze her hand.  Mom’s response was immediate; she squeezed Aunt Jay’s hand. They both told mom that they loved her.  I could tell that mom was mumbling deep down inside herself trying to say out loud that she loved them too.

Around 12noon Jamie and Tracy walked in, we were still all around mom’s bedside talking with her. Shortly thereafter Aunt Jay and Marlene left. 

Prior to my leaving, I said to mom, “I am going to give you some quality time with Jamie and Tracy now. I will see you later.  I love you with my whole heart and soul.” Mom mumbled with her eyes closed.  I imagined she was telling me the same thing.

With that, I walked to my car and sat and cried.  I knew our days were numbered, but I had no idea what number today was.

I remembered how just two days ago mom and I were eating double cheeseburgers together.  I remember our beautiful walk to our pond and gazebo.  My eyes flooded with tears as I remembered mom blowing me the last kisses I will ever receive from her that day.  Surely those past days will only be a faint memory someday.

The phone rang while I withered in my sorrow.  Ron was calling to check up on mom.  He could tell I was crying.  He asked me not to drive until I could control my tears.  I promised I would wait. 

When I came home, I began blogging about last Friday with mom.  I did not want to forget any detail.  Later that afternoon, Ron started barbecuing steaks for dinner.  I told him before we sat down for dinner and started to watch TV I wanted to check in with mom’s nurse.

At 5:30pm on Sunday their switchboard is closed, but I had the direct line to the nurses’ station on mom floor and section.  I asked for the nurse who was in charge of Gilda Mascitti.

Kris* came to the phone; I had never spoken to her before. 

“Hi, Kris*, I’m Julienne, Gilda Mascitti’s daughter.  I am calling to see how my mom is doing tonight.”

Her response was so matter of fact, “Your mother is actively dying.”

No sound followed---no words, I was spellbound.  I had a huge lump in my throat that left me immediately without my voice.

Kris* spoke up, “Are you there?”

I caught my breath and took a deep swallow, “What do you mean exactly?”

Kris’s* voice sounded strange and confused, “I thought you knew that your mother is dying?”

“Kris, we were told yesterday that mom had a week to 10 days.”

“Her doctor has just examined her. He used to be a hospice doctor.  He claims she has 48 hours or less.  We have no idea if she will even make it through the night.”

“May I come and stay with her through the night?”

“Of course, you are welcome to stay as long as you want. Our doors may be locked when you get here, but just call this number and someone will let you in.”

“I am leaving immediately;  I will be right over.”

When I hung up the phone, Ron had dinner ready.  “Honey, Kris*, mom’s nurse just told me that mom is actively dying.  She may not live through tonight.”

Ron coaxed me to eat a few bites prior to leaving; however when I tried to eat I wasn’t hungry any longer. 

“Honey, my stomach is too upset to eat.  Please let me go and spend mom’s last days with her.”  Ron asked if I wanted him to join me.  I said no that I would contact my brothers on my way.  Ron asked me to keep him updated.

I was of course breaking a promise to Ron as I was driving and crying. I drove carefully but called both of my brothers.  I first contacted Jamie who was there just a few hours earlier.  I am sure Jamie found my comments hard to believe that mom’s condition had changed so much that she could die this evening.  I said I was telling him what Kris* told me.  I would certainly contact him when I was in mom’s company to give him an update of mom.

Next I contacted Jerome, Debbie answered the phone.  Through my tears I shared my conversation with mom’s nurse and the doctor’s comments with her.  She said she would let Jerome know.  I also mentioned that I was by myself and planning to stay there.

When I pulled up to The Community*, there was no problem with finding parking at this time of night.  When I went to the door, someone saw me and let me in.  The reception area was closed and a sliding wall was down over the area.  The person who let me in disappeared.  The first floor seemed empty everywhere I looked.  Some of the lights were off as they have minimal lights on during off hours.

 

I raced up to mom’s room.  Mom looked exhausted.  Her breath intakes and exhales were labored, irregular, and raggedy.  She was extremely restless.  She had so much congestion that they now had even a suction machine ready for her as she needed help.  Kris* was in the room working with mom suctioning her.  She had just put another Scopolamine patch on her.

No sooner I was talking to the nurse when Jerome walked in.  I was so happy to see him.  He asked what happened to make things change so rapidly.  Kris answered, “No one knows.”

 I asked if mom’s doctor was still there.  She informed me that he was at the nurses’ station.  I left to talk to him.

“Mom and I had wonderful day on Friday.  She ate a whole double cheeseburger.  Do you know what happened to my mom over night on Friday or Saturday morning to her present state?” 

“I am just making an educated guess, but I believe she had one of three things: a stroke, a pulmonary embolism or a cardiac problem.

“How did you find her initially?” Mom’s doctor questioned.

“She was completely in coherent; her face was distorted; her left side seemed to be immobile; her eyes would not open”

“My first guess would be a stroke by what you are telling me.  Your mom’s stages of death are moving rapidly.  Would you like me to go see her again and I will talk to you about her there?”  “Yes, please.”

After seeing mom again, the doctor said, “I have instructed the nurse to put the Scopolamine patches on her to help with that sound you hear which is called a death-rattle due to excessive secretions which create loud, gurling inhalations and exhalations. I will instruct the nurse to put on two more patches which will make four.  This will be easier on your mom and your family. When you see she is restless or making faces, your mom is telling us she is in pain. Let the nurse know, we can give her with more morphine to make her more comfortable.   ”

I assured the doctor that we would.

I texted Jamie that mom is much worse than I could ever have imagined. I also let him know that Jerome was there with me.

Jerome and I held mom’s hands and spoke softly to her.  We both expressed our love. We talked about all sorts of things.   

I continually squeezed her hand, but I could feel the change in her hands from earlier that day. They were a bluish/purplish color.  I knew that her death was eminent.  I commented, “I do not think mom will survive tonight.”

Jerome said, “What makes you think so?”

“She is going through a stage that dad went through at the end.  She seems to be between two worlds.  I believe she is trying to leave this one.  ”

Mom continued to make faces.  Secretions through the nose and mouth were happening more frequently.  I texted Jamie once more: Mom’s in pain we keep giving her more morphine.  Just then the phone rang, Jamie spoke, “I am leaving.  I am on my way.”

I was so relieved and thankful that he would be here soon. “Drive careful!” I insisted.

During the next half hour we almost lost mom, she seemed to be getting worse by the minute.  “Mom, don’t leave us yet.  Jamie is on the way.  I know you want him to be here to say goodbye.  Please wait for him.”

Mom’s body trembled like she understood and knowing mom if she could have asked for more time from God to be with all her children before she died I know mom sent the request immediately because she seemed to settle down and her dying process seemed to slow down after she knew Jamie was on the way.

When Jamie walked in, I gave up my chair for him and sat on the bed again with my hands rubbing mom’s legs.  Jamie had a chance to be with her for a good period of time.  Mom’s hands started getting cold.  The nurse said she had called hospice and that someone would be coming over.  The nurse told us to let her know if we or mom needed anything.  I just knew that there was not anything else she could do for mom.  Both she and the doctor had done everything humanly possible. 

“Mom, you are in God’s hands.  I can feel Him coming for you.  I think your prayers are being answered   It is OK to leave us now. We will all make you proud of us.   Walk towards the Light mom.  I am sure dad and your mother and father will be there.    We love you so very much. 

Both Jamie and Jerome were saying, “Mom, you did good.   We’re letting you go.”

I said, “She is leaving us right now.  I can feel her leaving.”

We all chimed in, “Goodbye mom, we love you.”

Jerome said, “How can you tell?”

“She’s shaking and her body is giving up.”  With that mom opened her eyes for the first time that night so wide and then shut them fast and she was gone.

“Mom is gone.”I proclaimed.

“But her eyes just opened.”

“She has definitely passed. Mom is gone.  Feel her face. Check her pulse.  I know what death looks and feels like.”

They did.  Indeed, mom was gone.

We all kept talking with mom as if she was still there. We told her we will miss her.  We talked about how at peace she must be now.  No more sickness.  No more trouble breathing just a future life in heaven with her family and friends.

As the nurse walked into the room she was unaware of what had recently transpired she said, “Does your mom need anything?”

“Mom died awhile ago.  We are just sitting here loving her and talking to her.”

I think Kris was shocked that we did not panic, run out and call her.  The truth is that we faced death before when dad died and we did not want to leave mom’s side for anything. We were all holding her and talking to her,  Mom would not have wanted the nurse trying to tell us stage by stage what was happening.  We knew.   The 'Joys of Her Life' (as mom called us) were helping her through the most important stage of her life.

We all called our spouses and told them of mom’s passing.  When I spoke to Ron, he said our dogs knew mom had passed. Baci and Porsha who are now 11 years old were upstairs in the bedroom with him.  They are normally exhausted at this time of day and sleeping.  However at 10:15pm they started barking and howling like something was wrong.  Ron tried to settle them down.  The dogs kept wandering around like something or someone else was there.  They kept up so he snapped their photo and sent their photo to me to say look what our pups are doing.   Ron told me to look at the time he texted the photo to me. Sure enough the time was shortly after mom had passed.  Maybe she stopped by my house on her way out to say Goodbye to them.  Maybe dogs just have a sense about these things. Either way I find the whole ordeal  intriguing and in a way even this small act comforts me.

 

Ron said, “I will be right there.  I do not want you driving home by yourself.”  There was no need to disagree with him or try to persuade Ron not to come.  I knew Ron would be there.

My brothers and I stayed with mom for a few hours until the funeral home came for her body.  During that time we sat around mom's bedside discussing her wake and funeral.

Before we left mom, I put my head on mom’s chest and wept.  “I am so going to miss you mom.  I have spent so much time with you caring for you and loving you that I cannot imagine my life without you.  Mom, I am so happy we truly had a chance to love each other.  I am going to especially miss our walks to the pond together.  I will still go there looking for you.  I hope you will meet me there.    My heart's breaking, mom, I miss you already.”

Back in November I reminded mom about how dad passed on Christmas Eve.  Due to mom’s stage of dementia, she had forgotten the story of dad’s passing 24 years ago.  After I finished telling her his story she said, “How beautiful!  I want my children surrounding me, too.”

And that’s exactly what mom received.  Mom received the best gift ever that night. 

“Thank you, Jesus.”