Final Moments

I've been in a funk lately. I get that way from time to time. I think we all do. If you've ever lost someone dear to you then you'll be able to relate well to this post I would imagine. Most people say its the holidays or special occasions that hit them hardest when a loved one has died. That's not the case for me. I know when holidays or special occasions such as birthdays or anniversaries are coming. I can prepare myself for those days. Its the every day mundane activities that spark memories that slip up on me.
I have been with both of my parents as they suffered through chronic illnesses. My daddy had cancer and my momma had ALS- Lou Gehrig's disease. My perspective of each of their struggles was different. My mom was the primary caretaker for my dad. I was more in the background helping out if needed but pretty removed from the day to day. I was 24 at the time. On more occasions than I care to remember, we were called to the hospital or to my parents house with the indication that time was very short. I talked a lot with my daddy during his last weeks. There he lay in a hospital bed in our living room, paralyzed on his right side, his body weak from chemotherapy and radiation, in constant pain and do you know what he was worried about? Me.
My sweet daddy was so worried that he was leaving me behind without any one to take care of me. I would sit and read the newspaper to my dad frequently. One article I read was about adoption and I just remember tears welling up in his eyes and him saying he hoped he had been a good daddy. Jim and I had been dating for about eight months at the time. We had a long distance relationship with him living in Asheville, NC and me in Hermitage, TN. We had talked about getting married and Jim decided that he wanted to ask my dad before he passed away. Jim sat down by my dad's bed and they talked (my dad was having difficulty speaking at this point). I don't know what Jim said to him other than to ask for my hand in marriage but when I went back in, I could tell my daddy was more peaceful. He just didn't want me to be alone. There were many sweet moments during his last days. I was not there when he went to be with Jesus but my mom just kept saying how peaceful it was and how thankful she was that he was finally healed.
I was the primary caretaker for my mom. It was difficult. Avery was 5 and Aidan was 2 at the time. Day to day, it really was just me and Jim until a few months before she passed away. There were instances here and there where other family members helped but daily, it was us. I wish that I could tell you it was calm and pleasant all of the time. Believe me, I wished it had been. I wish that I could write about the long talks we had or the special time I spent with her. The truth is after caring for her and the boys all day (and Jim was such a huge help in the evenings)- doing all of the day to day stuff - personal care, feeding her, doing the physical therapy exercises, sitting in on the speech therapist, the occupational therapist, the nurse, fighting with medicare, interviewing countless in home care workers only to have them never show up (thankfully finally after Thanksgiving we had two sweet ladies we hired), making sure her bills were paid, I could go on and on.... I was overwhelmed. I don't say all that to offer that as an excuse. None of that should have mattered and for the most part it didn't. But there were days when I was tired, emotionally overwhelmed and physcially spent. There were days when I was ugly to my husband, ugly to my little boys and yes, ugly to my momma.
The week before she passed away, we got in an argument. Yes, I know what you're thinking, "What kind of person gets in to an argument and yells at their dying mother?" Me. I do. There are many moments in my life I'm not proud of but that single moment is the worst. That night my mom started acting strangely. Her speech became slurred, she was agitated, and she refused to eat. The next morning she was worse. I called the Hospice nurse who came to examine her. The nurse's best guess was that she had suffered a stroke. And what that nurse said to me after that broke my heart. She said sometimes strokes are brought on by emotional outbursts (especially in cases where people's bodies are working so hard because of a terminal illness.) Yes, its true, she gave me a million other reasons why my mom could have had a stroke and no we don't really know what caused it but as you can imagine that has stayed with me.
I had the unbelieveable opportunity to be at my mom's side when she left this world. I held her hand and listened as she kept saying my daddy's name. I had a few minutes with her when no one else was in the room and I was able to tell her how much I loved her, to give my daddy a big hug when she got to Heaven, and that I was sorry I had yelled at her. And I watched her take her last breath. It was such a peaceful end to a hard fought battle.
I think many times our most intense grief comes later. I'm a suck it up and get through it kind of person so I struggle with the fact that 2 years later I feel as if at times I grieve more now than in the early days following her death. Maybe its just that now I allow myself those times. As for my regret and guilt at the way some days unfolded in our house while caring for my mother, I'm working through that slowly.
One day at a time...
So if you still have your momma and/or daddy on this Earth, let your momma go on and on- on the phone about nothing in particular even though you have a million things to do, listen to your daddy tell that same story for the billionth time, let your momma give you some advice on child rearing without getting defensive... it may not seem like it now but trust me- you're gonna miss that. :)