Well, it's just past 8:15 a.m. on Wednesday, October 6. Mom died a year ago....on Wednesday, October 7, but this year the 'day' is more important to me than the 'date'. For the past 9 days I've relived those days a year ago, like they were happening for the first time. I decided on September 28 to read my posts, maybe a mistake. I think that day was one of the hardest and saddest days of my life. I still question to this day whether I made the right decision to tell Mom that her cancer was spreading, and talking death to her. I made the decision to talk to her about it because she always told me she wanted to know exactly what was going on in her body. But maybe she didn't mean 'everything'. It seems to me that she 'shut down' after that, not talking as much, not laughing as much, just giving up. And for that I have no one to blame but me. If I had it to do again, I wouldn't do it. It ate at me what she was thinking when she was...thinking. I can't imagine, and I have no idea since I wasn't in her shoes. I think, since I experienced that with Mom, that I'd want to know, but I really wish I hadn't told her. That can't be changed now and I just have to live with it.
I seemed to do pretty well after losing my precious Mom for about the first six months. I really thought I was handling it with peace. It was horribly hard going through Mom and Dad's possessions, the things they loved so much. Kathy, Krista and I got along perfectly, dividing everything between us. We laughed, and cried...especially at all of the foot pain remedies we found, understanding just how much Mom's feet hurt her and how hard she tried to make them feel better. It was hard, but not as difficult as leaving their house, the home Mom loved so much, for the last time. Tom, Linda, and Jane Sprang purchased it and have been so kind to let us come in, whenever we want, to revisit it.
But then the next six months hit and I've really been struggling. I looked online for help a lot, and found one site that said often the caregiver doesn't feel the loss right away. That that person feels relieved of the care and 'burden' of having cared for their loved one, and enjoys getting back to their old life. Well, as much as I loved being home with the boys and Mike, I NEVER saw it as a burden taking care of Mom. The relief was that I didn't worry each day about her health, I didn't see her worry about 'going down hill' and her sadness from that, and her impending death. Joan, who works at the Plaza, told me after Dad died that as painful as it was to lose Dad, it is still more painful when you lose the last parent, and and especially when that parent is your mother. Boy was she right.
It was so hard to lose Dad, but immediately I thanked God for the gift of his quick death. It was how he would have wanted it. I often worried about how Dad would deal with slowing down, or being ill. I just could never envision it. Dad worried all the time about dying. He didn't want to not be able to do all the things he loved to do, and he didn't want to leave his family. He told me he wanted to live long enough to see all his grandkids graduate from high school, then adding that he'd also like to live long enough to see Thomas and Rylie graduate, too. He'd sort of laugh after he said that, figuring that wouldn't happen, but that was what he hoped for. Dad would have been such a sad patient if he had to be at home all the time. God was good!!
I also have to say I don't know how I could have gotten through this past year without my sisters. It makes me feel so sad for those that have no siblings. They have been great strength, with complete understanding of how I have been feeling. I can say ANYTHING to them. I can laugh with them and cry with them. THANK YOU GOD FOR KATHY AND KRISTA!
I have to say that Tina has been just like a sister through this past year. This was as hard on Tina as it has been on us. Grandma was like a mom to Tina. I talked to Tina last night and I told her that her relationship with Grandma was one of only love. I can't remember a time when there was a negative moment between them. It was completely a positive and loving relationship. As a daughter, of course, growing up we had our 'negative' moments....spanking, grounding, hurting, anger, etc....all that a normal parent-child have. Often grandparents take the role of a parent, too. But Grandma only loved and adored Tina, as did Grandpa. She was the 'apple of their eyes', the love of their lives. And she was a rare granddaughter that treated them always with love and respect. Never a harsh word from her to them. Never. When I went to France for two weeks, she came and stayed with Grandma. Not many grandkids would do that. She was always there for her. There's a special place in heaven for her, too.....many, many years from now.
The year has passed, with the 'firsts' now over. The first Thanksgiving, Christmas, Mom's birthday, Mother's Day, my birthday, the boy's birthdays, without her. Each was an obstacle to get past, but I did. I know that each 'second, third, fourth, etc.' will always be hard, but hopefully each will also get a little easier with time. My hardest times are when I shop. She and I always shopped together until she couldn't go anymore, then whenever I went shopping anywhere, my whole goal was to find something special to bring back to her. I know that Mom, and Dad, do not want us to hurt. I know that they are truly in a better place than here on earth, and with all of those that went before them and loving them again, yet still loving us. Thank you God.
Wednesday, October 06, 2010
Saturday, May 08, 2010
Mother's Day 2010
Tomorrow is my first Mother's Day ever without my mom. Those holidays come and we take them for granted, doing the usual.....We visit Mom/Grandma, take her a gift that we've bought especially for her, have dinner, then go home...back to our usual routine. As I type this, I'm looking out my window and there is the biggest, brightest, most beautiful rainbow in the sky. There is no rain. I just ran out and took a picture of it, and it is already starting to dissipate. I really believe that was from Mom, saying Hello, knowing I'm writing this and thinking of her. It is gone. Just like she is. I have no doubt we'll be together once I join her, but on this first Mother's Day without her, I'm sad that I don't have her to hug, to see her beautiful crooked smile, to laugh with, and to tell her how much I love her. My hands ache to touch her hands, my arms ache to hug her, my heart aches to have time with her. Yes, those past Mother's Days were special, but not nearly as special as one would be now to spend again with my mom.
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
October 14, 2009
The thing I take away with me the most, is that Mom kept her sense of humor right up to the end. I know she did this to make it easier on us, and it did. There's nothing like laughter to put aside pain, and she didn't want us to hurt.
The last two days were the hardest for me, when she was in a coma, but hopefully, they were the easiest for her. We were blessed to be by her side when she died, and we are thankful she was able to be in her beloved home.
There are so many of you to thank and I pray I don't leave anyone out.
The Angels of Hospice. To Karen, the kind voice who calms us when she answers the phone; Leah, who always got Mom to smile and brought fun into our lives; Sherry and Karen who gave Mom her most appreciated personal care. A very special thank you to our amazing and loving nurses, Lisa, Jayme, Cindy and Andrea. These wonderful ladies have been given a gift, and eagerly share this gift with those in need. They are a pillar of strength and comfort. Words cannot express our gratitude for your tenderness, compassion and selflessness. May God bless you always.
To Joyce Wrasman of Immaculate Conception Church for her daily visits with the Eucharist. You were a bright spot in Mom's day, spreading your faith and hope to Mom and our family.
Janet, are we every so blessed to have you as our friend and sister! We absolutely could not have gotten through this without your help, support and love.
To Emma for the many years you kept Mom's hair looking beautiful. Mom trusted no one else and enjoyed the times spent with you.
To our many wonderful friends and family members who took time out of their own busy lives to come and visit with Mom, or brought oodles and oodles of delicious food that provided the strength we needed to endure each day.
To all of you who followed Mom's journey on line, those that called, texted, or emailed...you have no idea how much your comments, concern and love helped us get through this difficult time.
To Mike, David and Max...what can I say. You gave up 'Mom' so unselfishly these past three months so that I could be with Grandma. You worked so hard to keep our home fires burning, and I bet you have even had enough DQ to last the rest of the year! Thanks for all the time you spent with Grandma, she treasured every moment. I couldn't have a more loving and generous family and I love you all so much!
To Tom, Terry and the staff at Schindewolf, Stevens & Stout Funeral Home for their professionalism, warmth and kindness.
And finally, to Father Dinovo. You truly are a messenger of God. Your visits meant the world to Mom and we all felt your love and concern when you came. Thank you for a most spiritual and beautiful service for Mom.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
October 7, 2009
This is for David who asked me last night to keep him constantly informed since he's at college. Hi Hon.
Grandma had a quiet night. Her breathing is shallow now, and still steady, but seems to be a bit more of a struggle. I'm sure she's pain free. I give her the meds through her PIC line every four hours. We just put a tissue in each of her hands and she folded her fingers around them. You know that always seemed to calm her to hold a tissue.
We've told her over and over again, probably to the point where she wishes we would be quiet =), what a wonderful mom and grandma she's been and how much we all love her.
I'll keep writing the minute anything changes. Go about your day knowing she loves you and will soon be at peace with God. I love you!
Grandma's breathing changed about 8:00 this morning. It was lighter and less stressful. At 8:15 Grandma started her new life with Grandpa. She was very, very peaceful. We are all finding such happiness in the fact that she isn't uncomfortable anymore.
Our journey has ended. Grandma's is just beginning.
Grandma had a quiet night. Her breathing is shallow now, and still steady, but seems to be a bit more of a struggle. I'm sure she's pain free. I give her the meds through her PIC line every four hours. We just put a tissue in each of her hands and she folded her fingers around them. You know that always seemed to calm her to hold a tissue.
We've told her over and over again, probably to the point where she wishes we would be quiet =), what a wonderful mom and grandma she's been and how much we all love her.
I'll keep writing the minute anything changes. Go about your day knowing she loves you and will soon be at peace with God. I love you!
Grandma's breathing changed about 8:00 this morning. It was lighter and less stressful. At 8:15 Grandma started her new life with Grandpa. She was very, very peaceful. We are all finding such happiness in the fact that she isn't uncomfortable anymore.
Our journey has ended. Grandma's is just beginning.
Tuesday, October 06, 2009
October 6, 2009
It was a restless night for Tina, Krista and me. We shifted sleeping arrangements all throughout the night and we all slept with one eye open and ears listening. Every once in a while Mom would ask for ice...meaning ice chips. Her breathing is heavy, with her chest rising high and lowering to what seems, her back. It appears steady, and uninterruped to me. It is the only thing in her body that is, I believe, not compromised.
Today would have been Mom's day to have Emma do her hair, and Emma came and fluffed it up here at her home. Actually, she came to spend time with Mom and visit with us and....we always love to have her here.
Angel Jayme came and spent time with us talking about Mom and working with her meds to keep her as comfortable as possible. She's amazed, too, that Mom's hanging on and asked us if we knew of a reason that she might not be wanting to give up. We really don't, and Mom has been saying more often now that she's tired and she's ready. I guess it's just not God's time, yet.
Jayme suggested we keep very quiet around her, saying that sometimes they are leaving, but hear something and then come back. For the most part today she has rested peacefully, only asking for ice a few times. When Eddie came with her mail, I tried to wake her so she could see him, but without much luck.
I called Tom at the funeral home this morning and asked if we could get some of the arrangements completed now. Terry came about 2:00 and we were able to do most everything. We will just need to take her clothing and firm up the times. I feel it's a relief to have that part finished.
Aunt Ruth Ann brought us some delicious cinnamon muffins and jello, which, with Aunt Janet's salad made us a real nice lunch. I told her, as I've said many times in these writings before, I feel bad that there are four 'moms' here and we've not cooked, except for Krista making the nice dinner last Sunday. But it is so draining going through this, and we're sort of sleep deprived, and cooking seems like such a huge obstacle. So once again an ENORMOUS THANK YOU to all of our friends and family for their goodnesses to us.
Today would have been Mom's day to have Emma do her hair, and Emma came and fluffed it up here at her home. Actually, she came to spend time with Mom and visit with us and....we always love to have her here.
Angel Jayme came and spent time with us talking about Mom and working with her meds to keep her as comfortable as possible. She's amazed, too, that Mom's hanging on and asked us if we knew of a reason that she might not be wanting to give up. We really don't, and Mom has been saying more often now that she's tired and she's ready. I guess it's just not God's time, yet.
Jayme suggested we keep very quiet around her, saying that sometimes they are leaving, but hear something and then come back. For the most part today she has rested peacefully, only asking for ice a few times. When Eddie came with her mail, I tried to wake her so she could see him, but without much luck.
I called Tom at the funeral home this morning and asked if we could get some of the arrangements completed now. Terry came about 2:00 and we were able to do most everything. We will just need to take her clothing and firm up the times. I feel it's a relief to have that part finished.
Aunt Ruth Ann brought us some delicious cinnamon muffins and jello, which, with Aunt Janet's salad made us a real nice lunch. I told her, as I've said many times in these writings before, I feel bad that there are four 'moms' here and we've not cooked, except for Krista making the nice dinner last Sunday. But it is so draining going through this, and we're sort of sleep deprived, and cooking seems like such a huge obstacle. So once again an ENORMOUS THANK YOU to all of our friends and family for their goodnesses to us.
Monday, October 05, 2009
October 5, 2009
Mom isn't going to sit up in bed today like I thought, and hoped, yesterday. We are nearing the end.
She awoke at 1:00 a.m. and said she had pain in her back, and Krista and I thought we should give her Morphine to make her comfortable. I had to call the nurse-on-call, Cindy, to understand the correct amount to dispense. I gave it to her and the rest of the night she spent sleeping, or being nauseated. She was very upset that I had given her the Morphine and that it was making her sick to her stomach. She was upset with me, and with the medicine.
At 8:30 a.m. she once again felt like she was going to vomit, and she did. It was clear, yet gray in color with specks in it. I called Hospice and said we need someone to come right away. Angel Cindy came and administered Haldol through her thigh for the nausea. Our other angel, Lisa, came shortly after Cindy got here and continued Mom's treatment. She administered Morphine through her other thigh. We had noticed some dark spots on Mom's right foot and Lisa confirmed that was mottling. Her eyes are sunken and dark. It breaks our hearts to see her like this. Now she is only waking when she feels like she is going to vomit.
I called Father Dinovo and he'll be here at 2:00 to administer Last Rites. That's going to be tough. I remember when he came to the hospital when Dad had his aneurysm, and I realized what he was doing. It was so sad. It's like putting the period at the end of the sentence.
Lisa came back to be with us and watch over Mom and gave her more anti-nausea medicine. She suggested Tina come home now to be with Grandma before she dies. Lisa told us if Mom vomited again to call her right away. She wasn't gone long until we had to call her back. She came with some different anti-nausea medicine.
Father Dinovo came (3:30 p.m.) and when Mom saw him come in, she said, "I know the end is near. I'm going to take it like a man." It was really hard for Kathy, Krista and me to hear that and to see Father perform the Last Rites. A touching, yet painful moment.
As soon as Father finished, Mom got sick again and vomited more than she had before. Lisa helped her by giving her more Haldol, and Emetrol by mouth. She is resting peacefully now (4:15 p.m.)
Jeff brought us our favorite macaroni salad, jello and crescent rolls that Aunt Janet made and that was our supper. We appreciated it!
Aunt Ruth Ann and Uncle Joe came to see Mom. She looks so pitifully, painfully ill. When Mom saw them, she said, "I guess the word has spread." I reminded her that they've come often to see her. I know it was hard for Uncle Joe, especially, to see her like that. I saw that it was difficult for him to look at her, but when he was on the front porch, I watched him look at her through the window. It reminded me of when my grandpa was dying, with Hospice and his children at his side, I just couldn't go in, but I went to the window alone and watched and wept.
Aunt Janet and Annette came in and seeing Mom as she is is such a shock to everyone. She is changing daily. Her pallor, the thinness of her face, her sunken eyes, and of course, her beautiful hair has always been perfect is mussed up by the cool clothes we've been putting on her forehead during her bouts with nausea. When Aunt Janet was leaving and kissed Mom and told her she loved her, Mom looked at her and said, "I'll pray for you from heaven." That was so hard for Aunt Janet to hear.
Mom's been fighting nausea all afternoon and evening. Sometimes it's the dry heaves, but she's also had dark watery, as she has always called it...upchuck.
As I sat with her she said she was tired of all of this. I asked her if she's ready to go be with Dad. She opened her little eyes and looked at me and said, "Why? Are you going to shoot me?" and then grinned that little crooked smile! We all had such a good laugh over that!
Max and Matthew came this evening and both struggled when they saw 'Grandma'. It's a lot for a young person to grasp and I think it's worse because she has declined so rapidly that everytime they see her, she looks different and much worse. It's hard for even me to believe, grasp and accept this transformation, and I've been with her every day since her July 7 diagnosis. We tried to comfort them as much as we could.
About 11:30 p.m. I called Jayme and asked if there was something we could do to help with the nausea and also settle her a little more. She changed the medicine dosage and as they always do, she offered to come in. I told her I thought we were okay for the time being.
Krista, Tina and I slept in the living room with her. She would still wake up and say 'pan' which was our signal that she might be ready to vomit. As the night went on, she said it less and less, and never 'upchucked' again.
She awoke at 1:00 a.m. and said she had pain in her back, and Krista and I thought we should give her Morphine to make her comfortable. I had to call the nurse-on-call, Cindy, to understand the correct amount to dispense. I gave it to her and the rest of the night she spent sleeping, or being nauseated. She was very upset that I had given her the Morphine and that it was making her sick to her stomach. She was upset with me, and with the medicine.
At 8:30 a.m. she once again felt like she was going to vomit, and she did. It was clear, yet gray in color with specks in it. I called Hospice and said we need someone to come right away. Angel Cindy came and administered Haldol through her thigh for the nausea. Our other angel, Lisa, came shortly after Cindy got here and continued Mom's treatment. She administered Morphine through her other thigh. We had noticed some dark spots on Mom's right foot and Lisa confirmed that was mottling. Her eyes are sunken and dark. It breaks our hearts to see her like this. Now she is only waking when she feels like she is going to vomit.
I called Father Dinovo and he'll be here at 2:00 to administer Last Rites. That's going to be tough. I remember when he came to the hospital when Dad had his aneurysm, and I realized what he was doing. It was so sad. It's like putting the period at the end of the sentence.
Lisa came back to be with us and watch over Mom and gave her more anti-nausea medicine. She suggested Tina come home now to be with Grandma before she dies. Lisa told us if Mom vomited again to call her right away. She wasn't gone long until we had to call her back. She came with some different anti-nausea medicine.
Father Dinovo came (3:30 p.m.) and when Mom saw him come in, she said, "I know the end is near. I'm going to take it like a man." It was really hard for Kathy, Krista and me to hear that and to see Father perform the Last Rites. A touching, yet painful moment.
As soon as Father finished, Mom got sick again and vomited more than she had before. Lisa helped her by giving her more Haldol, and Emetrol by mouth. She is resting peacefully now (4:15 p.m.)
Jeff brought us our favorite macaroni salad, jello and crescent rolls that Aunt Janet made and that was our supper. We appreciated it!
Aunt Ruth Ann and Uncle Joe came to see Mom. She looks so pitifully, painfully ill. When Mom saw them, she said, "I guess the word has spread." I reminded her that they've come often to see her. I know it was hard for Uncle Joe, especially, to see her like that. I saw that it was difficult for him to look at her, but when he was on the front porch, I watched him look at her through the window. It reminded me of when my grandpa was dying, with Hospice and his children at his side, I just couldn't go in, but I went to the window alone and watched and wept.
Aunt Janet and Annette came in and seeing Mom as she is is such a shock to everyone. She is changing daily. Her pallor, the thinness of her face, her sunken eyes, and of course, her beautiful hair has always been perfect is mussed up by the cool clothes we've been putting on her forehead during her bouts with nausea. When Aunt Janet was leaving and kissed Mom and told her she loved her, Mom looked at her and said, "I'll pray for you from heaven." That was so hard for Aunt Janet to hear.
Mom's been fighting nausea all afternoon and evening. Sometimes it's the dry heaves, but she's also had dark watery, as she has always called it...upchuck.
As I sat with her she said she was tired of all of this. I asked her if she's ready to go be with Dad. She opened her little eyes and looked at me and said, "Why? Are you going to shoot me?" and then grinned that little crooked smile! We all had such a good laugh over that!
Max and Matthew came this evening and both struggled when they saw 'Grandma'. It's a lot for a young person to grasp and I think it's worse because she has declined so rapidly that everytime they see her, she looks different and much worse. It's hard for even me to believe, grasp and accept this transformation, and I've been with her every day since her July 7 diagnosis. We tried to comfort them as much as we could.
About 11:30 p.m. I called Jayme and asked if there was something we could do to help with the nausea and also settle her a little more. She changed the medicine dosage and as they always do, she offered to come in. I told her I thought we were okay for the time being.
Krista, Tina and I slept in the living room with her. She would still wake up and say 'pan' which was our signal that she might be ready to vomit. As the night went on, she said it less and less, and never 'upchucked' again.
Sunday, October 04, 2009
October 4, 2009
This is such a roller coaster ride. Friday night we thought we would lose Mom in the night. Yesterday she had a better day. Last night Mom slept through the night except for waking once. This morning she seems a little confused again. Her urine output since yesterday is declining, and she is uncomfortable with an overwhelming feeling that she has to urinate. BP 111/59 Pulse 52 After she had her Lasix, she began to fill the bag and the pressure she felt was gone.
Aunt Janet and Annette came over and Mom woke up and talked to them for a bit, and went back to sleep as soon as they left.
Krista fixed a wonderful dinner for all of the family. Tina woke 'Grandma' and fed her a few bites of food, and then she went right back to sleep.
Tina left at 5:00 p.m. for Chicago, and when she has left before, Mom would cry after Tina got out the door. Today, Tina woke her to tell her she was leaving, she kissed Grandma, and Grandma told her to be careful and that she loved her and she went right back to sleep. A few minutes later Tina returned for something and we were talking right near Mom and she didn't wake up at all.
We've been told about the possibility of a coma, and right now that is what I am thinking might be going to happen, but the way things have gone, she might just be awake and better tomorrow. It is so hard to tell. But looking at her lying there is so difficult. Mom has always been so vibrant and full of life. It was nothing for her to jump in her car four or five times a day to run here and there. She loved to see people. She loved to play cards, and send greeting cards. Now her thin little hands aren't strong enough to hold anything, and her eyes are beginning to blur. I know she doesn't want to live like this, but I also know she doesn't want to leave us. And the same goes for us....we don't want to see her live like this, but we don't want her to leave us.
When I think that just four weeks ago we sat for five hours at the county fair so Mom could see and talk to people, I am just shocked at how quickly things have changed. I guess if you have to have that horrible, heinous, debilitating disease called cancer, and you are incapacitated where the life you have known is no longer, then death would be a gift. Again, going back to what I wrote several days ago, I'm struggling with bitterness directed at those who may be thwarting a cure, and praying continuously for those working hard at finding one.
Aunt Janet and Annette came over and Mom woke up and talked to them for a bit, and went back to sleep as soon as they left.
Krista fixed a wonderful dinner for all of the family. Tina woke 'Grandma' and fed her a few bites of food, and then she went right back to sleep.
Tina left at 5:00 p.m. for Chicago, and when she has left before, Mom would cry after Tina got out the door. Today, Tina woke her to tell her she was leaving, she kissed Grandma, and Grandma told her to be careful and that she loved her and she went right back to sleep. A few minutes later Tina returned for something and we were talking right near Mom and she didn't wake up at all.
We've been told about the possibility of a coma, and right now that is what I am thinking might be going to happen, but the way things have gone, she might just be awake and better tomorrow. It is so hard to tell. But looking at her lying there is so difficult. Mom has always been so vibrant and full of life. It was nothing for her to jump in her car four or five times a day to run here and there. She loved to see people. She loved to play cards, and send greeting cards. Now her thin little hands aren't strong enough to hold anything, and her eyes are beginning to blur. I know she doesn't want to live like this, but I also know she doesn't want to leave us. And the same goes for us....we don't want to see her live like this, but we don't want her to leave us.
When I think that just four weeks ago we sat for five hours at the county fair so Mom could see and talk to people, I am just shocked at how quickly things have changed. I guess if you have to have that horrible, heinous, debilitating disease called cancer, and you are incapacitated where the life you have known is no longer, then death would be a gift. Again, going back to what I wrote several days ago, I'm struggling with bitterness directed at those who may be thwarting a cure, and praying continuously for those working hard at finding one.
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