Mom's Last Weekend - 4th of July

Friday, July 1st:

Mom hung on for longer than the nurses expected.  We thought it would be pushing it for her to make it much into July.  I thought she hung on for Scott to come.  He arrived finally on July 1st.  That was her last day of full consciousness.  Just long enough to have one last Family Home Evening that night.  We told stories from the past.  More light hearted stories, nothing to make her laugh too hard or cry since both hurt her too much.  We played music as well.  At the end, Scott broke the rules and told us of a memory he had as a boy.  He saw my mom and dad dancing to a song when they thought no one was around.  He loved how much they loved each other and the happiness it gave him to see them that way. He played us the song and we all wept.  I had forgotten the song but it brought back a flood of memories and feelings.  Feelings of wonderful days gone by when life was easy and the bubble of safety, love and childhood joy permeated the home I was raised in.  Scott said that it felt dark and empty the moment Mom left for Idaho.  Like it knew she was no longer master of it. 

The song is called Nepenthe:

Dad also helped mom type a farewell post on facebook for all of her friends and family.  It was so heart wrenching to read but I know it meant so much to so many that had otherwise felt there was no way to share the things they wanted with her and say goodbye.  She had hundreds of comments with memories and thank you's and loving goodbye's.  What a mark she made.  It took Dad days to read them all to her because many were long.

Saturday, July 2nd:

Now it looked as though Saturday might be Mom's last day.  That morning Dad carried her to sit in her recliner.  She was mostly unresponsive, even when her eyes were open.  Dad asked if I would be willing to drive to Boise to buy her a new smaller temple dress.  He knew hers would never fit her right and wanted her to feel special in an appropriately sized dress.  Levi and Rachel came with me and we chose one that made us think of Mom.  We had tried to show her online pictures of the dress options that morning at home, but she didn't respond.  I worried that we wouldn't get the right one.  But while we were there, one particularly stood out to us.  We brought it home and when we did, I showed it to Mom.  To my shock she suddenly looked at the dress and as she realized what it was she started dry crying and put her hands together and three times whispered the words, "Thank you, thank you, I thank you."  It seemed to mean SO much to her. 

Sunday, July 3rd:

Mom hadn't eaten in weeks.  She had gone days with having only tiny bits of water administered to her through a syringe.  She slept all day and she was so small, though she had nothing left to her.  The hours passed as we waited.  Dad stayed home from 1:00 church with her.  The rest of us only went to Sacrament Mtg.  Mom still held on.  She had expressed a week or more ago that she really wanted to see fireworks.  She was going to get to!

Mom didn't leave her room until early evening.  She slept nearly all day long. In the mean time we decided to do tie dye.  Levi bought a bunch of white t-shirts from Walmart and I had previously bought tie die online to use.  We tried to do something like the Pinterest picture below:

When I washed the tie dye shirts, I took them out of the washer and put them in the dryer to dry overnight.  In the morning, I found them sopping wet with the colors having bled.  My dryer stopped working in the night.  A house full of people, and no drying.  Within an hour, a friend who had an extra drying sitting in their garage had brought it over and switched them out for the time being.  So awesome.

By this point, our furnace had gone out twice and was currently out of order.  The repairman couldn't come until tomorrow.  A friend had loaned us their two swamp coolers the first time and the second time, we not only borrowed them again, but bought 3 more in case this was going to be a recurrent problem.  Our projector bulb burned out several days prior so no theater for entertainment.  Our sprinkler system stopped working long enough to burn the grass badly enough in multiple spots that it couldn't ever bounce back that summer, and killed some trees.  Our stand up garage freezer stopped working and we lost all the frozen Costco groceries I had in there.  Thankfully it wasn't the chest freezer because that one has the year supply of meats.  Our cellar was discovered to have suffered a mice infestation.  They had eaten a hole in the wall, got in and ate their way into any of our food that weren't stored in metal or plastic tubs.  I was beginning to wonder, "Why me, why all this?"  Isn't it bad enough to lost your mother?  With caring for her and trying to be hostess to so many guests at any one time for so long, couldn't I have it just a little easier?  But it definitely made me stop many times and acknowledge which was the worst trial to suffer.  I'd take a broken furnace, freezer, dryer, sprinkler whatever any day over losing my mother.  What it did show me was how much my friends and extended family love me and how willing to serve they are.  It gave them extra opportunities to feel helpful.  The projector out of service caused us to spend more time doing things that made us interact.  The furnace being broken also forced us to congregate together more to be in the vicinity of the swamp coolers during the day.  Would I have rather none of that happen?  Yes.  But the warm fuzzy feeling I felt when I thought of the positive consequences of my trials was sweet.  Still not sure on my lawn, though.

Monday, July 4th:

Every year my mother-in-law hosts a large party for the 4th of July  The 3 owners of Heart 'n Home Hospice go in on a huge fireworks display that the Stice brothers light off.  Mom was not in a state to be leaving the house.  And under any other circumstances, wouldn't even leave her bed, but Mom became alert the evening of the 4th and said she wanted to watch the fireworks outside.  We asked my mother-in-law if we could host the fireworks show and we got permission from the neighborhood association owner and neighbors. 

Before I had shopped stores for a new recliner for mom back in May, I shopped craigslist.  I found one that looked immaculate and for only $120, also electric.  I sat it in briefly and bought it.  Upon setting it back up at home, an odor of Febreeze began to wear off and it yielded a foul odor of marijuana.  I couldn't make her sit all day in that.  And I couldn't get the smell out.  So it sat in the garage airing out for months.  I chose not to shop the used chair selection again as I realized a chair could be peed in, a collection of all kinds of animal and human germs, and my mother would be more vulnerable to all of this having cancer and especially being on chemotherapy.  By this point the smell in the first chair was undetectable and worked great to briefly pull it out of the garage a few feet to carry Mom out and set her in it. 

Around 50 people came to the show.  They brought their camping chairs, set up quickly, and the fireworks began.  Once it was over, Mom was doing fine still and the crowd began requesting a song.  At first a patriotic song.  But it quickly turned into ANY song.  I've always wanted to let my in laws and friends see this musical family culture of ours.  Scott broke out his guitar and we made a row of stools and chairs in front of the crowd.  We began an impromptu concert as Scott led the way with his guitar.

Back inside for more music when our friends had left.

     

Tuesday, July 5th:

Mom didn't leave her room again.  My mother-in-law came to say goodbye and tell her she loved her.  My mom came to, just long enough to whisper, "Thank you" one last time.  That was the last thing she ever said- about the temple dress and to Cindy.  True to Mom's nature.  Mom didn't regain consciousness again.  She slipped into a final coma which lasted three days.  Devan, Scott, and Marty drove to Salt Lake to get back to work and to prepare for having the rest of us visit for the impending funeral.

Wednesday, July 6th:

We wondered what Mom was now holding on for.  We serenaded her.  We sang Somewhere Over the Rainbow, My Turn on Earth, every pretty song we knew.  Her struggles for breath were so hard to watch.  She was put on a drip system for medication so that she wouldn't have to swallow anything and so that her pain levels wouldn't rise and fall but could stay a constant comfortable level.  But still, she kept looking like she was in so much pain.  She would squeeze her fists to her abdomen and tremble in her sleep. 

I never thought as long as I live that I would see a day when I would hope my mother could leave me.  But I suddenly couldn't stand to be so selfish as to wish for her to stay and suffer this way anymore.  She could no longer swallow, not even the tiniest viles of water.  We frequently applied Vaseline to her terribly cracked and dry lips, but they even began to withdraw and stick to her teeth.  Her ears began to recede.  Her arms and legs began to turn blue.  Her breaths were almost non existent they were so shallow.  According to the hospice nurse, these are the signs of death on the very near horizon.

I wish all people were aware of the benefits of hospice.  It is so commonly thought of as a death wish that it is avoided until it's too late to take full advantage of it.  Hospice is only for the terminally ill.  This is true.  But from the moment that is determined, hospice not only tends to every medical need with nurses, doctors, C.N.A.'s, etc, but also social workers, spiritual care providers, volunteers who can bring dinner, pick up groceries, read a book, clean whatever is helpful, and on and on.  They brought in a commode for mom, a shower chair, an I.V. stand, emergency med packs, fancy oversized weekly pill boxes, they brought in all kinds of education to keep us informed and ready for each step of the way.  I believe hospice nurses are the most compassionate.  Those who chose to care for those who will not recover, to give them dignity and reverence, they have something to their hearts that is so special.  I loved my mom's hospice nurse.  All of the Heart 'n Home staff was so awesome.  I never dreamt my own mother would be on our serviced.  But that being the case, gave me an inside view of what a wonderful company of wonderful staff we have.  I was so proud of them.

One of the hospice benefits I will be forever grateful for was the special attention they gave to my children.  The social workers and spiritual care providers (a listening ear and helpful guide for members of any religion or faith to help facilitate an outlook of peace in the end of life) made themselves available to every member of my family.  They especially met regularly with Dad, April, myself, Todd, and the kids since we were here more constantly than those visiting from out of town.  The help they were to my kids was invaluable.  My children weren't afraid of Grandma as she changed so dramatically.  They knew how to treat her carefully, but how to still show their love and attention to her.  They knew the reality of her condition and understood what was going on.  They knew what to talk to Grandma about since the opportunity to do so wouldn't be there for long.  They made meaningful memories with her here.

Dad and Todd gave Mom a blessing that she could be at peace and leave this world knowing we wished it now.  Such a torment to say those words.  But also very powerful to feel the spirit witness that somehow we would be OK and so would she.  The nurses took turns coming this night to sit with Mom all night long.  Dad hadn't slept in days.  And most of use had struggled to do so as well as we lie awake wondering if tonight would be the night she left us.


Thursday, July 7th:

Mom's breathing began to be more shallow and have longer and longer spans of time between each breath this morning.  At 1:30 Todd left to get something from work.  He hadn't worked in several days.  At just before 2:00pm, a hospice worker and good friend came into my room and told me to hurry to come and be with Mom.  She also went to the room upstairs where Levi, Rachele, and April were watching a movie on a laptop.  We hurried in.  Mom's breaths were mind bogglingly far apart.  The nurse was listening to her heartbeat which was slowing.  We wept and watched as Mom took her final breaths.  And then heard the nurse say when her heart had beat the last time.  We sank onto the bed. After a minute, Dad called Devan's house to let he, Scott, and Marty know.  And we all cried together.  Dad sat at the top of the bed with his arm around Mom so often throughout this.  As he sat there beside her, now cradling his face in his hands as he cried, I felt impressed as my mind's eye saw a vision of a beautiful young 20 something year old version of my mother dressed in robes of white knelt beside him and held him in her arms.  She was perfect and free.  Free from pain and suffering.    If I could paint, I would paint it because the image is still burned perfectly in my mind. 

Some time passed and the hospice workers took care of Mom.  They contacted a funeral service and a mortician came and took mom away.  We started to make the plans that can't wait.  We set dates for her funeral in Salt Lake City where nearly all her family lives and many friends, and for her memorial in Wasilla where she had made her life for the past 33 years.  We asked friends and family to schedule the buildings.  We packed everyone up into the motorhome.

My stress levels began to rise.  With little to no sleep, and Dad being in such a state having lost his wife, I contacted the funeral service in Salt Lake and made her arrangements.  They had so many questions.  I didn't know all the answers.  I wanted to mourn and sleep for days.  But instead I needed to order funeral clothes online and buy flights for everyone, calling airlines to get flights all from Salt Lake but then returning to New York and various other places.  I had to pack and make funeral calls and decisions.  I couldn't eat or hardly sleep. 

She was gone to us.  Yet it felt like she was right there with us.  Watching in the corner.  Or putting her hand on my shoulder as I tried to do hard things.  But whenever I had a question for her, which I did constantly, she was gone.  I knew this fact in every grieving moment except the ones where I had a question for her.  It was so easy to instantly forget and think, "I should just ask Mom!"  So easy to fall into the habit to have the knee jerk reaction to call her whenever I needed her.  And I SO needed her.  And it stung EVERY SINGLE TIME that I had to remembered again that she was gone.

I realized we needed to park our RV in an RV park in Salt Lake because Devan's driveway was too short.  I remembered space being limited when we came to go to Lagoon and their park was full and the Draper park was almost full when we had several weeks' notice.  Now we had one day.  I called the park in Draper and they immediately said, it's July, we're full.  I panicked knowing Lagoon would surely be full.  They were.  To my knowledge they were the only RV parks in or around Salt Lake City.  I googled it and there was ONE more park.  Very close to the temple and close to the chapel we would be holding Mom's funeral in.  I called and as the number rang I prayed that God would let my mom do this one favor for me as my angel.  Let there be one opening, please.  A man answered the phone and when I said I knew it was a long shot but wondered if a spot would happen to be available for the next day and for a whole week (we would leave it parked there while we flew to Alaska and pick it up when we got back).  He said it was July and they had been full every day but he would check just in case they miraculously had a cancellation he was unaware of.  I was sweating bullets.  He got back on and said, "Wee have 300 RV parking spots at this park, Ma'am and 299 of them are full.  The last one happens to be available all week.  And it's yours."  Tears streamed down my face as I thanked God and Mom.