It was good to be with my family and remember my mother.
Here’s what’s been going on over the past few months. Sorry, if it’s lengthy, but it’s the first time I’ve put my experience of the last few months into writing.
Right after Christmas, my mother was battling what seemed to be a bad cold and cough that she could not shake. It then progressed to an extreme case of fatigue and loss of appetite because of a “bad taste” in her mouth. My siblings and I were very proactive in trying to help her find the cause with many visits to the doctor, and doing our own research. Since nothing was apparent, the doctor started by eliminating possibilities, even trying Prozac because he thought she might be suffering from a mild case of depression. We knew she wasn’t depressed. Yes, she was very tired all the time and had no appetite, but when he asked her to rate her overall well-being, she gave it a 10! That’s my mom!
When a parent becomes ill, it’s amazing how adult children respond in different ways. Unfortunately, these responses caused some stress and contention among siblings. The Bishop of our ward asked us to read the Book of Mormon during the month of March and as I approached the Isaiah chapters, I thought to myself, “I’m behind so I’ll just skip over these chapters.” But, I didn’t, and there was a phrase that kept jumping out at me, “his hand was reached out still.” I knew that I had to reach my hand out in peace, but it was awfully difficult when I wanted to make a fist and then swing up with an upper cut to the jaw. I got the message and fortunately time has dampened some of the strong feelings. When my mother’s health started to decline I was very concerned that we better be ready for long term care. Yes, financially she was fine with rental income continuing to come in every month, but what if five years from now we had to start liquidating her assets?
My mom was planning to travel to Holland with me, but as her health continued to decline, I gave her an out that would help her feel like she was making something possible for one of her grandchildren—I offered to take my two nephews in her place. She thought that was a fabulous idea!
The day before our departure for Amsterdam, I took my mom to the oncologist. He was very kind and promised my mom that he would find an answer. That night, the phone rang at my mom’s home and fortunately I was there. The doctor asked me to take my mom to the emergency room right away because her calcium levels were dangerously high. After several hours in the emergency room, they admitted her to the hospital. My flight was scheduled for 8 a.m. that morning and around 2 a.m. I looked at my sisters and asked them what I should do. I was ready to cancel the trip. They both looked at me and said, “Go home, get some sleep and then get on the plane.” I’m glad they did told me to do so. Hannah had a great time with her cousins, 20-year old Jennifer, a BYU nursing student, 16-year old Jack and 10-year old Peter. They all went home after the first week, and then Lowell joined Hannah and I in Germany for the second week.
While in the hospital, they did some scans on my mom and discovered a mass in her abdomen. After a biopsy, they determined that it was a neuro-endocrine cancer. The tumor had wrapped itself around her intestines, so surgery was not an option. It was in her lymph nodes and chemotherapy was an option, but the doctor was not optimistic that it would have a good outcome and it would affect her quality of life. My mom announced to the doctor that she had lived a good life, that she was ready to go and would forgo any treatment. When I received the news in Switzerland, we decided to change our flight reservations and return to Salt Lake a day early to spend some time with my mom. We had gone to Switzerland to see the EIger, Monch and Jungfrau, but we weren’t going to see much because the clouds were covering the Alps, kind of like our mood. It’s a good thing we left a day early. Had we travelled on our original itinerary, we would have been stuck in London because Heathrow was closed by the time we arrived in Dallas. Apparently the volcano ash cloud was causing problems again!
When we arrived in Salt Lake, I called my mom to ask if she would like anything. At 9 p.m. at night she requested a salmon dinner from Market Street Grill! I could accommodate that. Although tired, she was herself and we had a wonderful visit. We talked about her diagnosis and in a teasing way, I told her that there was one good thing about this disease--at least she didn’t have to worry about losing her mind! Both her mother and grandmother spent the last years of their lives lingering in a nursing home and I knew that this was a concern of hers as she grew older.
The next morning she showed me the outline for her funeral program and asked if I would speak. Of course I would but it was not an easy assignment to fill. How do you put into words how you feel about your mother? Once I have my talk in readable format, I’ll share it with my friends and family.
So, follow this timeline. Our flight got into Salt Lake on Saturday night, May 15, we drove to Cedar City Sunday morning, May 16 and we were sitting in our seats in Sacrament Meeting by 11 a.m. I then drove back to Salt Lake on Monday to spend a couple of days with my mom, back to Cedar City on Tuesday night, then laundry, clean the house, pack, give instructions to caretakers, back to Salt Lake on Friday and then fly to Seattle on Sunday to begin the bike trip. I don’t think I’ll know what to do with myself once I get home.
My plan was to travel back to Salt Lake a few weeks into our bike trip. Hannah was scheduled to attend ArtFusion camp and Science camp at SUU and I wanted to spend a few days with my mom. Fortunately our house sitter agreed to be a child supervisor too, so I knew that Hannah would be in good hands in Cedar City. The week before I arrived, my mother fell. She did not sustain any serious injury, but that seemed to be the beginning of a quick decline. I noticed in my daily conversations with her that she tired more quickly and had a harder time tracking the conversation. By the end of the week I quit calling because it was too difficult for her to carry on a conversation. By the time I arrived on Sunday morning, she could no longer walk and could not carry on a conversation although she did ask about Lowell’s bike trip. Over the 2 ½ days that I was in Salt Lake, she declined significantly. She was sitting/sleeping in the living room recliner and I slept on the couch next to her. My two nieces were also caring for her 24 hours a day. The first night she tried several times to get up out of the recliner to use the bathroom. The second night, she didn’t even try. Her hospice nurse told me that this is something she sees quite often in her terminally ill patients—that a minor injury can result in a rapid decline ending in death. This is obviously what my mom was experiencing. She expressed to me several times that she was ready to die and I told her that it was o.k. to go. I was able to get a laugh out of her a few times when I responded to something she did with a silly Dutch phrase and then again when I asked her if she wanted to go back to North Dakota with me. There were many tender moments with my mom and my nieces, and I was able to say my goodbyes prior to heading back to be with Lowell. Just two days later, at 3:30 in the morning, I received a phone call that she was gone. It was a tender moment for those who were with her and surrounded her in her home and what a life experience for my nieces.
Hannah knew of my mom’s condition as she spent some time with her prior to flying on to Cedar City. When I learned of my mom’s death, I felt strongly that I did not want to tell Hannah over the telephone, that it was more appropriate that she be told in person by someone who loves and cares for her. She has a WONDERFUL Primary teacher and she filled in for mom and dad. Isn’t the Church wonderful that we can depend on each other during difficult times? My visiting teacher even offered to drive Hannah to Salt Lake for the funeral!
My younger sister and I spoke at the funeral and Hannah and her cousin Peter, the two youngest of my mother’s grandchildren, sang “I Often Go Walking”. They did a wonderful job. After the funeral, Hannah returned to Cedar City and Lowell flew back to Minneapolis to resume the bike tour. I stayed in Salt Lake for a few more days to help my brother and sister with estate issues and start cleaning up and organizing my mother’s home. It was strange being in her home all by myself because I expected to see her each time I walked in or turned a corner. It’s probably good that she wasn’t there because I wasn’t very good about cleaning up after myself. Hey, I was living in three different places at once—in Cedar City, on the road with Lowell and in my mom’s home. My routine was way out of whack!
It became obvious by the end of that week that it was time for Lowell, Hannah and I to be together again as a family. Friday was the last day of ArtFusion camp and Hannah was selected to play a xylophone solo at the final performance for parents. She texted me and said “I wish you were here to see my solo” to which I responded “I wish I was too”. I had made arrangements for my neighbor to be her surrogate mom and reminded her that Michelle was coming to see her play. Hannah responded “She’s not my mom!”. I guess she really did miss me! I did arrive back in Cedar City on Saturday afternoon in time to attend the Science Camp Parent’s Night at the SUU Mountain Center. This was after spending the night on the bathroom floor of my mom’s home battling food poisoning most likely acquired with the sushi I had the night before. Kind of pathetic that I was sick, all alone, lying on the bathroom floor in my dead mother’s home. Lots of Sprite and Gatorade accompanied me on my normally three hour drive from Salt Lake to Cedar City which lasted five with naps in Santaquin and Beaver.
I have been so busy with Hannah's camps, Lowell's bike trip and settling my mom and dad's estate, that I wonder if I have had any time to grieve. Those who have lost their parents have told me that there will be moments and periods of grief when you least expect those feelings. It is my prayer that the Comforter will be my companion during those times of sadness and grief.
On my calendar I have an entry to call my mother at 10 a.m. on Wednesday morning. I'll just make a change in the number that I dial and make that call to my mother's sister, my Tante Toni.
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