Blog 77: One Year Later | The End

July 9^th marked the one-year anniversary of my mom’s passing.  This past year has been a time of learning how to live without my mom.  Her death was the greatest loss I have ever known.  As time goes on the permanency of her absence does not make things easier.  Just when I think I have a handle on it and the pain isn’t so bad anymore, something will trigger a memory and I’ll cry without a moment’s warning.  It’s been rough but I keep plugging away.   I’ve heard you can’t put a time limit on grieving and I’ve also heard people say they’ve never stopped grieving.  I keep telling myself it has to get easier. 

My four sisters and I were on a path of destruction when our mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s/dementia.  Our differences of opinions concerning Mom’s care, and our lack of communication, caused our sisterhood to shatter.  I mentioned before that we were drowning in our own ocean, sinking in the abyss.  That disease and what it did to our family is something I would not wish on my worst enemy.   I blame the disease, but I also accept responsibility for my part.  Each one of us has to do that in order to move forward in healing those wounds.    We have made some progress in reconciliation.   Some of us have, anyway.  I believe we will get there but it’s going to take a little more time. 

All of my sisters came to my daughter’s wedding last month.  I was so happy they came.  We had a good time and talked and laughed and danced.  We hugged each other as we danced to the song, “We Are Family" by Sister Sledge.  It was the way it should be, and I got a glimpse of what I know it will be like again one day. 

I don’t think too much about my mom’s last years when she was sick.  I focus more on the earlier memories when Mom was vibrant and happy.  I just don’t go to the sad memories.  It’s like my mind reverts to the happiest of times.  It still makes me cry, though.  I’m just so happy to have so many wonderful memories of my mom and our family and pictures to help keep those memories alive.  She was a great mom.  She was loved so very much.  Right now I am putting together a slideshow to honor her.  Every time I work on it, and going through the pictures, my eyes burn from crying.    

I will honor my mom for the rest of my life.  I truly feel her presence every day.   Sometimes I look for a sign and other times she sneaks up on me, reminding me that she is right here, right beside me.   I’ve come to believe that every time my wind chimes make that sweet sound, it’s my mom saying, "Hi, my daughter.  I'm here."  When I pick up a paint brush to paint a picture, mom is watching.  When my grandchildren wrap their arms around me, my mom is in there, too.  I could give you a hundred examples.  Mom took a piece of us to heaven with her and she left a piece of herself in us…so we are together forever.

Before I leave you, I want to thank you, my readers, for sticking with me and following along on my blog.  It’s been almost a year since my last post.  I just couldn’t find the words after my mom died.  It was really difficult to write this one, too.  Some of you have inquired as to how I am doing and I feel so fortunate to have had such caring, faithful readers.  I’ve checked here from time to time and have noticed that some days I still get hundreds of visitors.  Maybe I am helping someone on their journey with Alzheimer’s.  I hope so.  I hope people learn from the mistakes my family made.  I hope new readers will start from the beginning and read all of my posts to know just what can happen when a horrible illness like Alzheimer's strikes and how a loving and close family can fall apart when you stop communicating.  My first blog post can be read here...Blog 1: The Beginning.  Having my blog has served its purpose for me, and been a savior in some ways, but now this chapter of my life has ended, and I feel it’s time to let it go.  This will be my last post.  If I feel compelled to write again, I will.  I am not making any promises.   Thank you again to all of you for your prayers and comforting words.  May God Bless each and every one of you!

Note:  I am adding this in later, but I realized I didn't address the issue of my mom's autopsy report from my last blog post.  The Coroner's report stated that my mom died from a. acute pneumonia (hours), b. recent fractures of the left humerus and femur (4 days), and lastly, other conditions contributing to, but not related to the terminal conditions, is dementia.  Aside from having osteoporosis, my mom's body was healthy.  I had to have my daughter come over so we could read the report together because I was just too emotional.  Reading your own mom's autopsy report is so sad. It's hard to accept the fact that my mom ultimately died as the result of a spiral fracture of her humerus, and fractured femur, that she received when an aide took her in the bathroom to bathe her.  We are still struggling with this.        

Blog 74: My Mom Is An Angel in Heaven

I don’t even know where to begin to describe the past three weeks.  Oh, how life changes in an instant.  I always said life is precious and you should never take it for granted.  I started this blog post a couple of times and just couldn't find the words to express my pain and heartache.  I will try again.  I am in mourning and grieving the loss of the most wonderful mom I could have ever had.  Blogging doesn't seem important now.  I just need to tell you all that my mom is gone.  She is gone.

I flew back to Chicago on June 27^th for one of my regular visits with Mom.  I was feeling pretty good about things for a change.  On June 30^th I was sitting on the deck of the group home with my mom.  We were enjoying the beautiful sunny day.  I looked up to the sky and saw this cloud, in the shape of a heart.  I felt like this was a sign that everything was going to work out.  Everything was going to be ok.  Plans were being made to move Mom back to her hometown and the meeting with my sisters was finally going to happen.  The next day, on July 1st, all of my sisters got together and we visited our mom before we had our important meeting.  Annie arrived late so she wasn’t with the rest of us when we visited Mom, but she went to see her after our meeting.  She said she walked in and Mom said, “Annie!”  Annie hadn’t been to see my mom in six months.  Not that she didn’t love her, she was just having a hard time accepting everything Renee put us through.

Mom seemed tickled to have us all there and she appeared somewhat sad when we said goodbye.   We girls went to a restaurant to have our family meeting to discuss what to do with our mom now that her money was about gone.  There we were, all five of us sitting down and talking.  Finally!  We got along with each other, though I have to admit there was a little tension and apprehension.  After all, it had been four years since we ALL sat down to talk.   We came up with a plan for the next phase of Mom’s care.  After considering the possibility of me coming back and hiring help and renting an apartment for us, it was agreed upon that Annie was going to bring Mom home to live with her in August.  She has her husband and daughters to help her.  I was so surprised that Renee agreed to it, but we were all facing the only other choice we had, which was Mom going to a nursing home with a Medicaid certified bed.  None of us wanted that.   I think Renee finally realized that being with family was better than that option.  Mom was finally going home.  I felt good about our meeting and reconnecting with my sisters. 

The next day during my visit with Mom, I told my mom that she was going to go back home.  She didn’t fully understand, but when I told her she was going to get to see her great grandson more, she did understand that, and she got choked up. Things were looking good.  Mom was doing as good as could be expected.  She was still recognizing her daughters, though she couldn’t say everyone’s names.  She still called me Lizzie.  Mom even let me give her a foot massage.  I was surprised to see how pretty her feet still looked.  I sang You Are My Sunshine to her everyday and held her hand and told her I love her many times during my visits that week.  Mom often told me she loved me back, though sometimes she would just say, “Good, I’m glad.”  Or, “I know you do.”  We had our usual golden moments, when Mom said something so meaningful, just out of the blue.  I am so glad I took notes and have a record of those meaningful things she said.  I took pictures and videos, and thank God I did a lot of that.  The last video I took of my mom was so cute.  She was smiling, laughing, and whistling.  Then at the end of the video I told her I love her and she said, “I love you, too”, with a smile on her face and that endearing look of a mother’s love.   I wish I could post that video right here, but I am still wanting to protect the privacy of my family. 

On July 5^th, I arrived at the group home and I could hear Mom whistling in her room.  Whistling and whispering were her new things.  We had an hour together.  It was to be the last hour that I could share beautiful moments with my mom.  The last time I would hear her voice and hear her say she loves me, and the last time I would see her beautiful blue eyes.    I fed her lunch during that hour.  She ate a jelly sandwich and I gave her some chocolate afterwards.  She chatted with my son on the phone from California.  Then, everything changed.  An aide arrived and took my mom to the bathroom for her bath.  I was in another room talking to my sister on the phone and I turned around to see the aide raise my mom from her chair.  

In an instant, life as we knew it changed.  My mom went into the bathroom a whole person, and she came out about 20 minutes later with a broken body.  She couldn’t walk and she was bent over and trembling.  I rushed to the bathroom and saw her like that.  Something happened in there.   The aide said she needed help and I called out to the caregiver to bring the wheelchair.  They put mom in the wheelchair and took her back to her room and then put her in her chair.  The aide said nothing to me or anyone else about what happened.  Mom said she hurt and the aide said she’s never seen my mom like that.  

After the aide left, it didn’t take long before I realized my Mom was really hurt.  She was clearly distressed.  Not knowing the severity of her injuries, I tried to calm her down and reassure her that everything will be ok.  Mom was making comments that she didn’t like the aide and that she couldn’t move her arms and that it hurts.   I felt up and down my mom’s arms and noticed she had a hard lump in her left arm.  I didn’t know it was broken.  I thought it was a pulled muscle, maybe.  I just had no idea.  The two caregivers there put cream and an icepack on it.   One of the caregivers was a nurse for 30 years.  Mom’s arm began bruising in her armpit area and down the inside part of her arm.  Finally, after repeated attempts to reach Renee, she showed up.  Several hours after the incident, Mom was transported to a hospice hospital, at Renee's direction, and four days later she was dead. 

Not only did my mom suffer a spiral fracture of her humerus on her left arm, but the next day they found that her left hip was broken too.  The doctor said she was too weak to survive these kinds of injuries and surgery was not an option.  At first Renee was talking alone to the nurses and doctors, but she finally let us all in to hear what they were saying.  She didn't need to be secretive anymore.  I couldn’t believe my mom was going to die.  Mom was put on a very low dose of subcutaneous Morphine, which the doctor said was kind of like a vicodin.  I asked why she won’t wake up and the doctor said, “because your mom is dying.”  Eventually they had to up her dose of morphine because Mom was in too much pain. 

I stood at her bedside and watched the life go out of her. Was this really it?  Was this how she was going to die?  It wasn’t going to be a peaceful death either, because she was hurting!  It wasn’t fair!!!  I watched her wince in pain and I saw the fear in her face.  She tried to say something to Renee and me.  We couldn’t understand her and she seemed a little frustrated as she repeated herself.  We could not make out what she was trying to say. Maybe she was trying to tell us what happened to her.  Mom couldn’t eat, not even ice cream.  God, that hurt to see my mom like that.  I could hear her tummy growling.  She was starving, but she was dying, too.  I could hardly eat.  In fact, it was days before I could eat anything without crying and feeling guilty.  I just couldn’t eat when my mom couldn’t eat.

My sisters all gathered together and some of us spent the night and slept on couches.  We took shifts holding our mom’s hand.  Mom squeezed our hands and we didn’t want let go unless there was someone else there to take over.  We didn’t want her to be alone or to be afraid. We wanted to be close to her and we all assured our mom that we love her and always will.  All of us took turns saying what we needed to say.  We told her that we are all together and we are all good, and for her to not worry about us.  We said we’ll take care of each other. The doctors had told us that she can hear us even if she can’t respond.  We made sure she knew we loved her.  

Towards the end it was just awful.  By then several of Mom’s grandchildren were there.   Annie arrived late, but she made it in time.  She got there after the nurses moved mom to her final resting position.  They placed her on her side so that her breathing would be easier.  Two chaplains had paid a visit on that last day.  Prayers were said, tears were constant, though we tried not to let Mom hear us cry, and Mom was slipping away fast.   We didn’t want her to die but it was too painful watching her die that we just wanted it to end.  But how could we survive without her?

The chaplain told us that she may want to go alone.  Mom knew we were all in the room with her, once Annie finally arrived.  Mom even tried to raise her head when she heard Annie's voice.  Mom was a very private person and she cared very deeply for her family.  I think when my mom knew we were all there, that’s when she was ready to let death claim her.  We all took turns saying goodbye and telling her how much she means to us and that it’s ok to go now so she doesn’t have to be in pain.  I told Mom to not be afraid.  Her body was trembling.  I said Jesus is waiting for you, Mom, and we will be together again one day.  I told her we will take care of each other until we see her again.  I told her we will never be apart, that we will keep a piece of her with us and she will take a piece of us to Heaven with her.  

It was just too painful to watch her as she was showing all of the signs that the end was near. The nurse said Mom was semi-comatose.  We reluctantly all left the room, in case Mom wanted to die alone.   The chaplain stayed with her for awhile.  I went down the hall to call my son.  A few minutes later my niece ran to get me and she said, “She’s gone.”  I ran down the hall, as I saw my nephew running to get his mom, and others running into my mom’s room.  We were all there within seconds. She was just laying there, lifeless, with Annie holding her hand.  Annie had slipped back in the room and she was there when Mom took her last breath.  There was no more struggle to breathe.  She was free from the pain, but our pain was unbearable.  I dropped to my knees and held on to her and cried MOMMY!!!!  I was a little girl again, who needed her mommy.  Everything was so surreal.  The crying, everyone crying that awful cry when someone you love dies.  The chaplain was crying, too. 

Mom passed away on July 9th at 10:45 P.M.  My family moved about, going in and out of the room.  Those of us who could, and some couldn’t do it, but those of us who could, sat with her and talked to her some more.  Annie didn’t want to leave her.  She kept rubbing mom’s arm.  I held my mom’s lifeless hands, still being careful not to hurt her broken arm, and I said goodbye to my mom.  I walked out of the room and turned around to have one last look at her, with tears streaming down my face.  I wondered how I could ever survive life without my mom.  My hero was gone.  

Annie told me when she walked into the room our mom was looking straight ahead.  She was already on her last breath.  Annie told her to go to Grandma and Grandpa.  She said they are waiting to take her to Heaven with them.  She said that is when Mom took one more breath and then she stopped.  My daughter said that she had a vision of my grandparents standing behind Jesus, with open arms, reaching out for my mom.  I believe that happened. 

Sadly, an autopsy had to be done on my mom.  I hate that she had to have that done.  We have the preliminary report that said she didn't have a heart attack or stroke.  We are still waiting for the final results but we know what it's going to read.  Mom died as a result of her injuries. We are just waiting.  One thing I am sure of, my mom didn't fall.  She didn't have any bruises on her hip or the outside of her arm. The coroner's report is what everyone is waiting for, though I don't know if I will be able to look at it.    

My mom’s funeral was on July 12^th.  It was a beautiful service with more people there than I ever expected to see. It was so nice to hear the wonderful comments about my mom and see all the people who cared about her and our family.  I prepared a letter to my mom that I read during the service.  It was so hard for me to read it, through the tears, but I did it for my mom.  At the burial site, my sister's son, the oldest of the grandchildren, gathered all of us girls together.  He said that it took our mom a lifetime to build up this family and make it the loving family that she was proud of, and in a period of three years, we dismantled everything she worked so hard on building.  He asked us what he thought our mom would think about that, and he asked us if we are going to let this be it or are we going to work on making our mom proud of the legacy she left behind.  It’s something I always wanted, and I think we all did.  We just couldn’t get it together.  We hugged in a huddle and promised we will make our mom proud as she looks down on us from Heaven.  It will be a struggle at times since there was a lot of hurt and anger, and it will take time to heal, but I am hoping we can pull through this and be there for each other. 

I had to leave and go back to my home in Arizona, and I felt so terribly sad to leave my sisters behind.  That oldest sister in me, nurturing, wanting to comfort, wanting to protect my sisters, is back.  (She never really left.)  I feel for them because I am also feeling that same, awful pain they are feeling.  We describe it as feeling empty. Lynda said she feels like an orphan now that both of our parents are gone. Before I left, I went to a Monument place and picked out a headstone for my mom.  I selected a precious moments angel to go on the headstone.  The angel is releasing five hearts from her hand, representing my mom’s five daughters. 

I know my mom is in Heaven with Jesus and she is whole again.  She is no longer in pain, no longer living with Alzheimer’s, and she is an angel who is watching over her family.   She is not fully gone from our lives because she is living through us, it's just hard to not be able to see her again for the rest of my life.  After the funeral my family went to dinner and we talked and shared stories.  We even laughed.  Yeah, we even laughed, though we cried, too.  All of us girls stood outside in the parking lot after we finished our meal (which by the way, was the first time I could eat without crying), and we talked for another hour.  Just like old times, we had so much to say.  We have lots of catching up to do. We went for ice cream afterwards, and as my four year old granddaughter was licking her ice cream cone she walked over to a young couple sitting there and she said, “My big nana is in Heaven and she is an angel now.”  She is proud of her big nana, and to her, she is happy she's an angel.  She, and my wonderful family and friends are helping me get through this.  I didn't think I could go on, but somehow, some way, I am finding the strength to live.   

By the way, I will continue this blog.  Our journey is not over, so please check back from time to time.   

Blog 57: Memories of Nana

About seven years ago all of us girls wrote down our own special memories of our mom, and our children wrote of their wonderful memories of their nana.   We gathered these writings and put them in a book to give to Mom on her birthday.   This was years before Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer's.   

"When you look into your mother's eyes, you know that is the purest love you can find on this earth."  Mitch Albom 

Mom's 77th birthday is approaching at the end of this month, and I searched my file cabinet to find copies of the letters, because I remembered that time and how special it was.  The ones who could be there, gathered around and laughed and cried as we read our letters to Mom.  

The following were written by my three children... 

From Denise…

“I have many fond memories with Nana.  Some of my best memories come from the times when Nicole and I used to spend the night at her house.  Nana was always so good to us.  I can remember countless times when she’d drive us to go ice-skating or go to the movies, etc.  Oh, and I can’t leave out the yard sales!  We’d drive around for hours going to yard sales.  My items of choice were usually baby clothes that I’d use for my dolls.  And Nana’s negotiation skills were impeccable.  Seems like it didn’t matter if the item was marked $15, if Nana wanted it she’d leave having only spent a nickel.  Remarkable.  And other times we wouldn’t really do anything at all.  We’d just sit at the table and eat macaroni and cheese and talk.  I hope that Nana knows how grateful I am for all that she did for me and Nicole.  I’m sure we could be a handful at times, but we really enjoyed the time we spent not only with each other, but also with her.  Thank you, Nana.  I love you!”

From John…

“Nana is the best Nana anyone could ever ask for.  So many times I sit in my California home and reminisce about all the great times I’ve had hanging out with her, all the while remembering the little things I’ve learned in life by following her lead.   Little things such as the fact that I always have a refrigerator stocked with Coke to offer guests, and the reason I don’t walk around my house eating a sandwich without a plate (we all know how she is about crumbs).  She’s also the reason I blame the squeaks in the floor when I pick up any of those hard-to-find crumbs that slip off the plate and I accidentally toot.  Maybe I should learn to follow her lead a bit more so the next time I’m over at her house I don’t hit my head on the ceiling when I walk down the stairs.  But most of all I think about how she loved to be around the grandchildren; willing to take on me, Brooke, Rose and Michael all at once.  Babysitting Denise and Nicole had to be the biggest handful but I never remember Nana complaining one bit, never yelled at me for a single thing, even if it was completely obvious I was the one who made the mess in the basement.

If you all are wondering why in the world I would leave the great state of Iowa and move to California, blame Nana.  The main reason I moved out here was to get Nana an autograph of one of those ice skaters that she loves so dearly.  Which one was it?  Anyway, I’ll find that person and my duty out here will be complete.  And I’ll be sure to tell Tom Cruise to get a life.  I miss you Nana.  I love you soooo much and my plane rides home are actually enjoyable because not only will I get to see my parents and sisters, but I also get to hang out with you and talk to you as if you’re one of my boys.  I could write so much more about what you have meant to me but Kristi Yamaguchi is paging me and wants to know who the heck Nana is?!?  Take care and I love you lots!”

From Rose...

"So here I am, at my desk, beginning to write my contribution to a book of combined memories of my Nana. 

This will be easy, I thought to myself, when I was asked to come up with one of the fondest memories I have of my grandma.  Quite the opposite of my assumption, I have come to realize how much I was mistaken.  What if I have too many good memories to choose from?  Well, my Nana has provided me with 28 years of memories.

One of my biggest memories of Nana is when I was able to sleep over night at her house.  Usually I stayed the night with Brooke since the two of us always asked to stay over night together.  Brooke and I would typically stay up late in the living room before retiring to bed upstairs for the night.  Nana would always let us stay up later than I could at home so it was quite the treat.  Poor Nana was victim to many dance routines, singing ensembles, and plays since Brooke and I took great pleasure in performing things for anyone who would watch our final routine.  So one day she decided to take us to the mall for a video recording of us singing and performing the song of our choice.  I was extremely nervous to perform in a booth in front of strangers, and on camera.  Brooke and I had to sing first then dance to our recorded voices while pretending to sing.  To make things even more nerve racking, they displayed your performance to people walking by in the mall.  Bless Nana’s heart, she convinced us to do it and told us we were excellent performers.  So we did a routine to Madonna’s song (of course) Material World.  It was so much fun and it turned out to be the perfect gift for our mom’s on Christmas.  I will never forget how much fun I had on that day.

I cannot end with just the one story so I will have to briefly mention a few more memories.  I have to smile when I think back to how important I felt playing ‘Here Comes The Bride” on my tiny little organ when Nana and Grandpa Bill got married.  I had letters taped to my keyboard to help me play the song.  I felt so grown up that day.

Nana carried on her tradition of allowing the grandkids to order two things at a fast food place, just like she did with my mom and aunts.  One time she took a few of us to McDonald’s while we were having a yard sale at my house.  I ordered French fries and a shake for my two things.  I came home and threw up whole French fries while Nana and my mom took turns rubbing my back.  Nana joked and asked if I even chewed the fries before I swallowed.

I should probably write my own book of memories with Nana since I have so many more I would like to share.  Nana has been the closest grandparent that I have had.  She has played a huge role in my life and I look forward to many memories to come."

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My mom's family was more important to her than anything else in this world.  It's clear that my mom's legacy of love will live on and on, and she will always lovingly be remembered, and never, ever forgotten.   

Blog 56: How Do You Pick The Last Christmas Card?

I went to the store the other day, looking for a Christmas card for my mom.  As I perused the cards on the shelf, it suddenly occurred to me that this may be the last Christmas card I buy for my mom.  That thought saddened me.  It made picking out a card much more of an emotional experience than usual.  How do you pick out the last Christmas card you buy for your mom, the one who made Christmas so magical and memorable for the family, the person you love so much ?  I started feeling guilty for having those thoughts.  Mom could be here a lot longer than what we think.  She could make a big turn around, start eating more food again, hang on to life.  She could surprise us all.  She could!  But, she may not.  Even if she is here next year, she may not know us anymore.   Already she doesn’t show any interest in cards and things like that anymore.  She used to love them.  I realized that this card I choose has more meaning for me than it will my mom. 

So, what card do I want for my mom?  I searched a couple of stores before I found the card that made my eyes well up with tears.  When that happens, I know I’ve got the right card.  Along with the beautiful Christmas poem already inscribed, I wrote my own personal message inside the card.  I poured my heart out and as I went to the mailbox to mail it, I paused.  I stopped and held the card to my heart as if hugging my mom, and as my eyes welled up with tears again, I rubbed my fingers across the card and kissed it and said 'I love you Mom' before I placed it in the mailbox.   I sent my love across the miles and hoped my mom would somehow feel it when she gets the card.  Why was this so hard?

My daughter came over the other day and we were talking about Christmas and my mom came up in our conversation, as she often does.  I showed her some things my mom, her nana, bought for me in past Christmases.  Rose told me about some of the gifts she still has that nana bought for her.  One of the gifts my mom gave me is a little music box that plays the song "Unchained Melody".  I tried to upload a short video of it here but it wouldn't upload.  I had a gulp in my throat when I played it.  My granddaughter wanted to hold it, but I gently told her that it was something that was very special and she can look at it but not play with it.  I told Rose that someday one of her girls will get this.  Another gift my mom gave me is this...   

She bought this for me in Dec. of 1994, after I had a minor surgery.  Everything my mom bought me has so much more meaning to me now.  I even saved an empty lotion bottle, which was a birthday gift from a few years ago.  

Rose asked me if I remember the last gift my mom bought for me, and I said yes, as I went to my room and took the sweater out of my closet.  As soon as I touched the sweater I started to cry.  How come I’m so emotional now?  I can’t help it.  I brought the sweater out to her and showed her.  Rose hugged me as I told her the story about Mom buying the sweater.  I said I was with nana when she picked out five sweaters, one for each of her daughters.   I will keep it forever.  Mom had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s then, and she was going through a difficult transition period that you can read about in my earlier posts.  She still liked to go shopping at Dillard’s.  That particular day she wanted to go, but she had been out of sorts and agitated and tired all day.  I brought her there to make her happy and to help her because she was worried that she hadn't bought anything for her daughters yet.  The store clerk knew her there and she saw the cognitive decline with Mom.  As she rang up the purchase, she got out a chair for Mom to sit in because she could tell my mom was very worn out.   

When I put up my Christmas tree a few weeks ago, I realized the angel on top reflects in the mirror on the wall.  This mirror hung on my mom’s living room wall for 38 years.  When I look at it, it takes me back in time to when I was 18 years old and my dad gave me $40 to buy my mom a gift.  My sister Lynda and I went shopping and we picked out this mirror and two sconces.  The mirror was put out in the garage when my mom’s house was sold, and I took it out of a box and wrapped it up to protect it, and I carried it on the plane trip home with me.  It makes me smile to see the angel in the mirror, and I look at it as a sign that God has sent an angel to watch over Mom.  Maybe it’s an angel to watch over all of my family.  

I love listening to Christmas music and I do believe it is my favorite of all music ever made.  It often conjures up memories of past Christmases...those of my childhood and of my children's younger years.  Christmas was such a magical time when we were kids.  Mom made our Christmases so special, with presents piled under the Christmas tree.  We would beg her to leave the tree lights on during the night on Christmas Eve.  Mom would worry that the real tree would catch fire, but she said she'd leave the lights on for us.  I'm sure she turned them off as soon as we fell asleep and then got up early to turn them on again.  Of course, we thought she left them on all night.  She was probably up late wrapping more presents.  She would get up early in the morning and put more gifts under the tree from Santa, even when we were older and no longer believed in Santa Claus.  She’d make hot chocolate and cinnamon rolls and turn on the Christmas music on the record player.  We’d sit there by the tree with the twinkling lights, scanning the boxes for our name.  The anticipation was the best part.  I can see it now.  I can feel the warmth, the excitement.  I can hear our voices.  We were young, we were happy, we were healthy, and we had each other.  We all loved each other so much.  I miss those Christmases.   I hope I have made, and am making, more wonderful Christmas memories for my children and grandchildren, as my mom did for all of us. 

Before I close on this blog post I just have to mention how deeply saddened I have been by the senseless killings of 20 children and 6 adults at the Sandy Hook Elementary School in Connecticut.   No matter how bad you think your life is, someone else has it worse.  How someone can look into the face of a child and pull a trigger to kill them is beyond me.  I’ve felt a heavy heart this Christmas season because of this tragedy.  I have three grandchildren not much younger than these children.  I know our entire nation, and the world, has mourned because of this horrible event.   There is no explanation, and all we can hope and pray for is that God gives these families who have lost a loved one the strength to go on and a purpose for living.   

May peace be with you all, and may God bless you this Christmas season.  

Blog 51: The Best Gift I Can Give My Mom

I just left California, where I had a wonderful week with my son, daughter-in-law and grandson.   We celebrated my grandson’s third birthday.  He is a very happy little boy who is so inquisitive and soaks up every new thing he learns like a sponge.  You can see him study things like shapes and objects, signs, numbers, and things we walk past and don’t even pay any attention to.  

While on a hike, my little grandson fell down a couple of times and it made him cry, but he got back up and continued on.  He could have stayed safe in his jogging stroller but he wanted to walk, even though we told him he might fall down again.  Just like life, you take a risk...and sometimes you fall, but you get back up and keep on going.  

It’s amazing how youngsters learn so quickly, and even with how much they learn everyday, they are able to retain that knowledge and still have room for much more.   Their brains are growing so fast, along with their bodies, and there’s so much more to learn and to look forward to in their futures.   Even though they are dependent upon adults to care for them, in a relatively short period of time they will soon be on their own.

Then there’s my mom, and other people who have Alzheimer’s/Dementia, where all the knowledge they once had stored in their brains is being destroyed by a disease.  They are no longer able to do the things they learned how to do so well.  All of the memories, the things they once knew, language skills, concentration, the ability to comprehend, and even show love, are all gone.   It’s almost like being a child again (yet it's different from that), only now there’s nothing to look forward to except a dismal future.

After leaving California, I flew to Chicago and am staying at my daughter’s apartment.  We will be going to see my mom at the nursing home tomorrow.   She was just moved to a new facility a little over a week ago and I haven’t spoken to her since that one time I was allowed to when she was in the hospital.  That was two weeks ago.   I really miss her, but I was told we needed to give her time to adjust.  

I called Kathy the other day to see if she had spoken to Mom and she said no.  She told me we can’t call her like we used to be able to because the nursing home won’t take calls for Mom like the assisted living center did.  I don’t know if that is true, but I will find out.  If it is, that means I need to come up with a plan, because I can’t go for months without talking to my mom.   Being 1,800 miles away means I need to be able to talk to her and hear her voice on the phone between visits.  I need her still!

Every time I come home I get anxious before I see my mom.  I wonder how much worse she’s gotten, and I wonder if she will remember my name.   Now I have new concerns…what is this nursing home going to be like?  Is it going to be a nice place, with caring and compassionate people who are caring for her?  Old concerns...will I see Renee while I am in town?  Will we be able to get along?

There’s no doubt I have been feeling very alone in my thoughts about my Mom.  Kathy and I talk on the phone every once in awhile and I told her how much I appreciate that we can talk to each other like sisters should.  Our conversations are usually pretty brief, but at least we are there for each other.  Annie and I don’t speak often but when we do we can be on the phone for hours.  I’m glad that I have them to talk to.  I told my daughter to call my sister Renee and apologize for what she said to her after I cried over that last email I received from her.  She did, and I am happy that she is there to support me, just as my other two children are.  

I know that we all go through challenges in life, and many times we are faced with things that almost seem unbearable.  Sometimes everything gets piled up at once and it can bring us down so low that it can destroy our quality of life, and it will, if you let it.  There’s a quote that goes like this…”Sometimes being pushed to the wall gives you the momentum necessary to get over it.”  

I have come to terms with a few things…I cannot change the course of my mom’s disease, she is not going to get better, I can’t save her, and I don’t want anymore drama with my sisters.  I have a life to live, and it is my choice whether it’s going to be a life of bitterness and sadness, or forgiveness and happiness.  I choose the latter.  Am I blissfully happy at this point, right now?  No.  But I am content and hopeful.  I have many blessings in my life and things to look forward to.  Even with this dismal part of my life with my mom’s disease, it is only a part of my life.  I keep reminding myself that the best gift I could give my mom is to live a life of happiness and a life worth remembering.   That’s what she always wanted for her daughters.   Even though it’s been a struggle sometimes, that’s what I’m doing for her, for me, for my kids, and for my grandchildren.  They deserve the best of me.   I deserve the best of me.  Mom deserves the best from her family.  Mom's legacy will live on. 

There's a place at Cornerstone in Sonoma where you can write a wish on a strand of ribbon and hang it from a chain.  All of these ribbons represent someone's wish, one of them is mine.  I have hope that my wish will come true.