I read this excellent book by Meghan O'Rourke called The Long Goodbye. I would have liked to get it on Kindle, but it was unavailable that way. I was able to get it in paperback. It was published in 2011. Meghan's mom was diagnosed with late stage colorectal cancer. She had a warm, loving relationship with her mom and it is about coming to terms with the dying and eventual death of her mom.
My relationship with my mother could not be described as warm, it did have its moments of warmth and love, but, generally I would not describe it like that. When my parents both worked, my mom would put me in charge to get the kids to do their chores before they came home. Well, who is going to listen to their older sister when the age range was less than five years for the four of us and I really had no power to get them to do what they were supposed to do. Of course, they told on me every time and my mom said I was "the bad apple in the barrel". She was very opinionated and judgmental. She and my dad really encouraged education, reading, and not accepting abuse of people. Those were all positive. I have fond memories of camping during summers. We used to read books out loud taking turns at the dining room table. These experiences were wonderful.
My mother wrote a lot but it was not published. She did send it in but I think the rejection letters were disheartening to her. She did do a review of one of Dorothy Parker's books and it was on the back cover of the dust jacket.
My mother would look for different ways to solve problems, some of them made us think of Lucy, as in Lucille Ball.
One example of this was when she changed one of our bedrooms to a store so we would not want to walk to the store because she was concerned about traffic. The problem was that we told all the neighbor kids about it and there was a long line of them out the door to make their purchases. That store ended that day.
Another time, she became so frustrated with us taking the towels wrapping them around us and leaving them in our bedrooms that she sewed the towels to the towel rack. The problem was that we figured out how to undo the towel rack to get the towels, however, we did realize we had to get them back, or she'd figure out what we had done.
And then, another time, we four kids were sick at the same time, so my mother took all our beds and lined them up in the living room like a hospital ward to care for us.
There were many more and it made our family very interesting. Probably my dad had some issues with this. I remembering them arguing and hated that, though I don't know what the specifics were.
So what was my issue? Most of it started when I hit high school and my parents separated and divorced. I think some of my issues were age related, but my mother started ridiculing me for trying to make myself look okay. Her politics became really odd and I couldn't accept it. My sense was that she was encouraging my siblings to jump on the bandwagon in being contemptuous and dismissive of me. The relationship with my sisters was particularly strained.
She felt a need to demean me and really seemed to know how to aim those arrows. It was very painful.
So, years later my mother said she needed to move in with me or she would die. I couldn't handle being responsible for her death, so I moved her up to Bakersfield to live with me. At that time I was in the process of adopting my daughter Ronda who was ten. I had told my mother that we had to set ground rules and she agreed. It was interesting how fast we fell into old patterns. So destructive!
Nine years later, it became very obvious that mom wasn't doing well. She finally agreed to see a doctor. Mom was 64 at the time and had no insurance. The doctor she chose was willing to deal with her illness as she desired. My mother had an inverted nipple which had occurred recently, but she refused to deal with that and made it clear to her doctor that didn't want to hear about cancer.. She did have COPD and her weight had dropped below 100 pounds and she was 5'6", so I sensed she probably didn't have long to live. I wrote my two sisters and my brother laying out her condition, but they never responded.
We went along like this for several months until I woke up one morning and found my mom crawling on the floor in the family room. When I asked her what she was doing, she said she was trying to find a way out of the basement. We had a concrete slab foundation, ranch style one floor home. She said there were people after her. I asked who and she didn't know. I assured her we didn't have a basement. I also told her I wouldn't let anyone harm her. She seemed a little better and said I could go to work. I so wanted it all to be okay that I decided to go on to work. I was the Director of Social Services in a local hospital. My friend Janet worked there as the Nuclear Medicine Technologist. She was my confidante. Thank goodness I had her to discuss these issues. It kept me going.
During this period Janet lived three blocks away from me. I needed a break from my mom and told her I was going to visit Janet. When I walked in, it was clear to her I was very stressed. She pulled out a small stash of grass and rolled a joint for us to share. We were also having a glass of wine. Both of us got carried away talking about a variety of things. Well we were laughing so much that tears were coming down both of our faces. It felt so good that we discussed how we could make artificial tears and we figured we were going to make millions of dollars. We have never forgotten this and have wondered what was so special about our idea from what was out there. Well I stayed there late and Paul called to say my mother called him asking where I was. Paul said "probably with Janet smoking dope". I said "You didn't". He said "I did". "How could you tell her that?!" Paul said "You were weren't you?" Ugh! He had never done this and probably was irritated my mom called him since she would not acknowledge him.
My mother turned 65 and got Medicare. Thank was a relief! The situation was getting worse. One day, I came home and found my mom sitting on her stool in the kitchen. She was lethargic and could hardly talk. I asked her if she wanted me to take her to the emergency room and she nodded yes. In the ER, the doctor asked if I wanted life support for my mom, because if they did that, it was highly unlikely she would ever get off it. I said I was not comfortable making that decision for her and I would ask her. I told my mom what the doctor said and she said no to life support. I was choked up after doing this. She was admitted to the hospital and put on a medical floor.
I called my father to tell him what was happening. He asked me if I had informed my sisters and brother and I told him I had not. He told me I had no right to keep this information from them. I told him about the letter I wrote and that no one responded. He told me to give them another chance. So I did call them and let them know. I told them I didn't expect mom to live long and that they might want to visit her. They all agreed to make arrangements to visit. I also called her sister on the east coast who said she would come out. Everyone asked me if I was sure she would die. I said there was no sure way of me knowing, but did they want to take the chance.
Mom had trouble finding the words she wanted to say to express herself. She also was hallucinating. She became angry with me stating she couldn't imagine why they would call names like "Dr. Butcher Knife, Dr. Butcher Knife". Dr. Blood Letter, Dr. Blood Letter". My mother loved mystery books and read them constantly. I'm sure that was a part of this. I told her that I hadn't heard that and didn't know any doctors by that name. She also said we were carting bodies out the back. (Though we may have, it wasn't how she described). The carts she described were used for removing dirty laundry. The nurses in turn found her funny and other times frustrating. They had put a restraint on her because she kept trying to get up, then falling. Mom asked me to bring her cup that she used to hold little things. One of the items were very old dull embroidery scissors. My mother used that to cut through this vest thread by thread, even through thick straps. When they came to her room and found her on her knees on the floor, she explained she was praying. (Believe me,she was not praying).
They were talking about discharging her and I knew she needed more help. The nurses who worked with me in discharge planning made an arrangement for her to go to a nursing facility. My brother and father came while mom was still in the hospital and were warm and supportive. Ben visited mom. Their relationship had been strained and I was glad they met again after ten years. My Aunt Shirley, my mother's sister came. We went for a drive up a dirt mountain road and took pictures of the wild flowers besides visiting mom. One of my sisters and I visited a few nursing homes and found ourselves very teary seeing mom come to this end. One of the directors of nurses seemed affronted that we would cry feeling we were making a negative judgement of his facility.
I was called into a meeting with a variety of staff at the facility. They wanted to put a feeding tube down her. I asked them if they had asked her and I was told "No, we are asking you". I told them my mother can still answer a specific question and if she said yes, I'd go along with her wishes. I also explained that eating was a big thing in our family. We did so much talking at the table. I didn't think that a tube would be what she would want. For the rest of our time there, I got such bad looks, like I was trying to kill my mother. It made me angry since I felt I knew her much better than them.
One day while working I get a call from Paul, who was the CFO at the same hospital where I worked. Our relationship had been going for six years at this time. We each had our own homes but got together on weekends at his home. My mom would never accept him no matter how much he tried. She was threatened that he would take me away from her. So, on this particular day, Paul tells me my mom called him. I'm shocked and tell him so. He tells me he was shocked too. So I asked what it was about. "It was something about the food, and then she asked me what I was going to do about it. I told her I was calling you and you would deal with it". So I went over and she points to her tray and the menu. The words don't make sense to me at all but I finally look at the menu she checked and what she got. Nothing she checked did she get. I asked to speak with whoever was in charge of this. The head of dietary came to the room. She explained they didn't have the food she checked. I explained that they had an obligation to give someone what they asked for if they gave the person choices and if it required that they go to a local store to get the supplies, then I felt this was reasonable. Otherwise, you don't give people choices.
Two weeks after mom entered the nursing home, she died, the day after Mothers Day. That was the first time I ever understood that my heart could actually physically ache. They called and said to come right now. Two of my co-workers went with me and when I walked in I was intercepted and I said "she died didn't she?" "Yes" she said. I lost it. I was wailing. My friends called Paul to let him know. I demanded to see my mom (they weren't trying to keep me away from her). I was struck by how peaceful she looked.
I went back to work not sure what I was supposed to do. I met Janet for lunch and told her my mom died. She then asked "What are you doing here?" It's like I didn't get what the next step was. It turned out I had locked my keys in the car and had to wait for the auto club. I had an appointment to get new tires and I went for that sitting there numbly still trying to figure out what I was supposed to do. The man came out to tell me there was a little delay and I told him "Not too long. My mom just died". They finished fast. When I got home I called family and asked each to pass the word to others. My sisters said they were coming right away.
Mom had told me to use The Neptune Society years before. I had called maybe three weeks earlier. I asked if we could be there when they put the ashes in the ocean. I was told they were not set up for that and it would be going to the Bay Area. I was told we could make our own arrangements, pick up the ashes, then call charter boats on the coast. They used a local mortuary and one of my sisters and I picked up her ashes. My sisters were staying at the house and each of us took on responsibilities to get it all done. On the day we went to Ventura, Paul, my daughter Ronda and her son Billy, my grandson I talk about a lot these days who was perhaps 4 months old, my sisters and I had my mother's ashes. We went out three miles and we each wrote something about mom and read those. I brought a screw driver because I couldn't figure out how we would open this box. It turned out it was welded shut at one point. Thank goodness Paul was there to deal with it. So, the ashes were in a plastic bag with a twisty. It did not all look like all ash. There were little bits of bone. Someone later said we could have had it ground. Ugh!
We had lunch at a seaside restaurant at the marina. I remember my sisters saying they would not have anything to do with our brother Ben since he wasn't there. My brother said he could come while she was alive, or after she died. I thought seeing her before she died was more important. I explained this but that was not acceptable.
How was I coping? Not very well. I slept poorly, I cried off and on for months. I felt like an outsider in the world. I thought it was amazing how everything was going as if a big thing did not just happen. I could not tolerate trivial discussions. Work was difficult. I could not invest myself emotionally. I had none left to give. I could only handle the information part. I felt like an automaton. And, I decided that there was a whole lot of stuff that wasn't really important and I didn't care about a lot of things I thought were so important up to that point. I did notice the intensity of my grief lessened and it hit me less often as time passed.
People really varied in how they responded to me. There was much avoidance on their part. Some who would reach out would say the oddest things such as, "Well she is
in a much better place". Perhaps that works for some people who see their loved ones in heaven. I wasn't raised with that and never could accept that later. Besides, usually, we don't want them to go, so it is our feeling of abandonment that is the issue.
A year after mom's death I was asked to give a talk to staff about grieving. I wasn't asked because of my grieving, but because I had given many talks on issues like this. I didn't want to do it, but I didn't want to tell this man why. He kept bugging me about doing this and I finally gave in agreeing to give the talk. Two men were also to talk, the chaplain of the hospital and the head of the Employee Assistance Program. So I thought abut what I would say and thought I would talk about what was helpful and what was not helpful when mom was dying and when she did die. I started off fine enough then all of a sudden, I stopped and looked at everyone. My eyes welled up with tears and my audience followed in kind. I wanted to run away and thought I couldn't do this. I kept staring at everyone and swallowing the tears threatening to head south. No one said anything. Eventually I said "Obviously I'm not through with my grieving and I can't go on. You guys need to take over". Well that changed how we all were going to talk. They each talked about their person grief issues and what they were doing.. Afterwards the man who asked me to talk came up and "That was great! Let's do that every year!" Oh yeah, that is what I want to do.
How did I try to deal with it? I thought about it and found people to talk to. I did go to a bereavement group. I didn't stay long. I didn't want to hear about anyone else's issues. I was completely into me. I did a very complicated puzzle of a mountain site that I could hear my mom saying to my dad "George, let's pitch the tent there". It took me four months. I did it each night I came home from work. I ended up framing it and putting it on the wall opposite my mom's bed and putting curtains on the sides so it gave me a sense of the scene out the window. I had taken my mother to Hawaii with me when I was the local president of a service organization Quota Club. Their annual meeting was there that year. Mom loved Hawaii Five-O for the scenery so this was her chance to see it. I got a calendar for the next year which was the year she died. I had it up in her room. I would go in her room once a month to change the calendar and I talked to my mom about our trip and what was currently happening and how I was feeling. It felt good to unburden myself.
This is an abbreviated version of what I went through. Even though my relationship was not good much of the time, I think that I kept trying to make it work. I think I missed what I was never going to have with my mom which was a warm and loving relationship as the basis of our relationship. She came from a family where her father was abusive and was dropped off at farms as her father would look for work. She didn't do well in relationships, but she sure knew how to teach. Too bad she never got a chance other than tutoring ( which she had incredible breakthroughs with kids in reading and spelling) and working with us (which made us love learning, reading and doing a good job). Another thing I learned to do was to forgive her. I think she was really hurting. But, I didn't do it for her. I did it for me. I didn't want to continue hurting. It helps.
It's painful, even now to think of all this, but there is also a release as if I'm letting go, and this is twenty- three years after she died. It's hard to believe it is that long ago. How have you dealt with deaths close to you? I will share how it was with other losses. Similar but different.
Back to current time, I has my art class with Carol. I hadn't worked on my art these two weeks. I've had a lot of arm pain and back pain I think from waiting on taking pain medication because my pain has been lessening and doing more because I've felt better. So I'm learning not to overdo it and not wait until the pain is back before taking something. I want to be ahead of the pain. Otherwise, it can take up to two days before it is under control. Below is a picture of two parrots I'm working on.
I also took a class at The Art and Spirituality Center on Pastels by Kay Wilson. I'm learning more on colors.
I also took an intro course on watercolor with Norma Neil. I didn't do very well, but Carol happen to be there at the same time and found a picture within the picture. I was amazed and gave it to Toni to frame. When that is done, I'll show it. I will sign up for Norma's watercolor course. I need to learn more about it.
My granddaughter-in- law Meaghan did a thorough cleaning of my home. Amazing! It looks fabulous We agreed on every other week. I don't think future cleanings would take as long. Billy and Dainette (Meaghan's mom) came by during this time. I enjoyed the visit. There was a dead baby possum on my front lawn and animal control said they got calls for another possum and a cat in the same area. They suspect poisoning and said they would come by to get it. I have a problem with people killing animals. It makes me angry and sad. I'm glad my kitties are house cats.
My friend Barbara and I went out for an early dinner at Chef's Choice Noodle House and to see the movie "Hundred-Foot Journey". It just came out and was a really great movie. I highly recommend it.
Here are the latest pictures of Conner. Billy was at my mom's memorial at about the same age.
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| Conner Exhausted after His First Shots |
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| Conner Attempting to Sit Up |
Well that's it for this week. Hope everyone is taking care of themselves. See you next Sunday. Rachel
