When My Dad Died

My dad George was diagnosed with colon cancer about a year before I went into treatment for my cancer.  He had surgery and they didn't feel he needed chemotherapy or radiation. 

He was married to Kate, his second wife.  They had married when I was fourteen years old.  I would say they had a very close relationship.

It was upsetting when he was diagnosed and had surgery, but my dad talked like all was going well.  I think he didn't want to upset me.

Paul and I had moved in together Thanksgiving weekend before this.  I had found a suspicious lump in my left breast when we had gone to Texas in December to see my daughter Ronda and her family. I didn't want to spoil the time we were having so I waited until we were at the hotel by the airport before telling Paul and him feeling it.  He was so alarmed that he accused me of ignoring it.  I said that I slept on my stomach in the hotel bed we were at and I woke up feeling very sore and that was when I felt it.

When I had surgery in January, then chemotherapy, I cried a lot.  My dad and Kate were very supportive. Paul had a contract job in Macao and I urged him to do this.  Though being alone was very upsetting when my hair fell out.  Paul was calling home a lot and I couldn't stop crying, but I think hormones were the biggest problem, though there was a lot going on to feel sad.  I had to have surgery for something regarding the cancer and I asked dad and Kate if they would come up. They didn't hesitate.  While he was here, we went out some, and I got a sense that something was wrong with my dad but he denied it.

There seemed to be less and less communication from Kate and my dad.  That really worried me and I called leaving message that Kate needed to call me.  I was now getting scared, on the verge of hysteria and I wanted to be there for my dad if I could,  It turned out that the cancer had returned.  He complained regularly when he went in to see his doctor.  He had no energy and just wanted to lay down.  The doctor said he wasn't giving it time and it was just the healing process.  Well, that was not the case.  He went back in the hospital and they were talking about chemotherapy now.  Though when he had the first chemotherapy, he became very ill, so this was not something he could do.

I went to see him in the hospital.  He was miserable and snappy.  I walked out of the room and Kate said, "let's go to the cafeteria and get tea".  While there I was crying and Kate said "Your father doesn't mean to be nasty to you".  I told her I really did understand this, but that it was a shock seeing my dad this way and I didn't want him to feel bad and I felt helpless.

I asked Kate if she had thought about hospice care and she said "What's hospice?"  She did know what it was because I worked in hospice and told them about it.  I think it was more than she could handle hearing.  I said it would be good if dad could be home and that they would make that more of a possibility than not having them.  I ended up going home only to be called not that much later that dad was not well and hospice had started.

I headed back to their home and dad was really not well at all.  I called Ben and told him.  I sent messages to my sisters but they did not respond.  Ben was coming for a high school class reunion but decided to be with dad instead.  I stayed at the house and Ben got a hotel room.  I didn't think dad would live long so I came to stay calling work and letting them know.  Paul was very supportive but couldn't deal with this so he took a trip while I was with dad and Kate.  

Kate woke me up one night to ask me to help get dad back in bed.  He had fallen getting up to go to the bathroom.  I don't know how we did it, but we did.  Kate also thought he might be tempted to eat more if she got his favorite food which was Chinese.  He did get up to eat but said "if you had any idea what this was like for me, you wouldn't push this".  I did get a chance to tell my dad that he should have no regrets.  I thought he was a wonderful father.  My dad was telling us there was a mouse running along the wall of his room.  He'd say Whoop! and move his head as if it was moving very fast.  We kept watching but never saw this.  Then he said "Obie is here".  Now, this flabbergasted me, because my dad was not religious.  I asked him "What do you think about that?" He said "Interesting!"  I would have loved to ask more questions, but it seemed unfair.  He was so weak and all that we did was an effort for him. He seemed to slip into a coma pretty fast.  We each took turns sitting with dad or we were all in there.  Hospice had come out, brought medications for his comfort, they also send a home health  aide to give him a bed bath and a shave.  Kate came out and said "your dad wants you".  I crawled up on the bed to get near his face and said I was there.  He said "I'm cold and miserable."  The home health aide said "I'm just finishing up shaving him"  I repeated this to dad and asked if that was okay and he said "No".  Okay, he said no and that was what he wanted.  We stopped.  Ben, Kate and I were in the room with dad one evening and we all started crying.  Dad woke up and he said "What if I didn't want to die?"  We laughed and said maybe he wouldn't die (oh, if only our wishes could come true!).  He slipped back into a coma. Another time dad was saying, "Mama, mama".  I touched his shoulder to comfort him and he stopped saying anymore.

Kate called me to eat a bite of lunch.  We did and then Kate went in the room and called out "Rachel!"  I ran in.  My dad had stopped breathing sometime during our 20 minute lunch break.  We were crying.  I sent a message to Ben and Paul that dad died.  Ben didn't get the message.  Paul had returned and did.   We called hospice to inform them and they called the mortuary dad and Kate wanted. When Ben returned we sat together comforting each other and talking about what we wanted. Dad wanted to be cremated.  We had the ashes taken out to sea by the Neptune Society and had a memorial service for my dad in Pasadena.  Every time I cried I thought that this was a whole lot worse for Kate than me, because my dad was a major part of her like.

How Kate dealt with it was burying herself in her volunteer work at the Los Angeles Zoo and in her art work.  She is a master botanical artist.  Many of her friends had already lost spouses and advised her to stay busy.  She did it, but I think it was very hard.

For me, Paul and I were moving into a house we had built for us.  I kept turning to the phone to call dad then realizing that wasn't going to happen.  I probably allowed myself to grieve more openly than Kate, but our personalities are also very different.  Kate and I have developed a very good friendship and we keep in touch with each other regularly.  Ben also has been visiting and we make it a threesome for a week when we get together.  I've enjoyed that.

 

Back to current time.  I lost all the pictures I had on this blog.  I think I will look for another blog program because this was upsetting,  So now you know why there aren't pictures.  Besides, this is my brother's computer and my pictures are not on it.

The plane ride was uneventful except for a crying baby on the last 3 hours in the air. 

Lynn got to airport and was waiting for me. Lynn Repasky is a clinician at an adolescent residential treatment center and school. She has been there two years. Her boyfriend is John who is an accountant. (my Paul was a CPA!  Hmmmm!!  What is this social work and financial?!).  We worked together at a prison. We are both social workers and were case managers there.

We went to her apartment which is bigger than the last one. Her dog Zack remembered me but did not like face to face contact from me.  We went for bagels and lox (my favorite  breakfast) in the morning then soon after we took off for Manhattan to meet my brother at the hotel where he got rooms for us

We had pizza at Grimaldi's in Brooklyn. In an area called DUMBO (Down Under Manhattan Bridge Overpass).  The  arts and fashion photography are the main activities in this area.  Lynn had taken Barbara Rodriguez and I when we were here last time and it was fabulous. It still was good, but it was moved to a much larger building next door from where it had been. Went to see what was in that building now and there was a large article on the window how the owner sold Grimaldi's name.  I didn't read the whole article, but what is in its place is another pizza restaurant owned by the original Grimaldi's owner and now called Julianna's.  The place looked empty even though there was this great review on the window. 

We went to the 9/11 Memorial and Museum. It was quite touching. I understand tickets are free Tuesday evenings (when we were there). You do need to make a reservation.  We parted with Lynn when we got back to our hotel.  Great visit with her.

The next day Ben and I went to The Museum of Modern Art and then to see The Fantasticks, and enjoyable musical.

The following day we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Both museums were excellent, but they are so big that if you don't have days to spend there, it is a better idea to focus on a couple of areas to explore.  We took a train back to Connecticut.  Much less stress that way.

My legs were so sore and felt rubbery walking so much. We took it easy and I worked on my art at Ben's home.  So I drew a chicken and a goat. The chicken I drew upside down except with the head.  I turned it multiple directions to get the right dimensions. That really does help. I forgot to take the directions to draw the goat, but I did bring a book that had guidelines. I also worked on drawing loops to loosen my hand.

The following day we took it easy again.  I really needed the rest. We ate out for our meals because neither of us were open to cooking. We did go to the store to buy salad fixings for the following day. We were going to have dinner with his friends Roy and Emily,  Trip and Donna.

In the morning we went to The New Britain Museum of American Art.  I loved it!  It was the right size. We could actually see all the art there. There was a special exhibit Glass Today: 21st-Century Innovations. I particularly liked two of the glass wall pieces that used light to reflect some od the glass work.  The artists were Sydney Cash, born 1941, the piece called Kemosabe, 2012 and Stephen Knapp, born 1947, and the piece is called Done for the Night, 2008.

We drove to Hartford, not a long drive to Roy's and Emily's home. How lovely!  It is over a hundred years old and well maintained.  Lots of character and many nooks and crannys. Donna made an appetizer and Emily made the bulk of the meal. The men are AA members. They didn't seem to have an issue with the women having a glass of wine.  Good company and good talk.  It was great to meet them all (though I had met Roy years ago). Ben talks about them all the time, so now I have faces to go with the names,

There was an article n The Hartford Courant on dealng with loss. There was a picture as a part of the article that was at The New Britain a museum depicting the effect off 9/11 on us.  The mural had been commissioned by someone who lost their child in that horrible event.  It's called Coping with Loss over the Centuries. 

http://touch.courant.com/#section/2224/article/p2p-81292711/

Today we went to visit our cousin Helen and her husband Alan.  We went to their lake house in Sutton Massachusetts.  Very nice people. Had wonderful food prepared by Alan.  He has been a chef and at one time had his own health food restaurant in New York.  There home was really nice and they continue to work on it.  The conversation was great.

Before we went back to Ben's home we went to see a plaque in honor of our Uncle Elias Snitzer in Southbridge and where American Optical used to be.  He was head of the team that developed the glass laser.

My granddaughter-in-law Meagan (I've been misspelling her name), Billy's wife took another picture of Conner this week that I would have liked to share.  Sorry I can't  You might get double the dose of pictures next week.

I go home tomorrow.  I'll see you next Sunday.                 Rachel

See you next Sunday!           Rachel

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What Happens When You Think You Should Be There for Everyone Else?

About ten months before mom died, Paul and I were in the process of helping to pull off a wedding for Shelley and her fiancé Steve in Paul's backyard. We had caterers coming the next day.  I was out getting a dress for the occasion on Friday. When I walked in the door, my mom said Paul had called and was very upset. I called him back and he said that Shelley called and said Steve and his cousin may have drowned in the Kern River.  I kept saying, "no, no, it can't be!"  I headed to Paul's home and we went to Shelley's apartment where Steve's parents and several of her friends were. Paul took Shelley in his arms trying to comfort her. She was devastated, grieving having just heard they did find Steve's and his cousin's bodies lodged under rocks in the Kern River. This river is deceptively calm because there are strong current below the surface.  Apparently Steve, his cousin and a friend decided to dive into an area where the water pooled.  After Steve and his cousin dove in, the friend seeing that they didn't appear went for help.

Here we were planning a wedding and then we are planning a funeral. I told Steve's parents I would do anything to help. I said to Shelley I thought she would be more comfortable at her dad's home. I told her we would get her mother over and she needed to be surrounded by people she loved and who loved her.  Paul was really irritated with me saying I would help Steve's parents anyway I could, "because there is nothing you can do". I told him if I could help I would.

That evening we are calling to cancel the caterers and other services which were to be here on Saturday.  We had called the tuxedo company because Shelley wanted Steve to be buried in it. They charged their full fee.  Shelley also wanted her bridal party to wear the dresses for the wedding. This was particularly rough to see since it brought it all home that it was now a funeral and not a wedding.

We started calling family and friends to let them know.  Several were driving from Texas and we had no way of reaching them. They were on their way.  Early the next morning Steve's mom called and said she wanted help in doing the funeral. I said I'd accompany her to the mortuary. As Paul and I were dressing for the day, we would look at each other and fall into each others arms crying. He was my support and I his.

Because of the circumstances, it made it to the news. News people were coming by and most of us didn't want to deal with them. Someone agreed to be the spokesperson.

We went to the mortuary and worked on that arrangement to occur on Monday.  Steve's cousin's parents made arrangements for his body to return to Wisconsin and they had already left. Steve's parents wanted a service here, then fly Steve's body back to Wisconsin where there would be another service and Steve's body would be buried there. We worked on getting bereavement airfares for them. On top of this a friend Sandra used her contacts to get a discount rate to drive Shelley and Steve's parents to go by limousine to the airport.

It is Saturday morning after coming back from the mortuary. Most people coming are aware of what happened. Shelley had very poor sleep the night before. She was lethargic and disconnected, exactly how she would be after a death so close. Lots of food was being delivered by friends. I took on the role of hostess and worker bee. I laid out the food, made sure everyone had what they needed, picking up trash, mopped and swept.  Shelley's mom was there to comfort Shelley. Family came from Texas, the men in their tuxedos not knowing the turn of events. Shelley's grandmother was very kind to me.

Shelley was so exhausted I suggested she lie down for a nap. Later when she woke up she was crying. I asked her what was going on, she said she was dreaming she was Steve and she felt she couldn't breath, she was drowning. I couldn't help but touch Shelley to comfort  her.  I really wanted to hold her. It made sense to me, but I had nothing to say to make it better.

At the funeral on Monday, we sat at the front. I was struck by all the dresses of the bridal  party and gasped at what it meant. I had forgotten they were doing this.  The limousine came as ordered to take Shelley and Steve's parents to the airport in Los Angeles, a good two hour drive.

For months after this, people asked me how was Shelley, how was Shelley's family. I would let everyone know they were still grieving but doing better as time passed. The problem was that I was also grieving. But, being the Director of Social Services, I was trying to deal with it as a professional and not as a family member. That was the problem. I was family and I wasn't dealing with my grief. I needed to do that. The next time I was asked how Shelley and the family were doing, I said "We're not doing very well.  Especially me right now because I haven't been dealing with my feelings at all. I'm not doing well". 

So, belatedly I started letting myself grieve. It was only when I started this that I started to feel better. What did I do?  I cried. I thought about all that happened and the people I loved. I talked to people about it all.  I didn't push myself. I let it happen in its own time. And it did.

So what did I learn?  Being the professional doesn't cut it if you are involved with the parties involved. I think delaying your grief is in general is a bad idea because other things can occur that just complicates that grief. I have seen that a lot in others.  When working in hospice I was told I was telling them to hurt.  Well, yes.  It is a process.  It is not an event.  If you don't allow yourself to go through it, you can't fully heal.  It is a hard lesson.

I read A Grief Observed by C. S. Louis recommended by my friend Mike who lost his first wife to cancer. Mr. Louis was honest with his feelings and you could hear and feel how overwhelmed he was in the beginning. That was certainly how I felt. The writing was his way of coping and healing. It seemed to help.  It was apparent he was doing better at the end of this writing.  It was written in 1961. 

I had the second and final session on Chalk Pastels with Kay Wilson at Art for Healing. It was so helpful to watch the artist at work as she was explaining why she does each stroke. So informative and relaxing. Below are pictures of a  sunset on the beach and a fall scene in a meadow. Last week she spent time on color and blending it.  I'm getting braver with color.  My horizon line is not straight.  I really need to use a ruler!

Beach Sunset

Autumn Meadow

My class with Carol Bradshaw was very good as usual. I'm still working on my parrots. I need to transfer it to better quality paper and work more on details. We are starting on goats. I need to have the outline done by the next class.  I've made several tries and they look odd.  I'll still work on it.  We have been talking about changing to watercolor and we will start in September instead of drawing. We will of course return to drawing. We will work on an owl later and we also will be working on people. Cost is an issue for not doing both mediums at the same time for my fellow student and me.

Outline of a Goat

I took another one of the introduction classes at The Bakersfield Art Center. This was in oil pastels and the instructor was Phyllis Oliver.  She is very good at explaining things and I gained a lot in the class. We played around with color combinations which was very helpful, then watched as she "painted" a picture of gladiolus and then we tried it.  Below is what I did.  I didn't know if I could be there every week in her  regular class but she said at this time it was a drop in session of three hours and people were working on a variety of projects. That would work for me.

gladiolus in oil pastel on fine sandpaper

I was fortunate enough to get the last slot in drawing with Nina Landgraff at Bakersfield College.  The price is right and she is a good teacher. It is the same as last year, but she said she changes it some each time she teaches it.  It starts in September.

Janet picked me up for my appointment with Dr. Wong.  I was so anxious to get this cast off and hoping that would happen.  Well it did.  I have mixed feelings about it. My skin feels so sensitive and my arm is stiff and sore.  I know that is to be expected, but there was a part of me in Fantasyland hoping it would be much easier.  Dr. Wong stated the hardest part will be the therapy and big men have been brought to tears when the therapist worked with them.  That makes me anxious. I know I need it.  My wrist and my fingers barely move. I worry if I push it too much I could break a bone.  We were at Dr. Wong's at least two hours so Janet and I had a late lunch at Mexicali's. Neither of us ate until we were there.  The margaritas did me in, I think because of no food earlier.  I came home and went to sleep not waking until 6:30 in the evening.  I had wanted to see Norma Neil's watercolor demonstration, but my energy was way down by then.

Swollen and Minimal Range of Motion

Meaghan has some cute videos of Conner but I have trouble getting those on here.  He is talking a blue streak, very alert and wants to play.  He is growing fast.

That is it for the week.  Hope to see you here next Sunday.        Rachel