Saying Goodbye

Mom passed away on August 16th at 8:40 AM. We were not with her, but a trusted aide was. We had been at her bedside for many vigilant hours and yet no family member was there to hold her hand as she left this world. Perhaps she willed that to be the case, or the high fever from the pneumonia dictated the end-- either way, I hate to think of her being alone.

We had a very respectful funeral filled with beautiful eulogies by three of her grandsons,
and me. We followed the traditional Shiva period, and will say Kaddish for her. But, now the real work begins. There are only a few loose ends and then what?  Everyone returns to regular life schedules but the profound sense of loss is daunting. Who else will ever love me so unconditionally, or understand my facial expressions and needs the way my lifelong friend/my mother, was able to do?  Who could ever say volumes with a twinkle of a blue eye or share an inside joke the way that she could? Who else will spend sleepless nights thinking about a solution to something that bothers me? The answer is there is no one to take her place. She was everything I needed when I was growing up and she transitioned so aptly to being a cheerleader, friend and confidant when I was grown.  Of course dementia robbed us both of the last six and a half years, but in that time I hope I was able to calm her fears and honor the devotion she always gave me with the love and care I provided. It will never feel that I did enough since she spent the better part of her life giving me her all and my meager 6 years can't compare.

I know she loved me, and I know she understood the depth of my love for her. It's just that saying goodbye is not easy. I try to take comfort in knowing that she no longer has to meet the indignities of dementia or suffer. I know that she was loved and respected by so many who knew her and I know that her lessons go on through me to the next generation. I just think I would never be ready to say goodbye and yet, I have no choice.

Mom, I will love you and miss you for all the days I have breath. Rest in peace❤️

One Day at a Time

Mom developed pneumonia a few weeks ago and as you could guess it has weakened her terribly.  She was on two IV antibiotics and IV dextrose.  She was unable to speak, had trouble breathing and deteriorated so badly that I was asked how aggressively we wish to treat her.  I signed a DNR and DI ( do not intubate).  My brother and I were asked to consider a PIC line in the hospital because she kept pulling out the IV, but we resisted that.  We hesitate to hospitalize her because she would only become more confused, would have less attention than she now gets from nurses and aides who know and like her, and she might pick up another infection. I have since requested hospice care and she qualified.  We understand that hospice doesn't mean that death is imminent, but it does mean that she has lost a lot of ground from this infection and it is likely that she will not fully recover.  We are hopeful, but realistic.  She's 91--has dementia, macular degeneration, and is deaf.  Her quality of life has been deteriorating on a regular basis and it is painful to watch her lose more and more of herself in the process.

I find myself depressed and angry.  She was always so respected for her ability to think intelligently that this indignity seems grossly unfair. It is daunting to see her so diminished. Of course at 91 the body eventually wears out. I hope she can recoup some strength, but being realistic means facing the quality of her life, and my wish is for her to not suffer. I think she was right when she said "Getting old is not for sissies."