Playing along

12.11.2008

Mom was also one of the people that I never felt I had to talk down to. Yeah, sure, I was smarter than her and we both knew it (I'm not conceited, just showing off how good Mom raised me!), but often times I think Mom would say something to set me up for a smart comeback that would make us both chuckle. At least half the time I would make something up, and I think she would go along with it just to see how long she could fool me back.

Mom's anxiety meds would lead to some short-term memory loss, usually around 20-40 minutes after taking them she would get frustrated for not remembering something silly, which would in turn make her a little anxious. One of the first things I would do when I went to see Mom would be to ask her what day it was. In the beginning she usually got it wrong as she had no way to keep up with time since she was in the RV the majority of the day. The weather had been getting colder and the days were more overcast, so mornings and evening looked deceptively similar when you're taking a lot of naps and get awakened to take some scheduled meds.

There were 4 or 5 of us taking turns staying with and helping out Mom. She had started to overcome her confusion on what day it was by remembering the schedule that certain people were on. I would show up on Saturday and head back home on Sunday, so when Mom first say me and I would ask her what day it was, she was pretty sure "Saturday" was the right answer. After a couple of times of seeing she had that figured out, I started throwing in "morning or night" which she managed to figure out most of the time, too. Finally I asked her "ok, so what month is it?" and she would figure out the right month.

Silly little questions, but she would play along with me.

Sometimes Mom would just say things that would make you wonder what was going on in her head - maybe she was half asleep and dreaming? More often than not these were little things that had gotten her mental schedule out of whack since she may have been taking a nap or some such. One afternoon Terry had left to go to Wal-Mart, and 15 minutes later Mom asked me if Terry was supposed to get back from work that night. I would explain that he wasn't at work, just at Wal-Mart, and you could see the frustration in her face that said "I knew that".

My favorite one of those (whatever it should be called) was one Sunday morning when Mom woke up 30 minutes before the time to take her morning meds. She got up and was drinking some Ensure. As i sat down on the bed next to her she looked at me and asked "Did everybody show up for the wedding?"

"What wedding, Mom?" I asked.

She closed her eyes and shook her head a couple of times. "The wedding that didn't happen." You could see the silent "Duh" added by her eyes as she went back to her Ensure."

"It's not as much fun if you don't play along, Ma". I should have made up something really good about that wedding!

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Mom was on some new drugs!

12.10.2008

A couple of months back, Hospice had changed around the drugs that Mom was taking and we were all getting used to the new combination and schedule. Mom was still able to get around the house and go outside for a cigarette when she needed one, but often times her brain was acting a little faster than her body could keep up with.

One Saturday I took Gina up to see her and Terry, and my grandparents and Mom's youngest sister were up for a visit too. Mom was having a bad day and spent the majority of everyones visit in bed/napping. Terry was taking time to catch everyone up on what was going on, especially with how to help out on giving Mom her meds. Besides her chemo (or whatever was in both an ointment and a suppository she took), she was also taking meds for anxiety, nausea, and pain.

The day progressed and Terry had to go to work while grandparents and aunt went back to Alabama. Gina and I got Mom to eat a potato from Wendys in preparation of giving her the dinner-time dose of meds. About 15 minutes after eating she downed a handful of pills. About 15 minutes after that I noticed she was getting fidgety. "You want to go outside for a cigarette?" I asked. "Yep" she replied, then quickly stood up and headed underneath the kitchen sink.

From underneath the sink Mom started pulling out cleaning supplies. I looked at Gina and both our eyebrows arched in a silent "What the hell?". I looked again at Mom. "What'cha doing, Mom?" I asked. "Got to get my mask" she answered back. What kind of a mask do you need for a smoke break? Gina quickly thought and said "Lucy, it's cold outside so why don't we get you a heavier jacket." "Ok" said Mom, and she stood up from the kitchen sink and started heading up the stairs to the bedroom. Gina cut her off and headed into the bedroom, where mom directed her to the closet with a heavier jacket. Gina brought it back and we bundled up Mom. We headed out the door when Mom stopped and looked at me, "Have you got the key?" she asked. "We're just going outside, I don't think we need the key, Mom." With that she nodded her head and went out the door. She was starting to head past her outdoor chair and table when I distracted her with her pack of cigarettes. "Here Mom, sit down and have a smoke." I can't believe I'm bribing my Mom cigarettes, but I have no idea where she's heading. She sites down and lights one up, then proceeds to tell Gina and I about the rabbits and armadillo in the neighbors yard that nobody else could see. After another 20 minutes or so, I put Mom to bed and dosed her up with some liquid morphine that was on the schedule.

Afterwards, while taking a breath and catching up from everything going on, Gina told me that when we were heading out of the door with Mom she had asked if we were going to dinner, then Gina reminded her that she had already eaten a potato for dinner. It took a couple of days, but I thought about that and Mom's craziness suddenly started to make sense. When I asked Mom if she wanted a cigarette, she was thinking we were going out. She was paranoid about crowd and germs, and as such would often wear a little paper mask when she went out in public (which she thought was under the sink!). While sitting outside, I looked and the shadows of various plants and general crap around the RV did kind of look like animals - a rabbit I could maybe see, so I'll give her the benefit of the doubt on the armadillo.

The next week Hospice got an update on how Mom was doing and along the way her anxiety meds went from a regular schedule to as needed. Her morphine got dropped back too. Looking back, it seems that's the combo for short term memory loss and seeing imaginary animals.

But I'll never forget "Want a cigarette" followed by a mad dash underneath the kitchen sink.

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My last conversation with Mom

12.09.2008

Mom was on a nice little combination of pain killers, anti-anxiety, and anti-nausea meds. When she managed to take the whole combination fairly close to one another, her mind would go off somewhere else for a little while. I had learned to pay attention to what Mom was seeing, because her "out there" sentences would actually make sense if you listened and looked at things from her perspective.

I was propped up in bed watching Steel Magnolias on TNT with Mom. That right there should show what a good son I am. Steel Magnolias! I happened to notice that there were an awful lot of commercials for kids toys, especially the educational/electronic toys like Leapfrog. This was Thanksgiving weekend, so it only made sense to try and hype the toys.

We were nearing the end of the movie where everything gets emotional and Julia Roberts is about to die (sorry if I just ruined Steel Magnolias for anyone). Mom is sitting propped up in the bed and suddenly says "I bet Jerry would know."

This caught me totally by surprise. "Jerry would know what, Mom?"

"Why all these kids hit anything with a one or a zero. " she told me.

Ahh, she's been paying attention to the toy commercials. Luckily I had been paying attention! "Yeah, I bet he would know", I told Mom. "But what if he didn't?"

Mom twisted her face in thought and kind of bit in one corner of her mouth. With a slight sigh she said "I bet he'd just make something up."

I gave out a laugh as I told her I agreed. She knows Jerry pretty well. When I told Jerry this little story, he agreed too.


I don't show up in many pictures, as such there are few pictures with both me and Mom. Here's one from Jer and Elaine's wedding on Nov 15, 1997

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Missing Mom

12.08.2008

It hasn't quite been a week since Mom died. It's been an emotional week, that's for sure. For a big, burly manly-man I've been crying a lot more than I thought I would. They're good, therapeutic cries. They catch me off guard, after a minute or so I actually end up asking myself "What the hell is this about?"

I cried when I went back and saw her empty bed, and then I sat there petting her pillow as I told Terry how proud I was of him for pulling through everything as well as he did. I cried in Gina's arms as I told her that Mom had died 15 minutes earlier. Those I understand, but it's the little cries that pop-up when no one else (I know) is around.

I was at Bed Bath & Beyond replacing my George Foreman Grill - don't accidentally dunk them in the dishwater - and wandered in the cleaning aisle. I stopped around and remembered the last time I stood there was with Mom. Then I had a little cry in front of the Roombas.

I was driving to Gina's for an impromptu dinner & date night. Along the way I had that feeling in the back of my head - it's been about a week since I talked to Mom, I should catch up with her. Then I remembered I can't make that phone call any more. I cried all the way to Gina's.

Right now I think of how much I miss Mom, and I can't see the fucking keyboard because of the tears in my eyes.

The timing for the end was right for Mom. Her pain had been increasing, her breathing was getting raspier each time I saw her. Everyone tries to comfort me by saying she's in a better place, but just knowing she's not hurting anymore makes it ok with me. I've been sharing stories with friends and family over the past week, stories that I think show what Mom was really like. Some stories are funny, some are sad, all are true. I'll probably put some of those stories here over the next week, both for therapeutic purposes and to make sure I remember them later.

I'd like to thank everyone who's sent their condolences and offered their support. It's comforting to know there's people out there thinking of me (and Mom). I'd make a list but I don't want to leave anyone out unintentionally, so for now I offer up a blanket "Thank You" to all.

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I Love You

12.03.2008

... were the last words my Mom ever spoke to me.




Mom
Jan 10, 1947 - Dec 2, 2008

I love you too Mom.

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