Remembering Mom

Mother's Day for me will consist of visiting the cemetery. I haven't been in a while and feel as though I've been neglecting my parents. I don't get upset or cry on Mother's Day, my Mom and I weren't the close pair that I am with my own daughter. Although I did call her almost daily to vent and she was a good one to vent to. She never had an opinion, she would just respond "that's interesting", whether it was trivial or tragedy, she was a good listener.

Years before she died, my parents would snow-bird to Englewood, Florida. With each visit they would leave earlier in the fall and come back later in the spring. I wasn't able to call or drop in as often, so we seemed to drift apart before she passed on. When they were in town I would forget they were so close. I became accustomed to them not being here.

When they returned from Englewood for the last time and Dad had a heart attack unloading the motor home, ending up in the hospital having a triple-bypass, Mom ended up in a nursing home. My Dad had kept her decline a secret and when she called and asked if I would come over to spend the night because she didn't want to be alone, I learned, she "couldn't" be left alone. I stayed a week with her until I found a decent nursing home. (Nursing home shopping is a terrible task). From that day on, I visited her every day and prepared her for bed every night.

Dad's recovery was slow, ending up in intensive care twice. They released him to the same nursing home where he shared a room with Mom. I remember coming down the hall to visit and could hear them bickering as was their custom. After his release, Dad wouldn't visit with the same regularity, I was still up there nightly and on the weekends, sometimes twice a day. I think the only time I missed putting her to bed was when I took a weekend to go to Chicago for a NASCAR race and I felt like the parent, worrying and calling often to check on her.

Mom and I became closer during her time in the nursing home. Although she wasn't all there upstairs, she was more open and inquisitive; almost child like. It seems when she was in Florida the last time, she ended up in the hospital on Thanksgiving. Mom had Emphysema, congestive heart failure and COPD. While in the hospital they cranked up her oxygen to 6 liters and no one explained to her or my Dad that it shouldn't be that high for very long and it poisoned her. It was always a constant battle there after, with the nurses and CNAs, to keep her oxygen turned down.

We spent evenings talking about death (she was anxious to go) and the strange things that she would see. Often she would see butterflies and comment on how beautiful they were. Butterflies became an icon and a symbol of her, we hung them everywhere in her room. Dead relatives would visit, having a party in her room and she would say "next time they come, I'm going with them". She had always been an anxiety ridden person but her condition exacerbated it and I was sometimes called upon by nursing home staff to come calm her down. My Dad wouldn't listen to her ramblings, he didn't believe in such things.

I enjoyed spending time with her there, I would giver her manicures, paint her nails, brush her hair; dote on her. We would sometimes reserve the conference room and have my family up for a Chinese dinner, her favorite. Her roommate was usually included in our gatherings. I got to know many of the other residents, some of which I had never seen a visitor come.

January 30th was our last Chinese Dinner in the conference room. At the end of the meal, my Moms favorite ritual was opening the fortune cookie. This night her fortune read "You are about to depart on a long awaited journey". My mom was beside herself with excitement. "Does this mean what I think it means?" She asked. My Dad ignored the question, thinking it to be non-sense or "hog wash" (his favorite term). All I could say was "I don't know".

Early the next morning Mom ended up having to go to the emergency room, she was bleeding internally. The Doctor said they could do surgery but it would be very strenuous on her body. My Mom, for the first time in a very long time was calm and insisted there would be no surgery, she wanted to go back to the nursing home.

I pulled the Dr. out into the hallway and questioned him as to how much time she would have if she didn't have surgery. "At the most, three days" he estimated and Mom went back to the nursing home. After settling her in, I returned home. Shortly after, I received a call from one of the nurses, Mom was having a panic attack.

After spending some time with her I realized that "this was 'it'". I asked her who she would like with her; she wanted everyone there. I called my family, my daughter and son, husband and Father. Once she learned Dad was on the way she relaxed and calmly fell asleep. When the last person arrived in her room, Mom went peacefully.

On January 30th, every year, we celebrate Mom's life and "The last supper" by gathering at a Chinese restaurant. Dad's no longer here either and it is my responsibility to carry on the tradition. However with my life having been in personal turmoil for a while, I forgot a couple times but as fate would have it, my son and I found ourselves having Chinese one day and realized it was January 30th. At another gathering we ran into my cousin and her partner sharing dinner at my Mom's favorite restaurant (I don't believe in coincidence).

I locked myself in my room, determined to write a poem for her funeral (neither of my parents were aware of my poetry passion) and the following is the result and also the poem that brought me out of the closet.

Happy Mother's Day Mom and Thank you,

Upon Wings

My image a canvas
painted by time,
weary and tired
I've left it behind.

Upon wings of a butterfly
my essence now rides,
dancing on breezes
as they pass by.

You'll see me sometimes
on warm summer days
Among Poppies and Asters
You can watch me play.

Refrain from your sorrow,
you mustn't weep
for sweet nectar
I now shall eat.

Let us not say goodbye,
not bid thee farewell,
I'll be in the garden
just resting a spell.

(unfortunately I was unable to locate a photo of Mom on disc, so fittingly substituted photos I've taken of Butterflies)

Peace
Liz