I Can't believe that it has been a year since my Mother passed away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I still have a message that she had left a few weeks before she died on my phone that I listen to every so often. It makes me smile to hear her voice and listen to her rambling message. I can't tell you how many times I have thought to pick up the phone to call her, Mother's day, her birthday...but she isn't on the other end of the phone...only that message is there.
I talk to her often, not as much as in the beginning, but enough to fill the gap. I feel she is listening. My father joined her six months ago, God has it been that long ago already? It's weird how time and life go on for the living after it has stopped for the dead. I miss them!
There have been times where I will see something that reminds me of them, a walker parked outside a building, a sweater, a favorite candy. I like to think of those as little messages to me from them, letting me know they are not that far away. I dread to think what it will be like to say that they have been gone 10 years, or 20. I know I will miss them still then. It will seem like an eternity since we shared a laugh or a hug, yet I know too it will seem like only yesterday.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Timing is everything
During the last five months of my Father's life, he faced being alone for the first time ever in his adult life. His wife of 57 years, my Mother, passed away unexpectedly. She was supposed outlive him, that's what we all thought. She was nine years his junior after all, and he had many more health issues. But his zeal for life and everything new to taste and experience is what kept him going for those eighty six years. I have never met anyone and probably never will meet anyone again who enjoyed life as much as my Father. He enjoyed the fact that he was alive. Perhaps he was afraid of death, like so many of us are. Perhaps not actually the thought of dying, but the thought of no longer living.
During those final months, my father experienced so many different emotions, extreme sadness, loss and loneliness. He would have good days and he would have bad days. The good days would allow his excitement to shine through, eating fajitas for the first time (although he called them " fajoolie"s ). Meeting new friends at the nursing care facility and sharing stories about his life and children. But on the days when he didn't feel good, a dark cloud would rest upon his head and he would shed tears for the loss of his soul mate, his wife, our mother.
It was during these dark moments when he would pick up the phone and call one of his four children, just to say hello, to tell us how much he missed our mom, to hear our voice...to be less alone. He would always say "I just called to tell you that I Love You, very much".
It was after these calls that a familiar song by Stevie Wonder would flow through my head, "I just called to say I love you". I would hum it during the day, not even realizing why it had popped into my head.
As the months after our Mother's death approached Christmas, it also approached my parent's 58th Wedding anniversary. A day they had never spent apart, until it looked , like this year. But as that day grew ever closer his health deteriorated and we were summoned by Hospice to gather and say our good byes to the Pillar of our family, Our Father.
As the alertness of the first few days, gave way to him drifting farther and farther from this world and into the next, I had to say my goodbyes because we knew the inevitable was coming, but we didn't know when. I had made the journey with my youngest son, and we spent nearly a week at his side, and it was a time now where although he was still with us, he wasn't able to communicate with us , it was time that we go home.
I leaned in to hug my Father one last time...knowing that THIS WAS the absolute LAST time I would see my Father in this earthly body, the last time I could hug him, the last time.....
Overcome by emotion I just whispered that I loved him so very much and that he was a great Father, thanked him and told him he would be OK. His mouth moved , his eyes became rapid, he was trying to say something, but he couldn't. I told him it was OK, I KNEW he loved me, he told me every time we spoke.
After saying farewell to my sister and her son who could spend another day vigil at his bedside, I made my way to the car and had a complete breakdown. Crying with Heaving thrusts that made my fifteen year old son very uncomfortable. He looked at me and then looked away not knowing how to handle what was going on. We sat warming the car, me hysterically in tears , HIM fidgeting....he turned on the radio.
At that moment a song played.......the song was Stevie Wonder and the words at that exact time "I just called to say I love you".
My son and I made eye contact.....he said "It's a sign". And it was! And suddenly I was a peace. I knew that my Father was making his way to the other side. I knew that he couldn't tell me what he wanted to say, but the message was sent just the same.
He passed away the next afternoon, my brother at his side, minutes after my brother gave his permission to go and be with our mother. Just days before their anniversary. They would indeed spend this one together like the past fifty seven.
Timing is indeed EVERYTHING!
During those final months, my father experienced so many different emotions, extreme sadness, loss and loneliness. He would have good days and he would have bad days. The good days would allow his excitement to shine through, eating fajitas for the first time (although he called them " fajoolie"s ). Meeting new friends at the nursing care facility and sharing stories about his life and children. But on the days when he didn't feel good, a dark cloud would rest upon his head and he would shed tears for the loss of his soul mate, his wife, our mother.
It was during these dark moments when he would pick up the phone and call one of his four children, just to say hello, to tell us how much he missed our mom, to hear our voice...to be less alone. He would always say "I just called to tell you that I Love You, very much".
It was after these calls that a familiar song by Stevie Wonder would flow through my head, "I just called to say I love you". I would hum it during the day, not even realizing why it had popped into my head.
As the months after our Mother's death approached Christmas, it also approached my parent's 58th Wedding anniversary. A day they had never spent apart, until it looked , like this year. But as that day grew ever closer his health deteriorated and we were summoned by Hospice to gather and say our good byes to the Pillar of our family, Our Father.
As the alertness of the first few days, gave way to him drifting farther and farther from this world and into the next, I had to say my goodbyes because we knew the inevitable was coming, but we didn't know when. I had made the journey with my youngest son, and we spent nearly a week at his side, and it was a time now where although he was still with us, he wasn't able to communicate with us , it was time that we go home.
I leaned in to hug my Father one last time...knowing that THIS WAS the absolute LAST time I would see my Father in this earthly body, the last time I could hug him, the last time.....
Overcome by emotion I just whispered that I loved him so very much and that he was a great Father, thanked him and told him he would be OK. His mouth moved , his eyes became rapid, he was trying to say something, but he couldn't. I told him it was OK, I KNEW he loved me, he told me every time we spoke.
After saying farewell to my sister and her son who could spend another day vigil at his bedside, I made my way to the car and had a complete breakdown. Crying with Heaving thrusts that made my fifteen year old son very uncomfortable. He looked at me and then looked away not knowing how to handle what was going on. We sat warming the car, me hysterically in tears , HIM fidgeting....he turned on the radio.
At that moment a song played.......the song was Stevie Wonder and the words at that exact time "I just called to say I love you".
My son and I made eye contact.....he said "It's a sign". And it was! And suddenly I was a peace. I knew that my Father was making his way to the other side. I knew that he couldn't tell me what he wanted to say, but the message was sent just the same.
He passed away the next afternoon, my brother at his side, minutes after my brother gave his permission to go and be with our mother. Just days before their anniversary. They would indeed spend this one together like the past fifty seven.
Timing is indeed EVERYTHING!
What happens when you die?
I watched as my father lay upon his death bed. He was 86, and knew full well that his time alive in his body was nearing the end. His biggest fear was that he didn't have enough faith to get him into Heaven.
A clergy from Hospice comforted him, assured him that he had enough Faith. And I watched as his faith comforted him as he prepared to embark on his journey. He confided to me in one of his rare moments of alertness, that he was going to die soon. I didn't know what to say to him, but I hugged him and told him it was OK, he would see Mom again and be together with her again.
I sat for hours thinking that every struggled breath was going to be his last. Contemplated what I would do if he left his body while I was there. Contemplated where he was going.
I believe that there is life after death. I believe there is a GOD. I am just not sure that when we die we go live in the sky and dance in the clouds. There is something, but exactly what remains to be seen. At times the idea of what happens to us when we leave the body seems as clear as a pane of glass, yet other times it is not so clear.
My Father outlived my Mother by only 5 months. The circumstances surrounding her death were much more harsh, because they came without warning. We were relocating them from Washington state where they had migrated nearly 20 years before, back to Wisconsin where they were originally from, where two of the four siblings still resided. We were relocating them to a nursing facility because their health was deteriorating and they needed full time healthcare.
My mother died the first night back in Wisconsin, in a Hotel room where she awaited a morning doctor visit that was needed to admit her to the nursing home because she came from out of state. She told my Father on the flight the day before that she thought she was going to die. She didn't want to go to the nursing home, she was doing it for him...she was doing it to move back to family because she knew that eventually they would be alone if they didn't make the move now while they were able.
She wasn't well in the days preceding her death, I know that now...I didn't see it then, even though the signs were there. My sister didn't see it either. I suggested a check up, but she refused to be checked by a doctor. After her sudden death, those thoughts of guilt crept in, if only we would have taken her to the doctor.... We did the best we could with the information we had at the time. She died and we were left wondering if there was something more we could have done. But our Mother...that was her way...well that is a story for another day.
For five months after her death, I felt that she was alone, she died alone , even though there were others in the room with her, my Father, my sister...they didn't know she was dying...so she was alone in her death. The guilt, the things that we could have, should have done....
But with our Father, we were given more time... a week. We knew the end was near, there was time to say goodbye and siblings all took the time to say it. When he passed, it wasn't as shocking as what had happened to Mom...it wasn't as dark, there was no guilt, just sadness that they were both gone. The thought of them together made everything feel ....sweet in a way... like Mom was now OK.
I am not sure where their souls are exactly. I believe that they are in Heaven, where ever that is. I believe they are together, I believe they see what we are doing...there have been little signs. I have faith that I will someday see them again. And I pray that my faith is enough!
A clergy from Hospice comforted him, assured him that he had enough Faith. And I watched as his faith comforted him as he prepared to embark on his journey. He confided to me in one of his rare moments of alertness, that he was going to die soon. I didn't know what to say to him, but I hugged him and told him it was OK, he would see Mom again and be together with her again.
I sat for hours thinking that every struggled breath was going to be his last. Contemplated what I would do if he left his body while I was there. Contemplated where he was going.
I believe that there is life after death. I believe there is a GOD. I am just not sure that when we die we go live in the sky and dance in the clouds. There is something, but exactly what remains to be seen. At times the idea of what happens to us when we leave the body seems as clear as a pane of glass, yet other times it is not so clear.
My Father outlived my Mother by only 5 months. The circumstances surrounding her death were much more harsh, because they came without warning. We were relocating them from Washington state where they had migrated nearly 20 years before, back to Wisconsin where they were originally from, where two of the four siblings still resided. We were relocating them to a nursing facility because their health was deteriorating and they needed full time healthcare.
My mother died the first night back in Wisconsin, in a Hotel room where she awaited a morning doctor visit that was needed to admit her to the nursing home because she came from out of state. She told my Father on the flight the day before that she thought she was going to die. She didn't want to go to the nursing home, she was doing it for him...she was doing it to move back to family because she knew that eventually they would be alone if they didn't make the move now while they were able.
She wasn't well in the days preceding her death, I know that now...I didn't see it then, even though the signs were there. My sister didn't see it either. I suggested a check up, but she refused to be checked by a doctor. After her sudden death, those thoughts of guilt crept in, if only we would have taken her to the doctor.... We did the best we could with the information we had at the time. She died and we were left wondering if there was something more we could have done. But our Mother...that was her way...well that is a story for another day.
For five months after her death, I felt that she was alone, she died alone , even though there were others in the room with her, my Father, my sister...they didn't know she was dying...so she was alone in her death. The guilt, the things that we could have, should have done....
But with our Father, we were given more time... a week. We knew the end was near, there was time to say goodbye and siblings all took the time to say it. When he passed, it wasn't as shocking as what had happened to Mom...it wasn't as dark, there was no guilt, just sadness that they were both gone. The thought of them together made everything feel ....sweet in a way... like Mom was now OK.
I am not sure where their souls are exactly. I believe that they are in Heaven, where ever that is. I believe they are together, I believe they see what we are doing...there have been little signs. I have faith that I will someday see them again. And I pray that my faith is enough!
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