In less than an hour 2015 will roll into 2016. I'll start writing a new date but other than that, any other changes to the year will come mostly as a surprise. I've made resolutions hundreds of times, sometimes to do something and sometimes to not do something. I remember those more. The "dos" have been similar year after year: eat better, read my scriptures more often, exercise more, etc. The "don'ts" that were the most memorable were: don't shop at Wal-Mart (that resolution lasted four years before I entered a Wal-Mart again) and don't buy any new clothes. I think that was 2006. I bought socks and underwear during the year but I didn't buy new clothes. I got a few new things as birthday presents but it really wasn't that hard to make it a year without shopping for clothes. I could do it again but I don't want to. And I'm not really even a shopper; I'm a pretty lousy consumer.
This year I have a new don't: don't swear. I'm going to see if I can consciously clean up my language. I don't even swear all that often nor do I use the really foulest of words. But I do swear occasionally and I'm going to try to stop this year. I just shouldn't have to use a swear word in any instance and I think I'll be a better person for it.
This has been a good year. I've gotten close to my three grand babies - they are my favorites. I've been able to write and edit a bit, keeping my talents honed. My health is mostly good, my marriage is happy, I have a wonderful church calling and a nice home. Our children are good friends with us and we love to be together. Riley's job is stable and he still enjoys it.
We visited a new continent this year - Africa. It was an amazing adventure - one we will never forget. We saw new land, animals and people. We dipped our toes in both the Indian and Atlantic oceans. We rode elephants and got up close and personal with lions, zebras and rhinos. We hiked in beautiful forests and saw stunning African sunsets. It was a dream come true.
This was a hard year too. My mom's health has drastically declined. So much so that I wonder how she is still here. She probably weighs no more than 75 pounds, if that. She doesn't talk much, sleeping about 99 percent of the time. She eats maybe 4-5 bites of food a day. Her conversations are mostly, "I love you," something I love to hear but I'd sure like her to be able to back it up with hugs and laughter, like the mom I used to know.
We had to take apart her house this year. There were difficult times with siblings that hurt my heart. I tried to be as gentle as possible with her things, finding new homes for items rather than just throwing them out. It was long, tedious, challenging, tear-inducing and therapeutic all at once. I cried many tears alone and with family members in the house I grew up in. I walk through empty rooms now and close my eyes, picturing what was once there, the familiarity I loved for so many years. A "for sale" sign is planted in the front yard. People are going online to take "virtual tours" of the bare rooms where now only memories reside. I'm ready to sell it. That chapter is closing and with that closing, a huge burden is being lifted. Since the last day I hauled things off I have slept better, through the night. I don't wake up at 3 a.m. with a long to-do list in my head. It's nice. People talk about things being bittersweet. This is just that - bitter because it has been a place for my heart for 54 years and now I have to bid it goodbye; sweet for the same reason because I have decades of packed memories to sustain me. And really, the house isn't a home without my mom there and she will never return so for me, letting it go is ok, I've made peace with the fact that things won't be as they once were. She is moving on so we need to move on too.
I don't know what 2016 will bring. At the beginning of 2015 I thought I knew my mom was going to die during the year, that the death year on her headstone would be 2015. Not so. It will be 2016. Of that I am sure. There is no way her tiny, frail, quiet body will hang on for a year. So the big surprise will be when - what month; what day? We will bury my mom's body in 2016 but her love, laughter, happiness and spirit will live on eternally, of that I am sure as well.
What else will come in 2016? There are definitely surprises in store - I just hope they are all good ones. I know we grow when we face and overcome adversity but I'd love to steer clear of any for a while. I think I've encountered enough these past eight years with my mom and the decline of her health. My hope is for health and happiness for me, Riley and our family. We are comfortable financially - we paid off our mortgage in 2015 - a banner event! We feel the discomforts of aging and we aren't thrilled with them. But we will try to stay healthy and mobile for many years.
I will also try to do those things I always try to do better at - eat better, exercise more, read my scriptures ... and I will set other goals. I just need to figure out what they will be.
Thursday, December 31, 2015
Thursday, November 26, 2015
The Mother of All Yard Sales (Part 2)
After the sale there was still SO MUCH STUFFFFFFF! It truly is amazing how much stuff filled that house. Jan and I decided to donate things to places where it would help others the most. It's November now and since the sale nine weeks ago I have taken many truck loads away from mom's house. Many loads went to Savers. Truckloads went to the ReStore - a place that recycles things like tools, nails, sinks, wood, etc. I bagged up the rest of mom's clothing and took 12 huge black garbage bags of beautiful clothing to the United Way for the Women and Children's Justice Center to help women and children of domestic abuse. I counted the items to help on mom's taxes - there were more than 1,000 clothing items!! And that was after the sale and after we took what we wanted of mom's things. Wow!
Jan and I also met and went through some treasures – one night we had dinner and looked at all the jewelry, taking items for ourselves and our children. One night we went through the hope chest and mom’s dresser. We have a box of sewing items to go through still.
Jan also had the idea for one last sleepover at mom's - a grand hurrah! She and Steph and Steph's kids Sabryna, Mychigan, Daisy, Rvyer, Sawyer and Wyllow and I had a backyard hotdog roast and celebrated Daisy's birthday. We had a fire in the fireplace and used the patio furniture one last time. McKade and Amanda joined us for hotdogs later. The kids ran around the yard until after dark. We played nertz at the round game table dad built. It was a wild, happy, crazy game! The little kids climbed into the linen closet upstairs. Sabryna read quietly on the couch. We slept upstairs. I slept in my old bedroom. I hadn't slept there since the night before I married Riley - that was on June 11, 1980. I slept on the floor and thought of memories made in that room. It made my heart happy. Jan and Steph slept in Jan's four-poster bed in her old room. Some kids slept in Brett and Paul's (and subsequently Kelly's and then the caretaker's) room; some slept in mom and dad's red-flocked wallpaper room. We had a big breakfast together then, with Riley's help, moved big furniture to the shop for temporary storage.
Paul Wheeler arranged for a 30-cubic yard dumpster to be placed on the property and we spent days filling it with items that no longer had use. Paul Ashton came with his truck and trailer and took two loads of wood back up to the mill shed. Several men came and took loads of wood - one was a shop teacher near Park City and he was thrilled to get free wood for his classes. Paul Ashton also hauled a trailer load of metal away to recycle. He has been a wonderful helper this past month. Brett came for a week and helped clear buildings of items. Lisa Wheeler Astling took hundreds of wooden craft items, finished many and gave them to the Festival of Trees. The proceeds will go to Primary Children's Hospital. We set items out at the curb with a FREE sign and almost every item was taken. I love the idea that mom and dad are still giving, still helping others, still sharing. They are useful things, these items, but we all have our own piles of things at our houses so sharing the excess has been wonderful!
Kathy Wheeler and her daughters Loni and Lisa came to clean the house. They cleaned every room and sorted photos and paperwork into boxes for each Wheeler kid (Brett, Paul, Jan, Kelly, Kaye). Brett, Paul, Jan and I spent hours looking through old photos, sorting them into decades and getting them ready for Paul to scan so we can each have copies. My friend Holly came over and helped rake leaves one day. Even though no one lives there, it still needs care. We let Dell and Steph take big items, like the stove and a bed, to their home.
Many things of mom's and dad's have found new homes with family and friends and for that I am grateful. I'm also grateful mom gave me some things throughout the years she knew I would love having like her pickle crock, her potato masher and her nice butter dish. I'll use those last two today since it is Thanksgiving, and I will think of her.
It has been a learning process for me, dismantling my childhood home and all that filled it. One thing I've learned is that I will let our material things go well before my children have to make the effort to do so. (I've already been purging our own house.) While it's been fun at times to look at nostalgic things, it's also been physically and mentally exhausting to have to deal with so much stuff. Another thing I've learned is that photos need to be labeled. We have hundreds of photos we can't identify.
The house is practically empty, ready to be listed for sale. I close my eyes and think of each room as it was a year ago - full of furniture and things familiar to my eyes, memory and heart. I cry, as I am now, that it's all gone. But I know we did the right thing. We were gentle and careful and mindful of mom's things. We did it together: siblings, children, friends. We kept good attitudes, had fun, laughed, remembered. It has been a wonderful home, a key gathering place for many memory-making events, a home to return to. The last thing I learned (or rather, re-learned) is that material things don't last forever - they aren't meant to. But emotional, spiritual things are meant to last and because of a loving Heavenly Father, they will.
The Mother of All Yard Sales (Part 1)
We knew it was coming, cleaning out our mother's house. It was a "someday" thing my mom would laugh about. She said, "oh, you'll have so much fun someday," knowing how large the job would be. I don't think SHE even knew how large the job would be.
My sister had the idea to have a yard sale, an "estate" sale. I've organized and had many through the years and knew this would take weeks to pull off. So, starting weeks ahead of a chosen date for the sale, I started pulling everything out of cupboards and closets. Just the amount of glass items was staggering but the number of sweatshirts, sweaters, coats and shirts was astonishing. Each nook and cranny, room, closet, cupboard, basement and shelf was filled to over brimming with items.
Two women from Salt Lake vintage stores came and bought many vintage clothing pieces before the sale. I was glad these cool clothing pieces would have new homes with lots of different people!
We had planned to have the estate sale at the end of August but soon realized we would not be ready. We moved it to the first weekend in September, Labor Day weekend. We knew we would lose some people to vacations that weekend but we needed to do it. We chose to have a two-day sale on Friday and Saturday. It took many hours and many days leading up to that Friday to get things ready. I spent the day Thursday at mom's getting tables set up. We borrowed tables from Karla Wheeler and SueMarie Lamaker, used about five from mom's house, used several Amy had in the barn and I took my huge tables and all my card tables. I think we had about 16 tables set up. I put tablecloths on most of them to make them look nice. We didn't want people to have to look at anything on the ground. I borrowed ladders and pipes from Paris Ruffell next door to set up long clothing racks. We also used mom's and Amy's clothing racks and an armoire. They were jam packed with clothing.
The whole front lawn was used and it was set up like a boutique with similar items grouped together in rows of tables. There was a table of flamingo items, one of all sunflower items, one with Americana - red, white and blue things, one with 2002 Olympic things, one with Coco-Cola paraphernalia. One held all kitchen items - plastic things, decor, utensils, pans and more. One table had all clear glass items. Another had all vintage colored glass. Several huge tables held more than 300 sweatshirts (I quit counting at 300). The racks held shirts, sweaters, jackets, coats, skirts, pants, etc. We used a long horizontal ladder with boards on it to display blankets, sheets, pillows, stuffed animals and linens. One table had holiday items - Halloween, Valentines, Easter and Thanksgiving. We had decided not to put any Christmas things out because we didn't have time to go through all of them. There were stacks of record albums on the front porch - more than 100. We set up the bookshelf from the TV room to hold books.
We pulled furniture out to sell - mom's couch and matching chair, her twin bed, the stereo, end tables, etc.
I had advertised the sale on KSL and Facebook and we put Jan's truck down on main with a poster on it. I got dollar bills and quarters from the bank for change. I took food for us while we stayed since we were going to have to spend the days and nights there. Riley has been wonderful and supportive throughout our marriage of me having to spend many nights at mom's house and this was no different - he stayed alone in Provo while we spent that time in Springville but also came and helped when we needed it.
Jan and I slept under the stars the first night. I slept on the twin bed and Jan slept on the couch. We went to bed late - 2 a.m. and talked for a while, laughing and reveling in what we were about to do. But we were so tired. I awoke at 5:20 a.m. and got up to get going for the day. She soon followed. We had put in our ads "no early birds" but people came at 7 a.m. as we were still putting things out. We were selling items before 8 a.m., the real start time. Hundreds of people came! We had about a 5-minute respite during the day and people continued to come even after dark. We had floodlights set up for us to work (not for people to look) but people came and we sold things anyway. We made $1,400 that day! We were astounded! We had sold the furniture and many other items at prices that were sometimes a little higher than you'd see at a yard sale. But since the volume of stuff was still so high, we lowered prices on Saturday. We spent hours Friday evening and into the wee hours of the morning finding more stuff to put out. We only slept a few hours than night too, still under the stars. We made $600 more on Saturday. Amy and Todd also made about $600 on things they sold.
Amy and Wolf were there both days. Amy brought us breakfast each morning. Andrea came on Saturday to help. A friend, Cynthia Hinkson, brought us many snacks and drinks.
We had fun. Many old friends of mom's and ours came by. We reminisced about the house and the time spent there. We gave armloads of clothing to friends, insisting mom would not charge them for her things. Tears were shed and hugs given. A picture of our mom was taped up out front for all to see, a photo from her years in the JayCees that a neighbor brought by. Some friends who came by: Kirk Roberts, JoEll and Paula Swenson, AnnaDale, Dawn and Rusty Wheeler, Marty Twelves, Pat Porter, SueMarie, Paris and Karla (all neighbors), Robert Carter and his wife, LeeAnn Gabbitas, Cynthia Hinkson, Chris Kelly and his family (the plumber who has worked on mom's house and yard), Jeff Carter, Cyle Cope, Adam and Holly Beck (who lived in our ward but bought the house across the street from mom's. Adam helped move big items outside), Callie and Brigham McKay, Alison and Penny Parker, Desi Parker and Gena Roe (who helped me load things to take to DI at the end of the sale). Good, good friends. I've probably forgotten to write some down. Paul and Kathy and their family came too - they had just returned from Africa. All the great grandkids got to pick what they wanted. The grandsons and granddaughters did too - all gifts from grandma.
At the end of the day on Saturday we were completely exhausted but knew we had to continue the sale the following weekend. There was just too much stuff. So we did it all again. We worked all afternoon on Friday to set it up again. Jan and I slept on the dining room floor that Friday night. It was getting chilly outside. We talked and laughed as we laid there and I pointed out we had probably slept in every room in the house except the kitchen and the laundry room and two bathrooms. I know I've slept in my old room, my sister's room, my brother's room (caretaker's room), my mom and dad's old room upstairs, the TV room/mom's room (the past five years), the pink bathroom (laying on the floor by the heater vent when I was sick), the living room (sleeping in front of the fireplace after coming home from skiing) and now, the dining room where the dining table used to be. It was good to be with my sister. We've gotten closer through all of this ordeal.
Before the sale I moved many 50 cent and dollar marked items to the front sidewalk and put a big FREE sign there. One man asked if there was a limit on what he could take. We told him he could take what he wanted. We put clothes and shoes there too. It was practically all gone at the end of the day.
We made another $500 that Saturday, practically giving things away for $1 or free. All told, we made $2,500 to put into mom's account. This estate sale was bittersweet. It was hard to see all of mom's things laid out on tables with sale tags on them rather than in the house where they were so familiar to us. It was sad to let some things go, like the stereo that we played records on as teenagers, but a young man was thrilled to buy it and about 50 albums. It was the right thing to do. Mom's life is coming to an end. She has what she needs in material things and care at the care center. More importantly, she is loved. You don't need shirts and colored glass to help you survive, endure and enjoy this earth life - you need love. And that is never ending.
My sister had the idea to have a yard sale, an "estate" sale. I've organized and had many through the years and knew this would take weeks to pull off. So, starting weeks ahead of a chosen date for the sale, I started pulling everything out of cupboards and closets. Just the amount of glass items was staggering but the number of sweatshirts, sweaters, coats and shirts was astonishing. Each nook and cranny, room, closet, cupboard, basement and shelf was filled to over brimming with items.
Two women from Salt Lake vintage stores came and bought many vintage clothing pieces before the sale. I was glad these cool clothing pieces would have new homes with lots of different people!
We had planned to have the estate sale at the end of August but soon realized we would not be ready. We moved it to the first weekend in September, Labor Day weekend. We knew we would lose some people to vacations that weekend but we needed to do it. We chose to have a two-day sale on Friday and Saturday. It took many hours and many days leading up to that Friday to get things ready. I spent the day Thursday at mom's getting tables set up. We borrowed tables from Karla Wheeler and SueMarie Lamaker, used about five from mom's house, used several Amy had in the barn and I took my huge tables and all my card tables. I think we had about 16 tables set up. I put tablecloths on most of them to make them look nice. We didn't want people to have to look at anything on the ground. I borrowed ladders and pipes from Paris Ruffell next door to set up long clothing racks. We also used mom's and Amy's clothing racks and an armoire. They were jam packed with clothing.
The whole front lawn was used and it was set up like a boutique with similar items grouped together in rows of tables. There was a table of flamingo items, one of all sunflower items, one with Americana - red, white and blue things, one with 2002 Olympic things, one with Coco-Cola paraphernalia. One held all kitchen items - plastic things, decor, utensils, pans and more. One table had all clear glass items. Another had all vintage colored glass. Several huge tables held more than 300 sweatshirts (I quit counting at 300). The racks held shirts, sweaters, jackets, coats, skirts, pants, etc. We used a long horizontal ladder with boards on it to display blankets, sheets, pillows, stuffed animals and linens. One table had holiday items - Halloween, Valentines, Easter and Thanksgiving. We had decided not to put any Christmas things out because we didn't have time to go through all of them. There were stacks of record albums on the front porch - more than 100. We set up the bookshelf from the TV room to hold books.
We pulled furniture out to sell - mom's couch and matching chair, her twin bed, the stereo, end tables, etc.
I had advertised the sale on KSL and Facebook and we put Jan's truck down on main with a poster on it. I got dollar bills and quarters from the bank for change. I took food for us while we stayed since we were going to have to spend the days and nights there. Riley has been wonderful and supportive throughout our marriage of me having to spend many nights at mom's house and this was no different - he stayed alone in Provo while we spent that time in Springville but also came and helped when we needed it.
Jan and I slept under the stars the first night. I slept on the twin bed and Jan slept on the couch. We went to bed late - 2 a.m. and talked for a while, laughing and reveling in what we were about to do. But we were so tired. I awoke at 5:20 a.m. and got up to get going for the day. She soon followed. We had put in our ads "no early birds" but people came at 7 a.m. as we were still putting things out. We were selling items before 8 a.m., the real start time. Hundreds of people came! We had about a 5-minute respite during the day and people continued to come even after dark. We had floodlights set up for us to work (not for people to look) but people came and we sold things anyway. We made $1,400 that day! We were astounded! We had sold the furniture and many other items at prices that were sometimes a little higher than you'd see at a yard sale. But since the volume of stuff was still so high, we lowered prices on Saturday. We spent hours Friday evening and into the wee hours of the morning finding more stuff to put out. We only slept a few hours than night too, still under the stars. We made $600 more on Saturday. Amy and Todd also made about $600 on things they sold.
Amy and Wolf were there both days. Amy brought us breakfast each morning. Andrea came on Saturday to help. A friend, Cynthia Hinkson, brought us many snacks and drinks.
We had fun. Many old friends of mom's and ours came by. We reminisced about the house and the time spent there. We gave armloads of clothing to friends, insisting mom would not charge them for her things. Tears were shed and hugs given. A picture of our mom was taped up out front for all to see, a photo from her years in the JayCees that a neighbor brought by. Some friends who came by: Kirk Roberts, JoEll and Paula Swenson, AnnaDale, Dawn and Rusty Wheeler, Marty Twelves, Pat Porter, SueMarie, Paris and Karla (all neighbors), Robert Carter and his wife, LeeAnn Gabbitas, Cynthia Hinkson, Chris Kelly and his family (the plumber who has worked on mom's house and yard), Jeff Carter, Cyle Cope, Adam and Holly Beck (who lived in our ward but bought the house across the street from mom's. Adam helped move big items outside), Callie and Brigham McKay, Alison and Penny Parker, Desi Parker and Gena Roe (who helped me load things to take to DI at the end of the sale). Good, good friends. I've probably forgotten to write some down. Paul and Kathy and their family came too - they had just returned from Africa. All the great grandkids got to pick what they wanted. The grandsons and granddaughters did too - all gifts from grandma.
At the end of the day on Saturday we were completely exhausted but knew we had to continue the sale the following weekend. There was just too much stuff. So we did it all again. We worked all afternoon on Friday to set it up again. Jan and I slept on the dining room floor that Friday night. It was getting chilly outside. We talked and laughed as we laid there and I pointed out we had probably slept in every room in the house except the kitchen and the laundry room and two bathrooms. I know I've slept in my old room, my sister's room, my brother's room (caretaker's room), my mom and dad's old room upstairs, the TV room/mom's room (the past five years), the pink bathroom (laying on the floor by the heater vent when I was sick), the living room (sleeping in front of the fireplace after coming home from skiing) and now, the dining room where the dining table used to be. It was good to be with my sister. We've gotten closer through all of this ordeal.
Before the sale I moved many 50 cent and dollar marked items to the front sidewalk and put a big FREE sign there. One man asked if there was a limit on what he could take. We told him he could take what he wanted. We put clothes and shoes there too. It was practically all gone at the end of the day.
We made another $500 that Saturday, practically giving things away for $1 or free. All told, we made $2,500 to put into mom's account. This estate sale was bittersweet. It was hard to see all of mom's things laid out on tables with sale tags on them rather than in the house where they were so familiar to us. It was sad to let some things go, like the stereo that we played records on as teenagers, but a young man was thrilled to buy it and about 50 albums. It was the right thing to do. Mom's life is coming to an end. She has what she needs in material things and care at the care center. More importantly, she is loved. You don't need shirts and colored glass to help you survive, endure and enjoy this earth life - you need love. And that is never ending.
Sunday, September 27, 2015
My Mother's Last Days - Sept. 27, 2015
It's surprising my mother is still here on earth. It seems as though she should have passed weeks ago, her body is tiny. She barely eats. Her clarity of mind only frequents us on occasion. Yet she persists. I wonder if there is a goal she subconsciously has, like living until Oct. 1 - her wedding day. Or knowing her children are all right with each other. Or is it just a battle she'd rather not wager - her spirit is ready to go but her body isn't. Death is a curious thing. It isn't convenient but has to be entertained when it arrives.
Life is about change. We tumble through childhood, rush adulthood way too soon as teens, then spend the rest of our lives making our way as spiritual beings having a human existence. Sometimes bodies leave earth in nearly perfect states - like my niece Stacie and my friend Dave Henson. Other times bodies are crippled and broken or have worn out like the aged. All involve change at all seasons of life. We grow from tiny babies to adults. We gain and lose weight, hair and sanity. We reach peaks of human ability then start the slow decline from those peaks. Change is constant and good if we are changing for the better.
We are moving through this life to get to the next. Some get there faster than others. Some languish, like my mom, but eventually get there. What is on the other side of the veil? Is there sadness in heaven? Do we look back at earth and mourn the loss of that period of time in our eternal journey? Or are we glad it's over and we see with new spiritual eyes, the glory that lies ahead? The joy ahead must be staggering.
Are we busy helping those still on earth and if so, how are we helping them? Do we whisper in their ears or appear in their dreams to urge them to do all that is required for good? Who is whispering in my mom's ears? She has mentioned my dad and her parents, her brother and her friend Paula in the past few months. Are they taking a break from heavenly duties to usher my mom through this difficult time? They must know the day of her departure. They must know the reasons she is still here.
I seek comfort from a loving Heavenly Father. I pray for patience and to be prepared when the day comes my mother will take her final breath. I've said goodbyes. I've held her and sobbed out my love to her. I want better for her than what she has right now - she deserves to be free from this earthly body, to walk and see again. To laugh again! She has been my best friend for 55 years. She will be my mother throughout eternity as I am sealed to her and my dad. I miss her already but I know when she's truly gone, I will feel a void like no other. Yet my faith in Jesus Christ and His gospel will fill that void. I have that sure, comforting knowledge and it heals my wounded heart.
Life is about change. We tumble through childhood, rush adulthood way too soon as teens, then spend the rest of our lives making our way as spiritual beings having a human existence. Sometimes bodies leave earth in nearly perfect states - like my niece Stacie and my friend Dave Henson. Other times bodies are crippled and broken or have worn out like the aged. All involve change at all seasons of life. We grow from tiny babies to adults. We gain and lose weight, hair and sanity. We reach peaks of human ability then start the slow decline from those peaks. Change is constant and good if we are changing for the better.
We are moving through this life to get to the next. Some get there faster than others. Some languish, like my mom, but eventually get there. What is on the other side of the veil? Is there sadness in heaven? Do we look back at earth and mourn the loss of that period of time in our eternal journey? Or are we glad it's over and we see with new spiritual eyes, the glory that lies ahead? The joy ahead must be staggering.
Are we busy helping those still on earth and if so, how are we helping them? Do we whisper in their ears or appear in their dreams to urge them to do all that is required for good? Who is whispering in my mom's ears? She has mentioned my dad and her parents, her brother and her friend Paula in the past few months. Are they taking a break from heavenly duties to usher my mom through this difficult time? They must know the day of her departure. They must know the reasons she is still here.
I seek comfort from a loving Heavenly Father. I pray for patience and to be prepared when the day comes my mother will take her final breath. I've said goodbyes. I've held her and sobbed out my love to her. I want better for her than what she has right now - she deserves to be free from this earthly body, to walk and see again. To laugh again! She has been my best friend for 55 years. She will be my mother throughout eternity as I am sealed to her and my dad. I miss her already but I know when she's truly gone, I will feel a void like no other. Yet my faith in Jesus Christ and His gospel will fill that void. I have that sure, comforting knowledge and it heals my wounded heart.
Wednesday, August 12, 2015
My Mother's Last Days - August 12, 2015
I hold my mom's hands. They are warm with blood still coursing through them. I watch for her heartbeat, it softly shows through her thin sweater. She has been alive in her body for 86 years and nearly three months. She has used her body for good: serving, loving, teaching, supporting. I imagine the time when my mother's heart will stop and her hands will grow cold. I'm afraid for that time. I can replay videos of her laughing, talking, vibrant with life. I can remember holding her in big hugs or kissing her on her forehead. But once she's gone I will not be able to touch her again. I can't capture that, as hard as I try.
Her smell will remain on her clothing, the fragrance "Beautiful" was hers and always will be. I'll buy a bottle to remember. I will look at photos and listen to sound bytes. I will taste the foods she loved - corn on the cob, fudge, rice pudding. I can smell, see, hear and taste things to remember her. But I won't have her to touch. It makes me sad. I will miss my mother's touch. I look forward to the day when I pass through the veil and find my mother with open arms, ready to give me the hug I'll want for the rest of my life.
Her smell will remain on her clothing, the fragrance "Beautiful" was hers and always will be. I'll buy a bottle to remember. I will look at photos and listen to sound bytes. I will taste the foods she loved - corn on the cob, fudge, rice pudding. I can smell, see, hear and taste things to remember her. But I won't have her to touch. It makes me sad. I will miss my mother's touch. I look forward to the day when I pass through the veil and find my mother with open arms, ready to give me the hug I'll want for the rest of my life.
Tuesday, August 11, 2015
My Mother's Last Days, August 9, 2015
I haven't written for a few weeks. I went to girls' camp and got out of the habit. My mom is in my thoughts every day though.
Yesterday I was at her house in Springville. Amy and Wolf were there and we were continuing the job of moving everything out of closets and rooms to one main area where we can sort and get things ready to sell. I washed a zillion pieces of glass. Amy stacked a zillion sweatshirts and sweaters into various piles. My mom liked things and yet she nurtured relationships. I know relationships trumps things, hands down, in my mom's book.
Wolf got tired and needed to be rocked. There isn't a rocking chair in the house so I went to the front porch and sat in my mom's blue rocking chair where I'd sat many times over the years. I rocked a baby boy and sang to him. As I gazed out over the yard and the big tree I began to cry. This little boy won't know his wonderful great-grandma. He won't get to run through the yard or climb the big tree we all climbed as kids. He won't get to run through the screen door, hearing it bang behind him like we did. My heart aches for the loss of my mother and she's still here. The house isn't the same without her and yet it holds so many memories and so much promise for the next family who will live there. I wish it could be us or one of our kids but it can't. We have to let it go. We have to let my mom go. We can hang on to memories and make new ones, different ones that don't involve a big tree or a blue rocker. It will be hard but Heavenly Father is helping every step of the way.
Yesterday I was at her house in Springville. Amy and Wolf were there and we were continuing the job of moving everything out of closets and rooms to one main area where we can sort and get things ready to sell. I washed a zillion pieces of glass. Amy stacked a zillion sweatshirts and sweaters into various piles. My mom liked things and yet she nurtured relationships. I know relationships trumps things, hands down, in my mom's book.
Wolf got tired and needed to be rocked. There isn't a rocking chair in the house so I went to the front porch and sat in my mom's blue rocking chair where I'd sat many times over the years. I rocked a baby boy and sang to him. As I gazed out over the yard and the big tree I began to cry. This little boy won't know his wonderful great-grandma. He won't get to run through the yard or climb the big tree we all climbed as kids. He won't get to run through the screen door, hearing it bang behind him like we did. My heart aches for the loss of my mother and she's still here. The house isn't the same without her and yet it holds so many memories and so much promise for the next family who will live there. I wish it could be us or one of our kids but it can't. We have to let it go. We have to let my mom go. We can hang on to memories and make new ones, different ones that don't involve a big tree or a blue rocker. It will be hard but Heavenly Father is helping every step of the way.
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
My Mother's Last Days - July 21, 2015
I won't be able to write for the next few days. I'm headed to girls' camp and technology is banned, happily by leaders, not so happily by the girls. I couldn't get a signal anyway - Camp Shalom is 10,000 feet and coverage is poor for cell companies. So it's easy to be obedient and I want to focus on my girls anyway.
My mother continues to decline. She moans incessantly and makes little sense when she speaks. She's talked of her parents being dead, of my dad dying, of a baby boy being born dead, of frogs, fire engines and how she'd be better off dead which is really the only sensible (in that it makes sense, not that I agree) thing she says besides "I love you." She gets agitated easily and the volume of her moaning rises if you try to adjust her head or feet or make other changes. I've heard her moans as I've stepped in the front door of the care center and mom's door was closed. Her room is quite far from the front door.
One aide gave her lorazepam and morphine on top of each other last weekend. It knocked my mom out and the aide achieved her goal - to have my mom be quiet. We complained and she was removed from med tech duty and banned from my mother's room. My mom continues to moan. There is a man who lives at the care center. He moves about in a motorized wheelchair. He eats his meals alone. I'm not sure of his ailment but he can speak slowly and be understood. One day this week he heard my mom moaning and he took a stuffed bear to her. I thanked him today for it. He slowly explained he heard her crying out a lot. He wanted to help.
Some people help by being tender and patient, holding her hand and telling her it will be alright. It sometimes soothes my mom but most often she remains agitated until she is given some authorized meds. I don't understand her moaning. I get frustrated and wonder why it doesn't bother her to listen to it go on and on. Does it help her to moan? Is it a comfort to her? The Latin meaning of dementia is "to depart one's mind." I know her mind is still there. She sometimes talks to us like she used to, even joking at very rare times. But what is it that descends over her mind to disconnect thoughts, blanket with a fog or trigger moaning? I hate dementia. It's one of the most unfair, awful, frustrating diseases humans have to endure. And I don't understand how and why my mom was targeted. We have longevity on both sides of the family - people who lived to be over 100 and they were coherent to the end. Why does my mom have to suffer this horrible end to her wonderful life? Perhaps we'll know when we move through the veil to the other side. I know she'll be happy to find out once she gets there. It will be sooner than later, of that I'm sure.
My mother continues to decline. She moans incessantly and makes little sense when she speaks. She's talked of her parents being dead, of my dad dying, of a baby boy being born dead, of frogs, fire engines and how she'd be better off dead which is really the only sensible (in that it makes sense, not that I agree) thing she says besides "I love you." She gets agitated easily and the volume of her moaning rises if you try to adjust her head or feet or make other changes. I've heard her moans as I've stepped in the front door of the care center and mom's door was closed. Her room is quite far from the front door.
One aide gave her lorazepam and morphine on top of each other last weekend. It knocked my mom out and the aide achieved her goal - to have my mom be quiet. We complained and she was removed from med tech duty and banned from my mother's room. My mom continues to moan. There is a man who lives at the care center. He moves about in a motorized wheelchair. He eats his meals alone. I'm not sure of his ailment but he can speak slowly and be understood. One day this week he heard my mom moaning and he took a stuffed bear to her. I thanked him today for it. He slowly explained he heard her crying out a lot. He wanted to help.
Some people help by being tender and patient, holding her hand and telling her it will be alright. It sometimes soothes my mom but most often she remains agitated until she is given some authorized meds. I don't understand her moaning. I get frustrated and wonder why it doesn't bother her to listen to it go on and on. Does it help her to moan? Is it a comfort to her? The Latin meaning of dementia is "to depart one's mind." I know her mind is still there. She sometimes talks to us like she used to, even joking at very rare times. But what is it that descends over her mind to disconnect thoughts, blanket with a fog or trigger moaning? I hate dementia. It's one of the most unfair, awful, frustrating diseases humans have to endure. And I don't understand how and why my mom was targeted. We have longevity on both sides of the family - people who lived to be over 100 and they were coherent to the end. Why does my mom have to suffer this horrible end to her wonderful life? Perhaps we'll know when we move through the veil to the other side. I know she'll be happy to find out once she gets there. It will be sooner than later, of that I'm sure.
Monday, July 20, 2015
My Mother's Last Days - July 20, 2015
My mom got mad at me once, sort of. Other than this one contrived instance, I don't remember my mom ever getting mad at me. I'm sure she got frustrated, especially when we were little, doing naughty things like painting the fireplace with peanut butter and chocolate powder. But there was never true anger. I love that so much - that I have gone through 55 years of life knowing my mother never showed anger towards me.
So the one instance happened in about 1977. My friend Lisa Robertson and I were inseparable. And we were boy crazy. In the summer we slept over at her house or mine, nearly every night. We decided to sleep at my house one night for reasons of proximity. We usually slept in the yard somewhere; it was too hot to sleep in the house. The night we chose was a watering night meaning my parents had their watering turn where water came down the ditch and they got to dam it off to flood the lawns and garden. We decided to sleep on the front porch, something we'd never done. And we had a plan to meet some boys. Lisa was interested in Tracy and I like Kelly. They were "older men" - friends who lived east a few blocks, hence our choice for my house. We fluffed up our sleeping bags to look like we were in them and took off, walking to Tracy's. We found them on Tracy's front lawn waiting and sat down to talk. Really, we were only talking. I don't think we were there very long when my mother pulled up in my dad's truck, rolled down the window and very slowly said, "Get ... In ... This ... Truck." We were mortified, jumped to our feet and got in the truck. I'm sure we were apologizing all the way back to our house. I don't remember where or if we slept. Lisa was so worried my mom would tell her parents and they'd kill her.
The next day my mom was making apricot jam. She had two beholden slaves. We peeled and pitted apricots for hours, Lisa whispering, "she's not going to tell my parents, is she?" My mother acted angry. She was silent which was not her usual self. She was usually vibrant, happy, chatty, laughing. But she was getting mileage out of these two wayward teens who she saved from, I'm sure, utter destruction.
She told me, maybe years later, that she wasn't angry but had to appear angry in the situation. It also didn't hurt to keep it going the next day because she got so much work out of us.
I am grateful my mom never truly found a reason to get angry at me. I did do some stupid things as a child and even more as a teen but she always showed patience and calmness toward me, even in trying situations. She talked things out rather than blowing up. I'm sure she prayed for guidance at times. We became best friends early on in my life. Best friends don't hurt each other. It's not even a matter not trying to hurt someone; when you love deeply it comes easily to treat someone well. She loves deeply. I love her deeply and always will.
So the one instance happened in about 1977. My friend Lisa Robertson and I were inseparable. And we were boy crazy. In the summer we slept over at her house or mine, nearly every night. We decided to sleep at my house one night for reasons of proximity. We usually slept in the yard somewhere; it was too hot to sleep in the house. The night we chose was a watering night meaning my parents had their watering turn where water came down the ditch and they got to dam it off to flood the lawns and garden. We decided to sleep on the front porch, something we'd never done. And we had a plan to meet some boys. Lisa was interested in Tracy and I like Kelly. They were "older men" - friends who lived east a few blocks, hence our choice for my house. We fluffed up our sleeping bags to look like we were in them and took off, walking to Tracy's. We found them on Tracy's front lawn waiting and sat down to talk. Really, we were only talking. I don't think we were there very long when my mother pulled up in my dad's truck, rolled down the window and very slowly said, "Get ... In ... This ... Truck." We were mortified, jumped to our feet and got in the truck. I'm sure we were apologizing all the way back to our house. I don't remember where or if we slept. Lisa was so worried my mom would tell her parents and they'd kill her.
The next day my mom was making apricot jam. She had two beholden slaves. We peeled and pitted apricots for hours, Lisa whispering, "she's not going to tell my parents, is she?" My mother acted angry. She was silent which was not her usual self. She was usually vibrant, happy, chatty, laughing. But she was getting mileage out of these two wayward teens who she saved from, I'm sure, utter destruction.
She told me, maybe years later, that she wasn't angry but had to appear angry in the situation. It also didn't hurt to keep it going the next day because she got so much work out of us.
I am grateful my mom never truly found a reason to get angry at me. I did do some stupid things as a child and even more as a teen but she always showed patience and calmness toward me, even in trying situations. She talked things out rather than blowing up. I'm sure she prayed for guidance at times. We became best friends early on in my life. Best friends don't hurt each other. It's not even a matter not trying to hurt someone; when you love deeply it comes easily to treat someone well. She loves deeply. I love her deeply and always will.
Sunday, July 19, 2015
My Mother's Last Days - July 19, 2015
I didn't write yesterday. Life pushes and pulls me from a million different directions and time slipped away before I got a chance to write.
Being Sunday, I want to reflect on my mom's activity in the church, her love of the Savior and her testimony. As with some people in the church, my mom went through stages of activity in the gospel throughout her life. My mom and dad were married in the Salt Lake Temple on Oct. 1, 1947. My mom was 18; dad was 19 - a young, madly-in-love couple. They chose to be sealed for time and all eternity so I know it was important to them on some level.
My siblings have memories of my parents not going to church in their early years. I know Kelly and I were blessed when we were babies - there are pictures of that day. My memories of church go as far back as I can remember. We went to Jr. Sunday School in the basement of the 8th ward church in Springville. There were wooden pews and the sacrament was passed. The chapel had a loft with stairs to it. You could go upstairs if the main floor was crowded with worshipers. I remember being baptized by my brother Paul and confirmed the next day by my dad in sacrament meeting.
My mother served as mutual president when Kelly and I were little. I remember her telling me she asked to be released because having twins was just too demanding. But she told stories of going to girls' camp at Timp Lodge behind Timpanogos and Gold and Green Balls, church bazaars where ladies crocheted, knitted and baked to raise money for the church budget, I think. So I know she was involved in church activities and my memories are that we were a family who went to church.
I'm not sure how much my mom and dad went to the temple in the first 20 years of their marriage but they did go with my brothers as each received their endowment in the temple prior to their missions and I prepared for marriage. They attended sealings of children and grandchildren in various temples. I saw my father and mother become more active in the gospel, accepting a calling to do proxy sealings weekly in the Provo Temple.
In mom's later years she received her patriarchal blessing and she loved to go to the temple. She is a big advocate of prayer. I sometimes think she has a straight link to Heavenly Father; that he listens and answers her fervent prayers. I've heard her pray for long periods of time in a meaningful, non-repetitive way. I know He hears her.
Mom has shared her testimony with me. She believes in God and His son Jesus Christ. She loves the gospel of Jesus Christ. She has spoken of Joseph Smith and his role in the restoration of the gospel. She has been a wonderful supporter of missionaries, sending money to each grandchild who served a mission. Without even saying a word, I know my mother lives and loves the gospel. She is the epitome of Christlike love, sacrifice, forgiveness and kindness. She has turned the other cheek many times and has been blessed for it.
Mom wanted to die with a current temple recommend. That will happen, thanks to a wonderful bishop and stake president who renewed it last fall by going to visit her rather than her going to them.
I'm grateful for my mom and her love of the gospel. We joke she has earned sainthood because of her dealings in this life. I believe she will be exalted and that she is one of God's chosen daughters. I can't wait to spend eternity loving the mother I loved on earth.
Being Sunday, I want to reflect on my mom's activity in the church, her love of the Savior and her testimony. As with some people in the church, my mom went through stages of activity in the gospel throughout her life. My mom and dad were married in the Salt Lake Temple on Oct. 1, 1947. My mom was 18; dad was 19 - a young, madly-in-love couple. They chose to be sealed for time and all eternity so I know it was important to them on some level.
My siblings have memories of my parents not going to church in their early years. I know Kelly and I were blessed when we were babies - there are pictures of that day. My memories of church go as far back as I can remember. We went to Jr. Sunday School in the basement of the 8th ward church in Springville. There were wooden pews and the sacrament was passed. The chapel had a loft with stairs to it. You could go upstairs if the main floor was crowded with worshipers. I remember being baptized by my brother Paul and confirmed the next day by my dad in sacrament meeting.
My mother served as mutual president when Kelly and I were little. I remember her telling me she asked to be released because having twins was just too demanding. But she told stories of going to girls' camp at Timp Lodge behind Timpanogos and Gold and Green Balls, church bazaars where ladies crocheted, knitted and baked to raise money for the church budget, I think. So I know she was involved in church activities and my memories are that we were a family who went to church.
I'm not sure how much my mom and dad went to the temple in the first 20 years of their marriage but they did go with my brothers as each received their endowment in the temple prior to their missions and I prepared for marriage. They attended sealings of children and grandchildren in various temples. I saw my father and mother become more active in the gospel, accepting a calling to do proxy sealings weekly in the Provo Temple.
In mom's later years she received her patriarchal blessing and she loved to go to the temple. She is a big advocate of prayer. I sometimes think she has a straight link to Heavenly Father; that he listens and answers her fervent prayers. I've heard her pray for long periods of time in a meaningful, non-repetitive way. I know He hears her.
Mom has shared her testimony with me. She believes in God and His son Jesus Christ. She loves the gospel of Jesus Christ. She has spoken of Joseph Smith and his role in the restoration of the gospel. She has been a wonderful supporter of missionaries, sending money to each grandchild who served a mission. Without even saying a word, I know my mother lives and loves the gospel. She is the epitome of Christlike love, sacrifice, forgiveness and kindness. She has turned the other cheek many times and has been blessed for it.
Mom wanted to die with a current temple recommend. That will happen, thanks to a wonderful bishop and stake president who renewed it last fall by going to visit her rather than her going to them.
I'm grateful for my mom and her love of the gospel. We joke she has earned sainthood because of her dealings in this life. I believe she will be exalted and that she is one of God's chosen daughters. I can't wait to spend eternity loving the mother I loved on earth.
Friday, July 17, 2015
My Mother's Last Days, July 17, 2015
Wouldn't it be interesting to know the date of our departure? How would we live our lives differently if we knew what the final date on our headstone would be? If I were to guess at a countdown regarding my mom's departure it would be 30 days or less. But I can't count down at this point. I have to be grateful for each day she is still here, hard as it is for all of us, including her.
A few days ago I was sitting at my kitchen table feeding my 13-month-old grandson. He can use a fork now and he switches off between fork and fingers with most things. I occasionally plop something into his mouth - a juicy berry or a piece of banana. This day I was feeding him yogurt from a spoon. A few hours later I was feeding my 86-year-old mother yogurt from a spoon. My Wolf cub waved his arms, smashed berries on the table and eagerly took a spoonful from me each time I offered it. My mom lay nearly motionless and I had to coax her to take a spoonful. I had to remind her to close her mouth and swallow. Wolf is learning and gaining new skills daily. Mom is losing hers minute by minute, skills she mastered over eight decades ago and used every day of her life.
A numb sadness comes over me when I visit my mom and see the condition she's in now. She weighs less than 100 pounds. She moans most of the time. She is vacant and mumbles nonsensical things about babies dying or deep water. I cry as I leave my mom's care center. I'm so tired of this for her. I want her to be able to see sunsets and flowers again, to walk easily and laugh her wonderful laugh. If I was a desperate, faithless person I'd frantically try to keep her here, to help her regain what she's lost. But I'm not desperate and I have faith. I know she will be waiting for me when I pass through the veil later in life. That is God's plan. Her time is coming. Her body and mind are fading but the memories I have of her through the past 86 years will never fade. The best memories for me started at about age 4 when I can truly remember events. Those events include my mother - happy, smiling, laughing. And new memories are being made with a tiny boy who is at the beginning of his life.
A headstone has a birth date and a death date. There is a dash between the two. That line on a headstone represents so much. I don't know the end date of my mom's life. I wasn't there for her birth. But I've been there for the dash and what a dash it's been! I thank a loving Heavenly Father for every day of my mother's life.
A few days ago I was sitting at my kitchen table feeding my 13-month-old grandson. He can use a fork now and he switches off between fork and fingers with most things. I occasionally plop something into his mouth - a juicy berry or a piece of banana. This day I was feeding him yogurt from a spoon. A few hours later I was feeding my 86-year-old mother yogurt from a spoon. My Wolf cub waved his arms, smashed berries on the table and eagerly took a spoonful from me each time I offered it. My mom lay nearly motionless and I had to coax her to take a spoonful. I had to remind her to close her mouth and swallow. Wolf is learning and gaining new skills daily. Mom is losing hers minute by minute, skills she mastered over eight decades ago and used every day of her life.
A numb sadness comes over me when I visit my mom and see the condition she's in now. She weighs less than 100 pounds. She moans most of the time. She is vacant and mumbles nonsensical things about babies dying or deep water. I cry as I leave my mom's care center. I'm so tired of this for her. I want her to be able to see sunsets and flowers again, to walk easily and laugh her wonderful laugh. If I was a desperate, faithless person I'd frantically try to keep her here, to help her regain what she's lost. But I'm not desperate and I have faith. I know she will be waiting for me when I pass through the veil later in life. That is God's plan. Her time is coming. Her body and mind are fading but the memories I have of her through the past 86 years will never fade. The best memories for me started at about age 4 when I can truly remember events. Those events include my mother - happy, smiling, laughing. And new memories are being made with a tiny boy who is at the beginning of his life.
A headstone has a birth date and a death date. There is a dash between the two. That line on a headstone represents so much. I don't know the end date of my mom's life. I wasn't there for her birth. But I've been there for the dash and what a dash it's been! I thank a loving Heavenly Father for every day of my mother's life.
Thursday, July 16, 2015
My Mother's Last Days
I know my mom is nearing the end of her life. I've decided to write down some memories from my life about her, something she taught me or something happening now and how difficult this is. I don't know how many times I will get to write before she's gone. And time is scarce right now as I am with her more and also trying to take care of other things in my life.
My mom has been one of the most influential people in my life, if not the most. I look at her characteristics and think how blessed I am that I inherited many of them. She loves people. She brought people into her home for meals or parties and created the fun that made happy memories with and for them. She was all about details - the food, decorations, place settings, etc. I learned how to throw a party because of my mom.
She was a great cook and made delicious meals. I'm not the cook she was but I learned many things from her. As a young girl I learned how to bake desserts and cookies, mash potatoes, make a fruit salad - simple things. As a teen I helped her bottle tomatoes (squishing them was the best part) and apricots (there's another story about apricots I'll have to share) and I helped her make sweet pickles - a complicated, lengthy process. She gave me her pickle crock a few years back because she remembered that we made pickles together and she wanted me to have it. As a young married woman I called her and asked how to bottle pears. She told me and wrote the instructions down for me. I still have that paper. I bottle pears every fall. We both love them, especially with cottage cheese. We made strawberry and raspberry freezer jam together nearly every summer when I returned to Utah in 1999. She taught me how to make "her" stuffing, to stuff and roast a turkey. My family doesn't like stuffing any other way.
My mom taught me to sew. When I was young she made matching dresses and headbands for us - mine was blue velvet; hers was black. I wish I still had those dresses. I can see them in my mind's eye. She showed me how to mend things, to sew on a button and fix a hem. I've done many of those things for her in the past 16 years or so.
My mother loved flowers and took great care in her yard. One summer she had a broken leg. (My dad had accidentally hit her with a golf ball while golfing. He never golfed again.) She used a mechanic's creeper to move along her flower beds. I helped her dislodge the petunias, geraniums and other flowers from their plastic containers and drop them in the holes she had dug. I took over planting her flowers many years ago, creating colorful pots of flowers, hanging her large baskets on the front porch, caring for the geraniums in her blue planter box dad had made. I don't plant many annuals in our yard but when I do, I think of my mom.
Mom used to keep a very tidy house. "A place for everything and everything in its place." I learned how to clean, do laundry, wash windows, dust, vacuum and more. I keep a pretty tidy house too because of what she taught me. The past 15 years or so I cleaned at her house even though for many of those years she was capable. I wanted to ease her load, pay her back, show my love. I'm not a big gift giver. If I give gifts they are more utilitarian than fluffy but I'd rather give the gift of time and effort, making memories, making life easier for someone.
All these things are valuable to me - learning how to cook, sew, keep house. Yet the thing I loved learning most from my mom was how to treat, love and care for others. It's not just that she taught me how to love, she taught me how to not hate. My mom has never hated anything. (Many years ago she said she didn't like the pink flamingos people stick in their yards, that they were tacky. That just started a barrage of pink flamingo paraphernalia to her from family and friends. Maybe if she'd said she didn't like twenty dollar bills ...). Some of my mother's sayings were, "be a good actress," "kill them with kindness," "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." I learned tact and grace from my mom. I learned to love people of every walk of life and to not judge others. I learned you can disagree without being disagreeable and that you could listen and respect others' points of view. Someone could treat my mom unkindly and she would return it with a smile and a kind word. She smiled a lot, accepted a lot, soothed a lot. My mom was the ultimate picture of genuine kindness.
I'm grateful I can be at peace in my heart, that when others say or do something that would be offensive and hurtful I can, hopefully, remember my mom and how she dealt with things. I'm not perfect at it. I hurt and sometimes cry when someone is mean to me. I'm sure she hurt when that happened to her too. But it's a Christlike quality to turn the other cheek, to forgive quickly and easily. My heart is happier when I can be that way, no matter the circumstances. And I'm grateful to her for emulating that quality so I could learn from one of God's choicest spirits. Thank you mom.
I know my mom is nearing the end of her life. I've decided to write down some memories from my life about her, something she taught me or something happening now and how difficult this is. I don't know how many times I will get to write before she's gone. And time is scarce right now as I am with her more and also trying to take care of other things in my life.
My mom has been one of the most influential people in my life, if not the most. I look at her characteristics and think how blessed I am that I inherited many of them. She loves people. She brought people into her home for meals or parties and created the fun that made happy memories with and for them. She was all about details - the food, decorations, place settings, etc. I learned how to throw a party because of my mom.
She was a great cook and made delicious meals. I'm not the cook she was but I learned many things from her. As a young girl I learned how to bake desserts and cookies, mash potatoes, make a fruit salad - simple things. As a teen I helped her bottle tomatoes (squishing them was the best part) and apricots (there's another story about apricots I'll have to share) and I helped her make sweet pickles - a complicated, lengthy process. She gave me her pickle crock a few years back because she remembered that we made pickles together and she wanted me to have it. As a young married woman I called her and asked how to bottle pears. She told me and wrote the instructions down for me. I still have that paper. I bottle pears every fall. We both love them, especially with cottage cheese. We made strawberry and raspberry freezer jam together nearly every summer when I returned to Utah in 1999. She taught me how to make "her" stuffing, to stuff and roast a turkey. My family doesn't like stuffing any other way.
My mom taught me to sew. When I was young she made matching dresses and headbands for us - mine was blue velvet; hers was black. I wish I still had those dresses. I can see them in my mind's eye. She showed me how to mend things, to sew on a button and fix a hem. I've done many of those things for her in the past 16 years or so.
My mother loved flowers and took great care in her yard. One summer she had a broken leg. (My dad had accidentally hit her with a golf ball while golfing. He never golfed again.) She used a mechanic's creeper to move along her flower beds. I helped her dislodge the petunias, geraniums and other flowers from their plastic containers and drop them in the holes she had dug. I took over planting her flowers many years ago, creating colorful pots of flowers, hanging her large baskets on the front porch, caring for the geraniums in her blue planter box dad had made. I don't plant many annuals in our yard but when I do, I think of my mom.
Mom used to keep a very tidy house. "A place for everything and everything in its place." I learned how to clean, do laundry, wash windows, dust, vacuum and more. I keep a pretty tidy house too because of what she taught me. The past 15 years or so I cleaned at her house even though for many of those years she was capable. I wanted to ease her load, pay her back, show my love. I'm not a big gift giver. If I give gifts they are more utilitarian than fluffy but I'd rather give the gift of time and effort, making memories, making life easier for someone.
All these things are valuable to me - learning how to cook, sew, keep house. Yet the thing I loved learning most from my mom was how to treat, love and care for others. It's not just that she taught me how to love, she taught me how to not hate. My mom has never hated anything. (Many years ago she said she didn't like the pink flamingos people stick in their yards, that they were tacky. That just started a barrage of pink flamingo paraphernalia to her from family and friends. Maybe if she'd said she didn't like twenty dollar bills ...). Some of my mother's sayings were, "be a good actress," "kill them with kindness," "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all." I learned tact and grace from my mom. I learned to love people of every walk of life and to not judge others. I learned you can disagree without being disagreeable and that you could listen and respect others' points of view. Someone could treat my mom unkindly and she would return it with a smile and a kind word. She smiled a lot, accepted a lot, soothed a lot. My mom was the ultimate picture of genuine kindness.
I'm grateful I can be at peace in my heart, that when others say or do something that would be offensive and hurtful I can, hopefully, remember my mom and how she dealt with things. I'm not perfect at it. I hurt and sometimes cry when someone is mean to me. I'm sure she hurt when that happened to her too. But it's a Christlike quality to turn the other cheek, to forgive quickly and easily. My heart is happier when I can be that way, no matter the circumstances. And I'm grateful to her for emulating that quality so I could learn from one of God's choicest spirits. Thank you mom.
Friday, February 13, 2015
My mom's life changed dramatically
My mom's health started going downhill in 2008 when she was 79. In
the fall of that year she said she wasn't going to drive anymore. She
was worried her eyesight was failing and she didn't want to hurt anyone.
I started taking her practically everywhere she needed to go - stores,
doctors, funerals, weddings, etc. She felt sad to lose this independence
but we knew she had made a wise decision. She kept saying she didn't
want to be a burden. I told her I loved being with her and she would
never be a burden.
At the time, I reassured her I was fine taking her where she needed to go. And I was. I did have to work around my job, my callings, my family's needs, etc. but I loved being with my mom. We've always had a wonderful relationship and friendship and it was a pleasure to be with her. She was always worried she'd be a burden to me.
The year 2009 was difficult. She had horrible back pain from osteoporosis, arthritis and degenerative disk disease which necessitated many doctor and hospital visits for epidurals. She gradually became less happy and more tearful. By August of 2009 she had a new problem - horrible headaches. I remember one day she called me at work 14 times. I couldn't answer because I doing orientation with new journalism students. When I finally called her she said her head hurt so bad. We worked with her doctor to give her better pain meds but by the end of the month, she wasn't better, she was worse. An MRI was ordered and she was found to have had a brain bleed or a small stroke. That news changed her life and ours.
Mom spent more than three months in a rehab center. It was excruciating for her and us. I thought she was going to die. I worked with her doctor to get her pain controlled and with her PTs to get her moving again. She needed hearing aids. She didn't want to go anywhere except in a wheelchair. She was angry and mean to me, something I had never experienced. It made me cry. After many prayers, priesthood blessings, hours of coercion and pushing to exercise and try, she rallied. By mid-November she was nearly her old, wonderful self again. But she couldn't live alone. It would take pages to write about clearing out space in her house, moving items from the "caretakers' apartment" (my brothers' old bedroom) to store in other areas, posting ads, interviewing and eventually hiring caretakers. I had to decide how much to pay, what care was involved, what was expected of the caregivers, what we were expected to do for mom and to provide for them. So many details! Over the course of the next five years mom had seven sets of caregivers. Some were better than others. All were good to mom, for the most part. It was hard for her to have strangers living in her home, telling her what to do and what not to do. I was on the other end, hearing their frustrations, hearing mom's frustrations, getting criticism and questions from others. And also getting a lot of love and support from wonderful family and friends. I had my own priesthood blessings when I was in such despair I didn't think I could go on. Heavenly Father has blessed me richly for caring for my mom and I am truly indebted to him.
There were good times and bad times during those years - mostly good, which we were all grateful for. Mom was still funny, happy, giving, willing, agreeable and could do many things for herself. She had not lost the ability to feed herself or use the bathroom without help. She did need help showering and she even made it fun, singing in the shower with a caregiver or making animal noises. My mom - always the joker, made it more fun, probably because she might have been a bit embarrassed to be naked in front of someone else. Make jokes, lighten the mood. She gradually adapted to having others care for her. So much so sometimes that she lost the ability to do things herself, like buttoning her own buttons. We had arguments about things like that. She'd complain that they wouldn't do her buttons. I'd tell her that I told them not to, that they should make you do it. She'd get mad and ask why. I'd tell her, "so you don't lose the ability to." She'd try for a time then give up and they'd do things for her that she should have done.
During this time, mom was losing her eyesight. She'd always had wonderful eyesight. She was the one who could see the billboard miles away when we were playing "Alphabet" on the drive between Pinedale, Wyoming and home. I took her to an eye clinic the summer of 2011. Doctors treated her for glaucoma, removed cataracts and prescribed drops for her eyes. I remember the first time she had to have a shot in her eye. She was scared and it hurt. We hugged and cried when we got to the car. It was a difficult experience and I was parenting my parent - comforting my mom in a moment of distress. It became one of so many. She got many shots over the years. At one point, when she basically couldn't read any letters in the field vision test, she asked the doctor why she should continue coming to him if she couldn't see. He really didn't have an answer. Yet he wouldn't declare her legally blind for tax purposes and even said she had enough vision to pass a driving test. Idiot.
Mom was losing words. When she couldn't come up with a word she'd laugh and fill in with another. It was funny. But it bothered her.
Each set of caregivers handled a different odd issue. One was the lawns. Mom wanted her lawns to be green and pestered one woman caregiver to the point that the water bill was $300 for one month. I told the caregivers how much to water and when and that I didn't care if the lawns stayed solid green. And I explained it to mom - she was being demanding about something that just didn't matter and it was alienating her caregiver. Another time mom was upset that her light bulbs weren't bright enough. The caregivers bought and changed out all the downstairs light bulbs several times. She wasn't satisfied. I had to explain that the bulbs were bright enough but that her eyesight was dimming. A sad situation to face.
One time she decided her box springs were hurting her back. She had a new, deep mattress on top of old box springs. I told her there wasn't a way to feel what the box springs felt like. She argued and argued and yelled, "I'm worth more than a set of box springs!" I bought new box springs.
Mom called one day and said she had no wash cloths in the house, that the caregivers had just cut up old bath towels into wash cloths. I bought some new ones on the way over, then pulled out every wash cloth in the house. There were at least 40. She said they were old and scratchy. I told her to feel them and see which ones were ok. She fingered all 40. All 40 were ok. Still kept the new ones.
There were arguments about sandals and orthotics, the flavor of yogurt, going to the dentist (she thought you only needed to go when you had a problem ...), the flavor of Gatorade, Gatorade powder (cheaper) as opposed to already bottled.
It got harder to move her around. She couldn't see and wasn't steady on her feet. I sometimes had to make several trips from car to house or car to Shauna's salon or wherever to get her and everything in. She apologized for being a burden. I reassured her she wasn't.
As I look back at the episodes with wash cloths and light bulbs and forgetting words I see now the beginning of dementia. I just didn't know about this disease or symptoms of a disease.
By mid-November the last wonderful set of caregivers were exhausted. They were getting up many times in the night. Mom couldn't see to use the bathroom and couldn't see if she had mess on her hands. She would smear it on clothing, counters, her walker, etc. She went from being constipated to having diarrhea. She asked the same questions over and over. We admonished them to be patient, that she was old. But wow, it was hard. Looking back I admire how long they hung in there. And Tam and Tofaea were still having fun with her. I'd sneak in the door and hear their conversations, still with laughter, still with love. But getting up 5-10 times at night, especially with an infant, wore on them. And the messes wore on them. They told me they were going to quit at the end of December. They agreed to stay so mom could have Christmas one more time in her home.
A few years back I had seen a new care center being built on 900 East in Provo. I'd passed it many times. I even made an appointment for a tour back when it was opening but the appointment fell through. I mentioned this place to my sister. She stopped and took a tour and was very impressed so I went the next day. It was everything we wanted for mom. It cost more than other places further south but I didn't want to drive south and my sister didn't want to drive north to Orem. So this seemed like a logical place - right in between the two of us. I worked with Owen Snead, the director, to get things rolling with the plan to have mom enter on Dec. 29th. Many forms to fill out, financial matters to go over, doctors forms to get, meds to switch from one pharmacy to the house one, a new nurse and CNAs to bring up to speed. It was stressful and exhausting.
We felt we were divinely led to Our House, the care center we chose. There were also some quirky things like Owen Snead buying my mom's friend Lorna Condie's house in Springville. Mom's next-door neighbor Paris was at the center when I first went - her mom had just died. She had lived there several years. Paris donated her mother's furniture to us for mom to use. And ironically, mom ended up in Paris' mom's room. A woman named Ema lived there - she was my employee at Canyon Crest. Another friend, Patty Sanderson, was secretary at Canyon Crest when Ema and I worked there. Patty and her husband coordinate the Sunday services for residents.
Plans changed the week of Dec. 16 when it became necessary for mom to go to the care center sooner than planned. I was in Phoenix but spent time on the phone making arrangements and figuring things out long distance. I arrived home on the 18th and stayed with mom that day and night. Jan came after work and we told mom about the need to go live in a care center. We thought mom would fight it but Jan did a beautiful job of leading up to why it was necessary and mom bought into it. We were astonished and thankful.
The date for mom to move in was Dec. 19, the next day. Working from a list from the care center I pulled items from all over mom's house to label and pack. My dear friend Jera Parker came as did Amy and Wolf. Melanie came and sat with mom while we worked to get things labeled and organized. There was a wonderful, happy spirit of togetherness in the house. It felt good. I know we were being blessed, guided and comforted that day as we made preparations to make the biggest change of my mom's life. Jera ran to WalMart for needed items and bought lunch for all of us. Tam and Tofaea packed and moved some of their things. Mom happily held baby June and baby Wolf. She was pampered all day by all of us.
Riley and Paul Ashton came for the big items - the dresser from Paris, mom's bed, big chair, nightstand and other heavy items. They loaded them on Paul's trailer and hauled it all into mom's room - #53. Jera and I followed in our cars with mom and the rest of her things. Mom was calm and seemingly happy. She'd taught us all her life to be a good actress. I think she was doing just that.
It felt a little strange to decide what mom would need at the care center. This wasn't just a visit. This was where she would probably spend the rest of her life. She had spent 53 years in her home on 200 South and now we were deciding what small accumulation of things would make up the last days, weeks or months of her life. Many of the things we took were for us - pictures of family, a pink flamingo, a cookie jar. I knew she couldn't see any of it but they would, at least, be conversation starters for visitors, and would make us feel at home. We took her favorite clothes and blankets, her hot pad, used every day, all day, lamps, her exercise pedals, Mr. Saver (oxygen), and other items.
For several hours we unpacked and placed things around the room. We started learning the routine of Our House. We'd learn later that the staff was short handed - it was Christmas and staff were gone. Since we had to rush getting mom admitted there were no medical orders. I wrote many notes explaining how to take care of her and posted them everywhere. Mom was calm that day so I thought we were off to a good start. Not so.
I was exhausted and didn't get down to see mom as quickly as I had wanted to on Saturday the 20th. I called Amy and asked if she would go check on "Gma" since Amy lives just four blocks away, which is a huge blessing! She called me in tears a bit later and asked me to please hurry, gramma was very upset. I drove quickly and saw my mom in a state I've never seen her in - agitated, angry, flailing, yelling - for a solid two hours. She wailed:
~I can't believe you'd do this to me.
~I can't live here; I want to go home right now.
~I'll never forgive you for this.
~How would you feel if someone did this to you?
~You've taken away my life, you've thrown me out of my home.
~I'm in the middle of nowhere; no one knows where I am.
~I might as well be dead.
David and Jera Parker had come to visit and I shooed them out. I was in tears. Then I called them and asked them to find Riley so he and Dave could give mom a blessing. They did a while later and she seemed to calm down. But for the next four weeks it was a roller coaster of those emotions and those statements along with her genuine love for us and a willingness to try. Dementia and Sundowners affect the mind - they bring clouds and curtains of sadness, confusion, doubt and anger. There are times when mom is a babbling, incoherent mess. When we are lucky our old mom comes out to play. We've had ups and downs within minutes and within the course of a day. We've had the good, happy mom for several days in a row. There is no rhyme or reason. We never know which mom we will get. But we love her no matter what.
Mom has learned a new normal. She has dug her heels in at times, saying "I can't ..." but she has learned. She can use the call button she wears to call an aide. She will exercise with her pedals. She now drinks more - a huge help to having cognitive ability. And she loves to sing! We've sung many old-time songs and she now entertains people in the dining room with her songs. She is now the darling of Our House, as we knew she would be. She can't see her new friends and doesn't know their names. But she is grateful - she tells me she makes sure she tells people "thank you" for helping her.
My sister and I see her nearly every day. Sometimes mom doesn't remember we were there and asks why we never come. I guess we could skip going since she doesn't remember but I go because it makes her happy in the moment. And it gives me comfort that my mom is still here, whichever version of mom that is.
It's been eight weeks since mom went to live at Our House. I visit our house, the house in Springville I grew up in and I have to push away the sadness as I wander the rooms. I know we will dismantle that house, the trinkets and memories, probably soon. We cannot pay the bills of her new life without selling the home of her old. That hurts my heart. I don't have memories of another home with my parents and siblings. While I lived away from Utah for 11 years of my 54 on earth, that house is where we came home to for visits. Opening the front door, from the days of my youth to my adult years, I always knew my mom would be there, waiting with a hug and a smile and a welcome home. I know Heavenly Father has a plan for my mom and wherever she lives, I will visit and I will love her.
At the time, I reassured her I was fine taking her where she needed to go. And I was. I did have to work around my job, my callings, my family's needs, etc. but I loved being with my mom. We've always had a wonderful relationship and friendship and it was a pleasure to be with her. She was always worried she'd be a burden to me.
The year 2009 was difficult. She had horrible back pain from osteoporosis, arthritis and degenerative disk disease which necessitated many doctor and hospital visits for epidurals. She gradually became less happy and more tearful. By August of 2009 she had a new problem - horrible headaches. I remember one day she called me at work 14 times. I couldn't answer because I doing orientation with new journalism students. When I finally called her she said her head hurt so bad. We worked with her doctor to give her better pain meds but by the end of the month, she wasn't better, she was worse. An MRI was ordered and she was found to have had a brain bleed or a small stroke. That news changed her life and ours.
Mom spent more than three months in a rehab center. It was excruciating for her and us. I thought she was going to die. I worked with her doctor to get her pain controlled and with her PTs to get her moving again. She needed hearing aids. She didn't want to go anywhere except in a wheelchair. She was angry and mean to me, something I had never experienced. It made me cry. After many prayers, priesthood blessings, hours of coercion and pushing to exercise and try, she rallied. By mid-November she was nearly her old, wonderful self again. But she couldn't live alone. It would take pages to write about clearing out space in her house, moving items from the "caretakers' apartment" (my brothers' old bedroom) to store in other areas, posting ads, interviewing and eventually hiring caretakers. I had to decide how much to pay, what care was involved, what was expected of the caregivers, what we were expected to do for mom and to provide for them. So many details! Over the course of the next five years mom had seven sets of caregivers. Some were better than others. All were good to mom, for the most part. It was hard for her to have strangers living in her home, telling her what to do and what not to do. I was on the other end, hearing their frustrations, hearing mom's frustrations, getting criticism and questions from others. And also getting a lot of love and support from wonderful family and friends. I had my own priesthood blessings when I was in such despair I didn't think I could go on. Heavenly Father has blessed me richly for caring for my mom and I am truly indebted to him.
There were good times and bad times during those years - mostly good, which we were all grateful for. Mom was still funny, happy, giving, willing, agreeable and could do many things for herself. She had not lost the ability to feed herself or use the bathroom without help. She did need help showering and she even made it fun, singing in the shower with a caregiver or making animal noises. My mom - always the joker, made it more fun, probably because she might have been a bit embarrassed to be naked in front of someone else. Make jokes, lighten the mood. She gradually adapted to having others care for her. So much so sometimes that she lost the ability to do things herself, like buttoning her own buttons. We had arguments about things like that. She'd complain that they wouldn't do her buttons. I'd tell her that I told them not to, that they should make you do it. She'd get mad and ask why. I'd tell her, "so you don't lose the ability to." She'd try for a time then give up and they'd do things for her that she should have done.
During this time, mom was losing her eyesight. She'd always had wonderful eyesight. She was the one who could see the billboard miles away when we were playing "Alphabet" on the drive between Pinedale, Wyoming and home. I took her to an eye clinic the summer of 2011. Doctors treated her for glaucoma, removed cataracts and prescribed drops for her eyes. I remember the first time she had to have a shot in her eye. She was scared and it hurt. We hugged and cried when we got to the car. It was a difficult experience and I was parenting my parent - comforting my mom in a moment of distress. It became one of so many. She got many shots over the years. At one point, when she basically couldn't read any letters in the field vision test, she asked the doctor why she should continue coming to him if she couldn't see. He really didn't have an answer. Yet he wouldn't declare her legally blind for tax purposes and even said she had enough vision to pass a driving test. Idiot.
Mom was losing words. When she couldn't come up with a word she'd laugh and fill in with another. It was funny. But it bothered her.
Each set of caregivers handled a different odd issue. One was the lawns. Mom wanted her lawns to be green and pestered one woman caregiver to the point that the water bill was $300 for one month. I told the caregivers how much to water and when and that I didn't care if the lawns stayed solid green. And I explained it to mom - she was being demanding about something that just didn't matter and it was alienating her caregiver. Another time mom was upset that her light bulbs weren't bright enough. The caregivers bought and changed out all the downstairs light bulbs several times. She wasn't satisfied. I had to explain that the bulbs were bright enough but that her eyesight was dimming. A sad situation to face.
One time she decided her box springs were hurting her back. She had a new, deep mattress on top of old box springs. I told her there wasn't a way to feel what the box springs felt like. She argued and argued and yelled, "I'm worth more than a set of box springs!" I bought new box springs.
Mom called one day and said she had no wash cloths in the house, that the caregivers had just cut up old bath towels into wash cloths. I bought some new ones on the way over, then pulled out every wash cloth in the house. There were at least 40. She said they were old and scratchy. I told her to feel them and see which ones were ok. She fingered all 40. All 40 were ok. Still kept the new ones.
There were arguments about sandals and orthotics, the flavor of yogurt, going to the dentist (she thought you only needed to go when you had a problem ...), the flavor of Gatorade, Gatorade powder (cheaper) as opposed to already bottled.
It got harder to move her around. She couldn't see and wasn't steady on her feet. I sometimes had to make several trips from car to house or car to Shauna's salon or wherever to get her and everything in. She apologized for being a burden. I reassured her she wasn't.
As I look back at the episodes with wash cloths and light bulbs and forgetting words I see now the beginning of dementia. I just didn't know about this disease or symptoms of a disease.
By mid-November the last wonderful set of caregivers were exhausted. They were getting up many times in the night. Mom couldn't see to use the bathroom and couldn't see if she had mess on her hands. She would smear it on clothing, counters, her walker, etc. She went from being constipated to having diarrhea. She asked the same questions over and over. We admonished them to be patient, that she was old. But wow, it was hard. Looking back I admire how long they hung in there. And Tam and Tofaea were still having fun with her. I'd sneak in the door and hear their conversations, still with laughter, still with love. But getting up 5-10 times at night, especially with an infant, wore on them. And the messes wore on them. They told me they were going to quit at the end of December. They agreed to stay so mom could have Christmas one more time in her home.
A few years back I had seen a new care center being built on 900 East in Provo. I'd passed it many times. I even made an appointment for a tour back when it was opening but the appointment fell through. I mentioned this place to my sister. She stopped and took a tour and was very impressed so I went the next day. It was everything we wanted for mom. It cost more than other places further south but I didn't want to drive south and my sister didn't want to drive north to Orem. So this seemed like a logical place - right in between the two of us. I worked with Owen Snead, the director, to get things rolling with the plan to have mom enter on Dec. 29th. Many forms to fill out, financial matters to go over, doctors forms to get, meds to switch from one pharmacy to the house one, a new nurse and CNAs to bring up to speed. It was stressful and exhausting.
We felt we were divinely led to Our House, the care center we chose. There were also some quirky things like Owen Snead buying my mom's friend Lorna Condie's house in Springville. Mom's next-door neighbor Paris was at the center when I first went - her mom had just died. She had lived there several years. Paris donated her mother's furniture to us for mom to use. And ironically, mom ended up in Paris' mom's room. A woman named Ema lived there - she was my employee at Canyon Crest. Another friend, Patty Sanderson, was secretary at Canyon Crest when Ema and I worked there. Patty and her husband coordinate the Sunday services for residents.
Plans changed the week of Dec. 16 when it became necessary for mom to go to the care center sooner than planned. I was in Phoenix but spent time on the phone making arrangements and figuring things out long distance. I arrived home on the 18th and stayed with mom that day and night. Jan came after work and we told mom about the need to go live in a care center. We thought mom would fight it but Jan did a beautiful job of leading up to why it was necessary and mom bought into it. We were astonished and thankful.
The date for mom to move in was Dec. 19, the next day. Working from a list from the care center I pulled items from all over mom's house to label and pack. My dear friend Jera Parker came as did Amy and Wolf. Melanie came and sat with mom while we worked to get things labeled and organized. There was a wonderful, happy spirit of togetherness in the house. It felt good. I know we were being blessed, guided and comforted that day as we made preparations to make the biggest change of my mom's life. Jera ran to WalMart for needed items and bought lunch for all of us. Tam and Tofaea packed and moved some of their things. Mom happily held baby June and baby Wolf. She was pampered all day by all of us.
Riley and Paul Ashton came for the big items - the dresser from Paris, mom's bed, big chair, nightstand and other heavy items. They loaded them on Paul's trailer and hauled it all into mom's room - #53. Jera and I followed in our cars with mom and the rest of her things. Mom was calm and seemingly happy. She'd taught us all her life to be a good actress. I think she was doing just that.
It felt a little strange to decide what mom would need at the care center. This wasn't just a visit. This was where she would probably spend the rest of her life. She had spent 53 years in her home on 200 South and now we were deciding what small accumulation of things would make up the last days, weeks or months of her life. Many of the things we took were for us - pictures of family, a pink flamingo, a cookie jar. I knew she couldn't see any of it but they would, at least, be conversation starters for visitors, and would make us feel at home. We took her favorite clothes and blankets, her hot pad, used every day, all day, lamps, her exercise pedals, Mr. Saver (oxygen), and other items.
For several hours we unpacked and placed things around the room. We started learning the routine of Our House. We'd learn later that the staff was short handed - it was Christmas and staff were gone. Since we had to rush getting mom admitted there were no medical orders. I wrote many notes explaining how to take care of her and posted them everywhere. Mom was calm that day so I thought we were off to a good start. Not so.
I was exhausted and didn't get down to see mom as quickly as I had wanted to on Saturday the 20th. I called Amy and asked if she would go check on "Gma" since Amy lives just four blocks away, which is a huge blessing! She called me in tears a bit later and asked me to please hurry, gramma was very upset. I drove quickly and saw my mom in a state I've never seen her in - agitated, angry, flailing, yelling - for a solid two hours. She wailed:
~I can't believe you'd do this to me.
~I can't live here; I want to go home right now.
~I'll never forgive you for this.
~How would you feel if someone did this to you?
~You've taken away my life, you've thrown me out of my home.
~I'm in the middle of nowhere; no one knows where I am.
~I might as well be dead.
David and Jera Parker had come to visit and I shooed them out. I was in tears. Then I called them and asked them to find Riley so he and Dave could give mom a blessing. They did a while later and she seemed to calm down. But for the next four weeks it was a roller coaster of those emotions and those statements along with her genuine love for us and a willingness to try. Dementia and Sundowners affect the mind - they bring clouds and curtains of sadness, confusion, doubt and anger. There are times when mom is a babbling, incoherent mess. When we are lucky our old mom comes out to play. We've had ups and downs within minutes and within the course of a day. We've had the good, happy mom for several days in a row. There is no rhyme or reason. We never know which mom we will get. But we love her no matter what.
Mom has learned a new normal. She has dug her heels in at times, saying "I can't ..." but she has learned. She can use the call button she wears to call an aide. She will exercise with her pedals. She now drinks more - a huge help to having cognitive ability. And she loves to sing! We've sung many old-time songs and she now entertains people in the dining room with her songs. She is now the darling of Our House, as we knew she would be. She can't see her new friends and doesn't know their names. But she is grateful - she tells me she makes sure she tells people "thank you" for helping her.
My sister and I see her nearly every day. Sometimes mom doesn't remember we were there and asks why we never come. I guess we could skip going since she doesn't remember but I go because it makes her happy in the moment. And it gives me comfort that my mom is still here, whichever version of mom that is.
It's been eight weeks since mom went to live at Our House. I visit our house, the house in Springville I grew up in and I have to push away the sadness as I wander the rooms. I know we will dismantle that house, the trinkets and memories, probably soon. We cannot pay the bills of her new life without selling the home of her old. That hurts my heart. I don't have memories of another home with my parents and siblings. While I lived away from Utah for 11 years of my 54 on earth, that house is where we came home to for visits. Opening the front door, from the days of my youth to my adult years, I always knew my mom would be there, waiting with a hug and a smile and a welcome home. I know Heavenly Father has a plan for my mom and wherever she lives, I will visit and I will love her.
Wednesday, February 11, 2015
Catching up on life
I haven't written a blog for almost a year. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's being too busy. Maybe it's just that I'm facing some hard things right now. Whatever the reason, I shouldn't neglect getting feelings down on paper. Or screen. I do write in a journal every day so it's not like I'm not listing life's events. But it's cathartic to write for a blog, even if very few people see my words.
The year 2014 was remarkable for several reasons - two are named Wolfgang Winston and Astrid Josephine, our newest grand babies. The joy that our three little people, including my birthday grand baby Artemis Valborg, bring to our family is immeasurable! If I could do nothing but hold, rock, sing to, read to, play with and snuggle these three wee folks, I'd be content. I'm blessed to have WW in town (most of the time) so I get to see him a lot. I have way better upper body strength these days from hefting this guy around - 30 pounds at 8 months old!! But what a sweetheart. And I've been blessed to be able to fly to Phoenix pretty often (not as often as I'd like) to see the girls. Life is good and Heavenly Father has richly blessed our family with happy, healthy, adorable (I'm not partial) babies.
It was a crazy time at the end of May and through the month of June! Amy and Todd decided to move from my mom's small studio apartment to a bigger one in Provo, anticipating the birth of Wolfie. Another set of renters also decided to move. When I looked at the condition of both apartments I saw the daunting task of how much work needed to be done before they could be rented. I didn't have Riley to help as he was teaching his spring course away from town for six weeks. I really didn't have Amy, at least for a week or so, since she was giving birth and learning how to be a new mom! So I launched into the renovations myself and asked Tam Ah Sha (one of mom's new caregivers) to help rebuild many things in those apartments. He had a friend from Tahiti who helped, as well as his friend's wife. It would take too long to list what was done in both apartments but after 100 hours of my time and time from family and friends, they were ready to rent. I thought of my dad often as I worked on things he originally built. There were times I was completely exhausted, highly frustrated, in tears and in pain but I knew my dad would have been proud of me for doing the things he or Riley taught me to do or I figured out by myself. Brett and Kelly each flew in from out of state and did some of the things I wasn't comfortable doing - like plumbing and electricity. Brett and I used a jackhammer for the first time in our lives! We chipped out the cement floor of the shower we had to tear out. It was cathartic for me to use a hammer to rip out all the sheet rock in that thing but it was also tiring! I had to hire two men to rework the plumbing in the downstairs shower and then to tile it and the bathroom floor. My good friend Jera made and hung curtains, stained wood, painted walls and cleaned. Amy cleaned and hammered, finished trim and did other things, all with a week-old baby strapped in a carrier! Jan helped clean kitchen cupboards, drawers and doors. It was a huge much-needed effort and one I was trying to accomplish quickly so we wouldn't lose too much rent. They each rented easily by the first of July. Prayers were answered.
In June of 2014 I was hired as a freelance web writer and editor for Heritage School. It has been a joy to be a part of campus life where teens are getting help to change their lives for the better. My "other" son Ben Parker suggested me as a journalist/editor when they were looking to hire and it's been a great fit for all of us. I wrote all they asked me to and they continue to send projects my way including blog posts and bios to edit and writing articles about events. I can work in my jammies in the middle of the night if I want! But I love visiting campus and interviewing people there so I make sure I visit often.
Riley and I had a wonderful experience in Germany and Austria last summer. We flew to Munich and spent several days in the Bavaria region, climbing and picnicking in the Alps (after some pretty cool tram rides), seeing castles and lakes and eating delicious food. We ventured into Austria twice but traffic kept us from visiting Innsbruck so we just saw the back roads sites of mountains and lakes. We also visited Dachau, a concentration camp north of Munich. It's sobering and puzzling how evil people have power over others on this earth. Made me sad but the place has a beautiful spirit now as if all the evil has been driven away and the spirits of those who died there are exuding peace.
We drove north and stayed in Rothenburg for the night by sheer luck (and a quick, heartfelt prayer) since our room had been given away. In Europe it doesn't mean the same thing as in the U.S. when your itinerary says, "Guaranteed Late Arrival." Some sweet women helped us find a hotel near the one that shut us out. We missed the Night Watchman tour but wandered the quaint little village and climbed the wall the next morning. It's one of the last walled cities in Europe. We headed north to Schlitz and stayed with a colleague of Riley's - Peter and his wife Heida Zwick. It's always a pleasure to stay with locals in a foreign country. I love to see how people live, shop and what their houses are like. I also love to ask questions about holidays, traditions, favorite hobbies, etc. It makes it more meaningful to go a country when you can live, at least for a short time, with natives. Peter and Heida were wonderful, happy hosts.
We traveled the first week in a rental car on back roads and the Autobahn. I love the Autobahn! People actually respect others on this roadway. If you are slower than other drivers, you drive in the right lane. If you want to pass, you pass but quickly get back over to the right because a Ferrrari or Porsche might be bearing down on you at 180 km! I loved that driving is on the RIGHT side of the road, not the left - way better than England!!
We continued to Freiberg and visited the LDS temple. From the beginning we had asked various people for directions and info and they all spoke English well enough to tell us. When we got to Freiberg we couldn't easily find the temple. We pulled into a parking lot and asked a man if he knew where the Mormon kirsche (church) was, making steeple hand motions. He didn't speak English and tried to motion where to go, then motioned for us to follow him. We did and he drove us across town and pointed to the temple and the spire with Moroni on it. We waved and motioned a thank you to him. I wonder if this small interaction will spur him to wonder about that "kirsche" and why we were so determined to find it. Maybe we've been missionaries in a very small way. I hope so!
Our evening was to be spent in Dresden but we decided we had enough time to go into the Czech Republic. We crossed the border and stopped in a small town and got out for a few pictures. Riley is never really nervous about anything but he didn't like being there so we left fairly quickly. So we can say we've been in the CR but we really only dipped a toenail in.
On the way back to Dresden we saw the Konigstein fortress and drove around to look at it. We didn't go in but made the decision to go there the next morning - it was not highly touted in travel materials (Rick Steve's book doesn't even list it) but it turned out to be one of our favorite places! We spent a good part of a day there, wandering the castle rooms and the outer edge of the wall and gardens. Riley water colored while I read a book. We sat on a grassy hill overlooking the river Elbe. We ate snacks and relaxed. In fact, we relaxed a lot on this trip. We've traveled a lot the past 15 years and we have generally packed each day with so many things to see and do that we are exhausted at the end of each day. This was a lovely trip because we chose not to do that. We skipped some things on our itinerary and spent longer time at others - a nice change from a hurried pace!
We ventured north to Berlin, making a brief solemn visit to the Berlin Wall, or remnants of the wall. There's a lot to see in Berlin but this was really all either of us wanted to see. There is something about seeing a structure that first embodied evil then, over time, switched to a symbol of perseverance and freedom. We each touched the wall to feel the cool cement and imagine the stories of those who died trying to cross it. It was a wonderful day in 1989 when the wall finally began to come down, reuniting family and friends who had been unjustly separated for many years.
We stayed in a hotel in Berlin and ate at a Spanish restaurant next door. Another thing that is different about European restaurants as opposed to U.S. ones is there is no rush in a European (or South American or Tahitian or Taiwanese ...) restaurant. You "buy" your table for the evening. If you're in a hurry, tough luck. It took about three hours for us to order and finally eat a nice pan of paella.
Driving west to Potsdam we dropped our car off at the rental company then figured out how to take the tram to church. It was Sunday morning and we wanted to attend sacrament meeting. We made it just as the sacrament was finished but we could feel the spirit of this wonderful little branch. And they invited us to stay for a potluck lunch, which they have once a month and we lucked (or were blessed) into. No buying groceries on Sunday! We found our hotel across town and settled in for five days. It was a huge hotel but with tiny rooms, tiny beds and very little air. We did fine though. Riley attended his Dipterist Congress meetings and I wandered town with some of the wives and by myself. Jan Fisher (about 70 years old) and I logged about 17,000 steps one day on a trip around the town and parks. Riley joined me one day for a look at some palaces. While they are nice, we just aren't all that enthusiastic about palaces or the trappings! We'd rather wander trails and parks.
We had one more visit in Berlin near the end of our stay to the Natural History museum. Riley was excited to see the "Berlin Specimen" - the most famous fossil in the world. He took many pictures. We flew to Munich the next day and spent a night in a hotel near the airport, too far out and too costly to go into town to sightsee. We took a long walk and found a nice Italian restaurant and had a lovely dinner. We had eaten many kinds of food and I had said earlier I wanted to eat Italian food in Germany! It was the only restaurant around for miles! I love traveling, exploring and making new memories with my sweetheart.
I got home from Europe, lived at my mom's for a week while the caregivers were away, then packed and flew to Arizona, arriving just an hour after Astrid was born! I love spending time with my kids, helping when a new baby has arrived.
I'm glad we haven't let worries stop us from traveling. My mom has been in poor health for more than six years now. If we had thought she might die every time we were planning a trip and canceled plans, we would have missed out on so much! And I know she wouldn't have wanted us to miss seeing the world either. We had hired a seventh set of caregivers in May of 2014 and mom was settling in with them. They were from Tahiti - Tam and Tofea Ah Sha. Tofaea was pregnant and while we'd only had one other couple with a baby in mom's house, we hired them and they had a darling baby girl in June. They were happy, sweet, helpful and attentive. They had fun with mom and made her laugh. And Tam was a wonderful chef - it was always a bonus when anyone wandered in during a mealtime!
And since this is so long already, I'll write about November and December's events in a different blog post. (And I should include some photos too!)
The one thing I have to maintain about life is that there is more good than bad. Heavenly Father is mindful of each of us and is helping us through even the most difficult trials. And I love that He is.
The year 2014 was remarkable for several reasons - two are named Wolfgang Winston and Astrid Josephine, our newest grand babies. The joy that our three little people, including my birthday grand baby Artemis Valborg, bring to our family is immeasurable! If I could do nothing but hold, rock, sing to, read to, play with and snuggle these three wee folks, I'd be content. I'm blessed to have WW in town (most of the time) so I get to see him a lot. I have way better upper body strength these days from hefting this guy around - 30 pounds at 8 months old!! But what a sweetheart. And I've been blessed to be able to fly to Phoenix pretty often (not as often as I'd like) to see the girls. Life is good and Heavenly Father has richly blessed our family with happy, healthy, adorable (I'm not partial) babies.
It was a crazy time at the end of May and through the month of June! Amy and Todd decided to move from my mom's small studio apartment to a bigger one in Provo, anticipating the birth of Wolfie. Another set of renters also decided to move. When I looked at the condition of both apartments I saw the daunting task of how much work needed to be done before they could be rented. I didn't have Riley to help as he was teaching his spring course away from town for six weeks. I really didn't have Amy, at least for a week or so, since she was giving birth and learning how to be a new mom! So I launched into the renovations myself and asked Tam Ah Sha (one of mom's new caregivers) to help rebuild many things in those apartments. He had a friend from Tahiti who helped, as well as his friend's wife. It would take too long to list what was done in both apartments but after 100 hours of my time and time from family and friends, they were ready to rent. I thought of my dad often as I worked on things he originally built. There were times I was completely exhausted, highly frustrated, in tears and in pain but I knew my dad would have been proud of me for doing the things he or Riley taught me to do or I figured out by myself. Brett and Kelly each flew in from out of state and did some of the things I wasn't comfortable doing - like plumbing and electricity. Brett and I used a jackhammer for the first time in our lives! We chipped out the cement floor of the shower we had to tear out. It was cathartic for me to use a hammer to rip out all the sheet rock in that thing but it was also tiring! I had to hire two men to rework the plumbing in the downstairs shower and then to tile it and the bathroom floor. My good friend Jera made and hung curtains, stained wood, painted walls and cleaned. Amy cleaned and hammered, finished trim and did other things, all with a week-old baby strapped in a carrier! Jan helped clean kitchen cupboards, drawers and doors. It was a huge much-needed effort and one I was trying to accomplish quickly so we wouldn't lose too much rent. They each rented easily by the first of July. Prayers were answered.
In June of 2014 I was hired as a freelance web writer and editor for Heritage School. It has been a joy to be a part of campus life where teens are getting help to change their lives for the better. My "other" son Ben Parker suggested me as a journalist/editor when they were looking to hire and it's been a great fit for all of us. I wrote all they asked me to and they continue to send projects my way including blog posts and bios to edit and writing articles about events. I can work in my jammies in the middle of the night if I want! But I love visiting campus and interviewing people there so I make sure I visit often.
Riley and I had a wonderful experience in Germany and Austria last summer. We flew to Munich and spent several days in the Bavaria region, climbing and picnicking in the Alps (after some pretty cool tram rides), seeing castles and lakes and eating delicious food. We ventured into Austria twice but traffic kept us from visiting Innsbruck so we just saw the back roads sites of mountains and lakes. We also visited Dachau, a concentration camp north of Munich. It's sobering and puzzling how evil people have power over others on this earth. Made me sad but the place has a beautiful spirit now as if all the evil has been driven away and the spirits of those who died there are exuding peace.
We drove north and stayed in Rothenburg for the night by sheer luck (and a quick, heartfelt prayer) since our room had been given away. In Europe it doesn't mean the same thing as in the U.S. when your itinerary says, "Guaranteed Late Arrival." Some sweet women helped us find a hotel near the one that shut us out. We missed the Night Watchman tour but wandered the quaint little village and climbed the wall the next morning. It's one of the last walled cities in Europe. We headed north to Schlitz and stayed with a colleague of Riley's - Peter and his wife Heida Zwick. It's always a pleasure to stay with locals in a foreign country. I love to see how people live, shop and what their houses are like. I also love to ask questions about holidays, traditions, favorite hobbies, etc. It makes it more meaningful to go a country when you can live, at least for a short time, with natives. Peter and Heida were wonderful, happy hosts.
We traveled the first week in a rental car on back roads and the Autobahn. I love the Autobahn! People actually respect others on this roadway. If you are slower than other drivers, you drive in the right lane. If you want to pass, you pass but quickly get back over to the right because a Ferrrari or Porsche might be bearing down on you at 180 km! I loved that driving is on the RIGHT side of the road, not the left - way better than England!!
We continued to Freiberg and visited the LDS temple. From the beginning we had asked various people for directions and info and they all spoke English well enough to tell us. When we got to Freiberg we couldn't easily find the temple. We pulled into a parking lot and asked a man if he knew where the Mormon kirsche (church) was, making steeple hand motions. He didn't speak English and tried to motion where to go, then motioned for us to follow him. We did and he drove us across town and pointed to the temple and the spire with Moroni on it. We waved and motioned a thank you to him. I wonder if this small interaction will spur him to wonder about that "kirsche" and why we were so determined to find it. Maybe we've been missionaries in a very small way. I hope so!
Our evening was to be spent in Dresden but we decided we had enough time to go into the Czech Republic. We crossed the border and stopped in a small town and got out for a few pictures. Riley is never really nervous about anything but he didn't like being there so we left fairly quickly. So we can say we've been in the CR but we really only dipped a toenail in.
On the way back to Dresden we saw the Konigstein fortress and drove around to look at it. We didn't go in but made the decision to go there the next morning - it was not highly touted in travel materials (Rick Steve's book doesn't even list it) but it turned out to be one of our favorite places! We spent a good part of a day there, wandering the castle rooms and the outer edge of the wall and gardens. Riley water colored while I read a book. We sat on a grassy hill overlooking the river Elbe. We ate snacks and relaxed. In fact, we relaxed a lot on this trip. We've traveled a lot the past 15 years and we have generally packed each day with so many things to see and do that we are exhausted at the end of each day. This was a lovely trip because we chose not to do that. We skipped some things on our itinerary and spent longer time at others - a nice change from a hurried pace!
We ventured north to Berlin, making a brief solemn visit to the Berlin Wall, or remnants of the wall. There's a lot to see in Berlin but this was really all either of us wanted to see. There is something about seeing a structure that first embodied evil then, over time, switched to a symbol of perseverance and freedom. We each touched the wall to feel the cool cement and imagine the stories of those who died trying to cross it. It was a wonderful day in 1989 when the wall finally began to come down, reuniting family and friends who had been unjustly separated for many years.
We stayed in a hotel in Berlin and ate at a Spanish restaurant next door. Another thing that is different about European restaurants as opposed to U.S. ones is there is no rush in a European (or South American or Tahitian or Taiwanese ...) restaurant. You "buy" your table for the evening. If you're in a hurry, tough luck. It took about three hours for us to order and finally eat a nice pan of paella.
Driving west to Potsdam we dropped our car off at the rental company then figured out how to take the tram to church. It was Sunday morning and we wanted to attend sacrament meeting. We made it just as the sacrament was finished but we could feel the spirit of this wonderful little branch. And they invited us to stay for a potluck lunch, which they have once a month and we lucked (or were blessed) into. No buying groceries on Sunday! We found our hotel across town and settled in for five days. It was a huge hotel but with tiny rooms, tiny beds and very little air. We did fine though. Riley attended his Dipterist Congress meetings and I wandered town with some of the wives and by myself. Jan Fisher (about 70 years old) and I logged about 17,000 steps one day on a trip around the town and parks. Riley joined me one day for a look at some palaces. While they are nice, we just aren't all that enthusiastic about palaces or the trappings! We'd rather wander trails and parks.
We had one more visit in Berlin near the end of our stay to the Natural History museum. Riley was excited to see the "Berlin Specimen" - the most famous fossil in the world. He took many pictures. We flew to Munich the next day and spent a night in a hotel near the airport, too far out and too costly to go into town to sightsee. We took a long walk and found a nice Italian restaurant and had a lovely dinner. We had eaten many kinds of food and I had said earlier I wanted to eat Italian food in Germany! It was the only restaurant around for miles! I love traveling, exploring and making new memories with my sweetheart.
I got home from Europe, lived at my mom's for a week while the caregivers were away, then packed and flew to Arizona, arriving just an hour after Astrid was born! I love spending time with my kids, helping when a new baby has arrived.
I'm glad we haven't let worries stop us from traveling. My mom has been in poor health for more than six years now. If we had thought she might die every time we were planning a trip and canceled plans, we would have missed out on so much! And I know she wouldn't have wanted us to miss seeing the world either. We had hired a seventh set of caregivers in May of 2014 and mom was settling in with them. They were from Tahiti - Tam and Tofea Ah Sha. Tofaea was pregnant and while we'd only had one other couple with a baby in mom's house, we hired them and they had a darling baby girl in June. They were happy, sweet, helpful and attentive. They had fun with mom and made her laugh. And Tam was a wonderful chef - it was always a bonus when anyone wandered in during a mealtime!
And since this is so long already, I'll write about November and December's events in a different blog post. (And I should include some photos too!)
The one thing I have to maintain about life is that there is more good than bad. Heavenly Father is mindful of each of us and is helping us through even the most difficult trials. And I love that He is.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
