I have had a whirl-wind couple of weeks. My Mom passed away very early on a Tuesday morning. Wednesday I had a telephone interview. Thursday morning I flew to San Jose for another job interview. Friday I flew back to Arizona and was joined by my husband, my son and my younger brother. Saturday was the memorial service. Monday was my youngest's 21st birthday. The boys left on Wednesday. and 10 days later, with the car packed to the brim, I headed for home - with a stop for a flurry of interviews in Nebraska on my way home. I made it, but it was the journey itself that I want to write about today.
I realize now that I felt very trapped by the situation in Tucson. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that my Mom would hang on for 8 months after my Dad passed. I remember saying at the time, "I'll just rent a house for a couple of months", feeling sure that she wouldn't stay with us even that long. Even though we had a spectacular view of the mountains, and wildlife abounded in our back yard, I felt trapped. Life was out there - beyond my reach. I was in wait-mode, and I hate waiting. It is such an effect point in life. The only thing I could cause, was to keep Mom comfortable and somewhat entertained. I had begun to feel like I would never get my participation in life back. A sort of numbness enshrouded me as I waited, unwilling and perhaps unable to feel anything.
As I started out on my cross-country drive I wondered, "I should be excited... why don't I feel that flutter of excitement in the adventure of this?" I tried to create it, but - nothing. Equipped with a route print-out from google maps, and the Garmin that Danny had lent me, I climbed onto the freeway and started out with the same kind of numbness surrounding me. The first day I crossed Arizona and drove into New Mexico, stopping in the tiny town of Hatch to pick up some of their famous peppers to bring home. The Rio Grand runs through Hatch, but it was a pitiful excuse for a river - more like a stream - cloaked in small trees and fields where they grow all kinds of peppers. I stopped at one of the many road-side stands where three women were stringing peppers with deft fingers into all kinds of beautiful arrangements. I bought a variety of traditional strings from the young Hispanic man, loaded them into my back seat, atop the blanket covering the load of artwork from my Mom's, and got back on the highway.
Still, no excitement. After stopping in Santa Fe the first night, I made it all the way to Goodland Kansas the second day. Only once that day did I feel anything - and that was somewhere in Colorado when off in the distance I saw a couple of towering mountains, and my heart lept for just a moment. It was harvest time and there was a steady stream of trucks on the road outside my hotel, dumping their loads into mountains of golden corn to be shipped to God knows where at the nearby train depot.
I then stopped in Kearney Nebraska for a few days which were laden with interviews, presentations and tours. Everyone there was nice. They were beyond nice, they were kind, and funny, and smart, and lovely people. The job itself sounded like a challenge, but I felt that it would be a lot of fun. Of course, they were bringing two other candidates to the campus to interview, so there was no point in getting my hopes up, but I felt very comfortable there. Comfortable, but still nothing beyond that.
I set out on Saturday morning for the toughest part of the drive, across Nebraska and Iowa. Long and flat and straight for most of Nebraska, I wasn't sure the car needed me to do anything except navigate around all the trucks. I was listening to a book on CD, and if it weren't for the story, I am pretty sure I would have fallen asleep! Then somewhere in Western Iowa the ground began rolling, and as I came up over a hill, flanking both sides of the freeway, there were dozens of huge wind turbines. Again I felt my heart start to race as I tried to keep the car in my lane and see both sides of the road at the same time. They rose like giant trees, whose leaves were blowing in unison on either side of me. They were graceful and lovely. But as soon as they receded in my rear view mirrors, the numbness settled around me again.
After spending the night in a hotel along the Mississippi River, I began my final leg of the journey. It was raining. I crossed Illinois and drove out of the storm. With partly cloudy skies I skirted Chicago and then along the lake shore of Indiana. And then I saw it. A big blue sign hung across the road far ahead of me, "Welcome to Michigan" I knew it said, and I started to cry. Tears were pouring down my cheeks as I drove beneath it, and I realized that I had really thought I would never get home. The sun was shining brightly as I passed beautiful multi-colored forests, and crossed rivers that had actual water flowing in them. There was an urgency in my heart as I thought, "I am almost there!" Most of the state passed my windows in a kind of blur, as I saw familiar signs for familiar places and my heart sped up once again. It was all I could do to keep my vision clear enough to drive as I neared home, fighting the tears that kept threatening to flood my view. As I turned the corner onto my very own street, I couldn't hold them back any longer, and by the time I pulled into my driveway, I was sobbing. I had made it. I was finally home, and life could start again.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Long time - no post
I am not really sure where to start, it has been so long since I posted anything! This has been partly due to the circumstances here with the care-giving of my Mom during her last months. It isn't that I haven't had an abundance of time on my hands - because I have. It isn't because I haven't had an abundance of things that I have wanted to say - because I have. I guess it has been because I have spent the past few months watching and doing my best to help my Mom let go of this life and get ready for her next adventure, and it has not been a lot of fun.
When I started this blog I imagined lots of amusing little tales about life in general, but more specifically about those things we all experience at one time or another. And believe me when I tell you that there is very little that is amusing about the end of life process. So I have been hesitant to write about it. And it is not for lack of trying - I have started several blogs about my experiences here - but I just haven't been able to bring myself to posting any of it. I guess maybe that was because I didn't know how this chapter of my life would end. And now I do.
I gave birth to my two boys at home naturally - no drugs, no intervention, no internal fetal heart monitors - in my own bed with my loved ones surrounding me. That is the way I chose to do it. So I wanted to give my Mom the opportunity to have that kind of control over the end of her life. Although I must say, in hindsight that there is very little one actually controls about the end of life. So it becomes the responsibility of the care-giver to try to honor the wishes of the dying person as best they can. And it is not an easy task. I have done things in the last few months that I never thought I would have to do. The parent became the child, and the child became the parent. I have often thought about the parallels between the beginning of life and the end.
I think the end starts with loosing the ability to drive. When most Americans turn 16, they get their drivers license and with it comes all kinds of freedoms. When they age, eventually they loose the ability to drive safely, and with their license goes a lot of their freedoms. As ones health fails, they then loose their personal mobility, the ability to get up and go where they want, when they want. This is followed by loosing the ability to care for themselves, so they need help feeding themselves, going to the bathroom, showering, standing, sitting, and so on. The parent becomes the child and the child becomes the parent.
Let me say that my Mom went peacefully, in her sleep, and that I think her final days were as good as could be expected considering the amounts of drugs that were necessary to keep her from being in pain. She was in a space that I had created for her, where she could watch the humming birds and the sun rise and set on her beloved Catalina Mountains. I am grateful for that. We had a lovely little service for her at Southside, which I think she would have liked, followed by an ice cream sundae bar - which I know for sure she would have liked. She went to be with my Dad so I know she is happy now, no longer in pain and ready for the next adventure.
Which leaves me here, in Tucson, wrapping up all the lose ends, and facing an unknown future, once again. Many people have thanked me for what I have done these past few months. And while it may appear that I am some kind of good Samaritan or something, I have told them bluntly, "Do not kid yourself, I have done this in the hopes that when my time comes, someone will look after me. Karma." She would have liked that.
When I started this blog I imagined lots of amusing little tales about life in general, but more specifically about those things we all experience at one time or another. And believe me when I tell you that there is very little that is amusing about the end of life process. So I have been hesitant to write about it. And it is not for lack of trying - I have started several blogs about my experiences here - but I just haven't been able to bring myself to posting any of it. I guess maybe that was because I didn't know how this chapter of my life would end. And now I do.
I gave birth to my two boys at home naturally - no drugs, no intervention, no internal fetal heart monitors - in my own bed with my loved ones surrounding me. That is the way I chose to do it. So I wanted to give my Mom the opportunity to have that kind of control over the end of her life. Although I must say, in hindsight that there is very little one actually controls about the end of life. So it becomes the responsibility of the care-giver to try to honor the wishes of the dying person as best they can. And it is not an easy task. I have done things in the last few months that I never thought I would have to do. The parent became the child, and the child became the parent. I have often thought about the parallels between the beginning of life and the end.
I think the end starts with loosing the ability to drive. When most Americans turn 16, they get their drivers license and with it comes all kinds of freedoms. When they age, eventually they loose the ability to drive safely, and with their license goes a lot of their freedoms. As ones health fails, they then loose their personal mobility, the ability to get up and go where they want, when they want. This is followed by loosing the ability to care for themselves, so they need help feeding themselves, going to the bathroom, showering, standing, sitting, and so on. The parent becomes the child and the child becomes the parent.
Let me say that my Mom went peacefully, in her sleep, and that I think her final days were as good as could be expected considering the amounts of drugs that were necessary to keep her from being in pain. She was in a space that I had created for her, where she could watch the humming birds and the sun rise and set on her beloved Catalina Mountains. I am grateful for that. We had a lovely little service for her at Southside, which I think she would have liked, followed by an ice cream sundae bar - which I know for sure she would have liked. She went to be with my Dad so I know she is happy now, no longer in pain and ready for the next adventure.
Which leaves me here, in Tucson, wrapping up all the lose ends, and facing an unknown future, once again. Many people have thanked me for what I have done these past few months. And while it may appear that I am some kind of good Samaritan or something, I have told them bluntly, "Do not kid yourself, I have done this in the hopes that when my time comes, someone will look after me. Karma." She would have liked that.
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