A MONTH OUT

My mother has been dead for a month now. The days have been strange. I have done really well maintaining my composure in most instances. I learned well from Mama, we were always private mourners.

It is hitting home with me all the things I have lost. My mother was rarely critical of me, she should have been but she wasn't. She was proud of everything I did, everything I read or wrote, my opinions. Of course, our opinions were the same. I've lost being able to put my feet in her lap for them to be tickled or leaning my seat back in the truck for her to scratch my head. We had a kind of language, facial expressions, body language that all made communicating a private affair. She would drop everything to go on a road trip, we were lost most of the time, but it didn't matter.

Even though my family likes me, it's conditional. With my mother, it wasn't.

CHANGES

I've been thinking about the changes for me since mama died. The one that seems to giving me the most worry is that I won't ever have an unconditional relationship again. Mama liked me no matter what and no matter what I did, it didn't change anything for her concerning me. I get on everybody else's nerves, a lot of people disapprove of me in one way or another. I always knew that she would be fine with whatever I did, even if it was stupid. That's a big thing to lose.

CRASHING

I've been crashing in the oddest places. I am very good in the art of self control. I can usually put forth the attitude I intend for others to see but not always. Elizabeth and I stopped to eat at Waffle House on Monday. I had gotten a copy of the eulogy from Bob and took it in with me. I started to read it and had a total melt down, yes, right there in Waffle House.

More than once, I've been suddenly sad, driving down the road, for no particular reason, just sad. Once or twice, a smell has made me sad, and sounds.

My mother was in our house with us for a long time. Right after she died, I caught myself going in the book room to check on her or looking around the corner from the kitchen to see if she was ok in her chair. But already, I'm beginning to think of calling her at her house or running down to see her. Some mornings, it crosses my mind to call and just before I go to bed, I think of it. The last days of her life are the most removed from my memory. Not that I've forgotten or want to forget, I just remember earlier times with more urgency.

There are kittens in our basement, 4 of them. There were 6, but 2 went to Kitty Heaven. I had to cut one of the dead ones away from the live ones. Their cords were all dried together. Don't ask, it was strange. The 4 remaining ones are healthy and fat. And quite relieved, I'm sure.

TWO WEEKS

It's been two weeks since my mother died. Time is a strange thing, confusing and misleading. Time makes you think all is well or nothing will ever be well again.Time throws everything off. It zips right along just as if nothing has happened.

I knew my mother would die. She told us so just a few days earlier. But the main thing that told me she was thinking about dying was the way she started to bend her arm at the elbow and put it under her head. This was a clear sign.

I have never liked burials, especially leaving the casket sitting above ground while everybody leaves to go home. So I decided to do it differently. After the funeral we went to the cemetery, took our places and Bob read a short scripture with a prayer. The casket was then lowered into the ground, not a vault, but the dirt. I took a shovel, filled it, and threw the dirt into the open grave. The sound of the dirt hitting the casket was unlike anything I had ever heard before. The shovel was then passed to the rest of the family and anyone else who wanted to participate. Then the tent, chairs, fake grass were all removed and the gravediggers filled the grave and smoothed the dirt as best they could. We all went home.

It was a healing thing to me to stay until the burial was complete. I felt like I had finished taking care of my mother.

Now that two weeks have passed, I find it difficult to express my feelings. My mother and I were much alike, we mourn privately. I don't like for anyone to see me cry and go to great lengths to see that they don't. So most of my sadness has been by myself. My mother would have understood that.

AFTERWORDS

Since my mother's death, I have been with my Cousin Jane, which has helped me in so many ways. She will go home tomorrow, Janie will take her to meet Emily. I'm going to miss her.

Elizabeth is here for spring break, Olivia here tonight and she will probably be in and out later in the week. We all went to bed earlier, each one reading our own book. I love to read with them. Then we turned out the lights and I told them a story. They were soon asleep. But I had to get up to take my medicine. Now I can't sleep.


Olivia has been sad missing Mama. It is hard for her to understand. She spent a lot of time with her and now she has a lot of sadness.


Not many days before Mama died, she told us it was going to happen. It may have been the last time she was in her chair in the living room. She made a lot of jokes about dying but she wasn't joking this time. She was right.

More and more I'm wondering how it happened that I wasn't with her when she died. It was the first night in months that we had been gone. It was so important for Leah to have us at her recital. I've had several people tell me Mama waited for me to be gone before she died. But then I wonder if she died because she thought I wasn't coming back. But the important thing, she died with people who loved her and cared for her every need.

I think Mama had the perfect eulogy. Bob talked about all the things that were important, books, reading, family.He's sending me a copy, I'm anxious to read it.

Tomorrow I'm planning to blog about the cemetery.

THE PROCESS

I've started to write about my mother several times but haven't been able to until now. The process of the funeral and aftermath have somewhat consumed me. Bit I'm beginning to exhale a bit more.

After being with my mother most of the time during the last year and more, I wasn't with her when she died. The Cosmic Possum told me she waited until I was out of the house so I wouldn't have to experience her death. She could well be right. My mother was always sparing me if she could, making things easier for me, cushioning the blow.

We were in Georgetown for Leah's dance recital, which is exactly where Mama would have wanted us to be. It was important to Leah for us to be there and so we were. I will never regret seeing her dance.

Joe and Judy were here with Mama. Throughout Mama's time here, they had offered countless times to come and stay with her. This was the first time I had accepted. I left Mama with them with complete ease, I knew she would be well cared for. And she was.

I have to stop now but will continue in another post.

MAMA

Well, my mama died yesterday morning. She lived a good, long life. I hope I don't live as long as she did. Old age is tough.

I'll be writing about this experience after the house is quiet.

VISITORS

Yesterday, my Uncle Joe, Aunt Jeane, 2 cousins, Jeanne and John came to visit Mama. Joe is my mother's brother and is about 3 years younger than her. He is up and about but is failing. I was worried about him seeing Mama, since she looks bad and is in bed most of the time. She started the day in a bad way, she was confused and oppositional but later, after a bath, she settled and was excited they were here and sat up and talked to them. She was really glad they came and commented on it later in the day. I'm always glad when they are able to spend a little time together.

Then in the night Mama was congested and coughed a lot. She slept mostly but was restless. She has also slept a lot today but seems to be alert, even with all the medicine. John Michael and Olivia came up and she likes that.

I took my computer to be repaired today and it is ready to be picked up, Hubby is getting it tomorrow. I'll be glad to have it back.

I'm reading NEW YORK by Edward Rutherfurd. It drags in places but the story is good. I'm plugging along with it. I like reading a book that pulls me back.

STRESSFUL THINGS

It stresses me to have to give Mama so much medicine. But I can't let her be in pain. She is also suffering from so much anxiety. But no wonder. Everything about her is changing. She is in pain, she can't move around or do anything for herself. It all goes against the way she has always been. She has been the one to do for everybody else and it is still her instinct. She worries about us, that we will be put out by her, that we can't talk without her in the room, things like that. None of it is true but it is hard for her.

Olivia will soon be here and that will be good for Mama, even if briefly. Any of the children make her happy.

Next weekend we will be able to see all of the girls. Leah has a dance recital and we are going. Joe and Judy are coming to stay with Mama. I am so thankful they will be able to stay with her. We can't leave her with just one person anymore. Or I feel like I can't.

In the midst of caring for Mama I find I am able to write. Even if it is snippets, words are getting on paper and the computer screen. Writing and art have saved me.

WHAT DEWEY HAD TO SAY

Dewey Fox, who I love dearly, recently made personal comments to many of us on facebook. As I read what he had to say, I was so moved by his affection and his willingness to reveal himself so openly. I think we do way too little of this kind of thing. It is not always easy for me to express myself, even though I feel deeply about certain people.

Dewey told me I was the best thing since buttermilk. That is the finest thing I have ever had said to me. It made me smile and feel so good and so loved. Thank you, Dewey.

I want to copy you, Dewey. I want to tell those I love how I feel and be specific. You are a great role model in so many ways. You touch us all in ways you cannot imagine. My life is so much richer just knowing you are there and that you have my back. You are the best, Dewey, to all of us.

TRADE OFF

My Mother's Hands

The pain medication is controlling Mama's pain but it is also keeping her drugged. But I can't let her hurt. She just told me her leg was hurting. I asked her if she thought she might need a bit more medicine she said yes. So, hopefully, she will rest.

Her voice is weak and just pitiful. I am able to understand most of what she says but sometimes it is hard. Of course, she isn't talking as much since she is taking so much medicine. It's a trade off.

She did well with her bath today, rested in bed, then wanted to get in her chair. She stayed there until a short time ago. She hasn't been hungry so she has just gotten her tube feeding.

A NOTE TO THE BOOKS I'M READING:
Dear Books,
I have not forgotten you. I love all of you and you will be read in due time. Just wait for me.
Love, Alice

FEELING HELPLESS

Mama is having a lot of pain. Keeping her comfortable has become a challenge. Her leg hurts no matter what position we get her in, both in the chair or bed. She suffered terribly in the night last night but finally got to sleep around 4 after we moved her to the chair and got her medicine adjusted. She has slept most of the day today.

She is so frail now. Not that she hasn't been but more so now. Her movements are slow and delayed. I know it is the medicine but she has to take it. When she talks, her voice is low and broken. But she rallies well. Usually.

Last night when she was so poorly, I felt completely helpless. I wasn't really, I just felt that way. It's heavy stuff to have someone completely dependent on me. I'm not always at the top of my game. Sometimes I'm lost in a book or a poem, or coloring, cutting and pasting. Sometimes I'm just lost. I'm lost a lot. But somewhere I'm getting the ability to take care of her.

TINY MUSES

It's always a joy to get a package from Sherl at Tiny Muses (www.etsy.com and search tinymuses). She has the most wonderful things in her shop. They come wrapped in blue tissue paper tied with white ribbon. The little packages are as much fun as the contents. These are some of the things in my latest package from Tiny Muses.

The little packages are so pretty.

Each piece is a treasure.

Sometimes, things come in little boxes.

This little quilt top is so sweet. I wonder who made it and was it for someone very special. I think it was.

The gondola was Olivia's favorite.

I wonder who this little frame belonged to and was it treasured. I'm sure it was.

A BETTER DAY

Mama has had a better day today. The nurse brought the pain patches this morning and that has helped her immensely. She has slept a lot but it is better to sleep that writhe in pain. The nurses suspect her leg or hip may be broken but finding out and fixing it would be far more painful that what she is going through now.

I have been surprised at how clear her speech and thinking has been. I was afraid the medicine would cause her be confused. She was able to talk on the phone a little and hasn't been confused hardly at all.

I haven't been able to breathe well for days. It's wearing me down.

Tomorrow I'm going out to see if the crocus are blooming in the flower bed.

PAIN

My mother has had a lot of pain today, both her leg and her head. We had to increase her medicine and it seems to have taken the edge off but not really has let her sleep soundly. She is miserable. Tomorrow the nurse will try someting different.

Olivia is here tonight. She has been asleep for a long time, she had a good day at school and went home with a little friend to play. She came in with a strawberry guitar and was thrilled.

I've had a few days of reading drought. I'm behind on my Bible reading as well as everything else I've been reading. But I can catch it up if I can get my mind cleared.

I keep coughing and can't breathe. It all started when I got chocked on my Multigrain Cheerios a few days ago.

I haven't worked on my Black Orchid Poems today. Maybe tomorrow.

HOSPICE

This has been a day with emotions running in every direction. I didn't go to sleep until 6 am. My mind just wouldn't settle. I had scheduled an appointment for Hospice to come here to discuss the direction to take in caring for Mama. Somehow, guilt squeezed it's way into my head, although I knew that was ridiculous. Hospice used to be called only when the patient was near death. But now that is not the case, it is available at any time a person needs home care. I just felt like having Hospice was giving up. When I did finally go to sleep, I was dead to the world. I knew Anna Ruth and Naomi were here and would take care of Mama. I knew I didn't have to listen for her. The nurses came at 10 sharp, me still asleep, in my pajamas. I jumped up, (sleeping on the couch), and asked them to give me a minute to dress, they said why, it was just them. So at the beginning I was put at ease, which set the tone for the rest of the visit. They were able to answer my questions and even answer questions I didn't know I wanted to ask. We found we had a lot in common, cats. We all love cats. So how could it go wrong.

I feel more equipped to keep Mama here until she dies. The support system gives me a lot of options. They provide the resources for me to handle whatever comes our way in caring for her. Already the nurses have provided me with medication to help manage her pain so she has been able to get some rest, without side effects. She did well with her speech and did quite a bit of talking. She popped a few jokes and we had some laughs. What more can I ask.

OUIET

The house is really quiet. There's been a lot of noise lately. Last night was noisy, I couldn't sleep. The tv was on, cats were jumping and hanging on the screen, trucks were rattling down the road, the washer, dryer and dishwasher were doing their jobs, I was coughing. Today has been no quieter, until now. Tracy came to clean, the vacuum was vacuuming, dishes were rattling, commodes flushing, phones ringing, dust was flying (I know, I know, dust isn't noisy), people talking, cats meowing.

Then it all came to a standstill. The house is cleaned, Mama is sleeping, the cats are sleeping in their favorite places, things are just quiet. Quiet is good.

This quiet reminds me of other quiet days. When I was a little girl I visited my old cousins, Essa Cova. Their house was usually quiet. Afternoons almost always found us napping. I can see myself on the daybed in the side room. In summer the windows would be open, I could hear the whippoorwill or the bob white entertaining themselves as well as me, the clock ticking, then striking. Occasionally, an airplane would fly overhead, making the unmistakable sound that planes make in the summer. During the winter, the fireplace would crackle and the logs would shift, stirring up little puffs of smoke and ash.

Days that I stayed home from school were quiet. Both as a student and as a teacher, days home were filled with silence. I liked the tv off, just enjoying the non-noise time. My mother would put a clean, cool sheet on the couch, tucking it in under the cushions, pulling it tight. I would stay like that for hours, sometimes, reading. I did the same for my children and grandchildren.

This quiet will soon be gone along with all the other quiet. I hope it doesn't stay away too long.

HECTIC DAYS

It's been a hectic few days. Mama has not improved since her doctor visit. Yesterday we thought she was going to rally but then fell back. She can't put any weight on her feet or push up with her arms. She feet and legs hurt as well as her head. I am leaving her in bed since she lists to the left and it difficult for her to maintain herself in her chair. She has a mattress that changes her position to protect her skin. She calls for me if I leave the room. Her level of confusion causes her to repeat and forget what she has asked or said. Then she gets aggravated at me when I don't know who or what she is talking about. I try to answer her with what I think she wants to hear but that doesn't seem to work either.

Hydrating her hasn't seemed to improve her condition nor has the antibiotic, although there hasn't been enough time for that.

She does say funny, appropriate things in moments of clarity. So maybe by tomorrow she will improve.

Olivia spent the night and Mama always enjoys her.

I've been sick so that makes it hard for me to keep up with everything. But I think I starting to be on the mend.

DOCTOR APPOINTMENT

We took Mama to the dr today. We decided to bring her home instead of the hospital. I think we can hydrate her and give her antibiotic here. I would have put her in hospital if Dr. Cole had said I should. She is sleeping now and has most of the day.

Mama doesn't like cats, or animals for that matter. But I love cats and have lots of them. Sadie, our oldest cat, a calico, mostly likes me. She is a rescue cat and I have taken good care of her. Recently, Sadie has taken to sleeping with Mama. Mama tries to run her out of the bed but she is insistent. She wants to get as close to Mama as she can, curling up against her legs, purring, sleeping. Since Mama isn't feeling well, she isn't running her away. When I do something for Mama, Sadie walks around on the bed, wanting to get close to Mama's face, it's like she is worrying over her. Sadie purrs and purrs. When I am finished, Sadie curls up against her legs again. I wonder what Sadie knows that we don't know.

I'm afraid my throat is getting sore. I sure don't need that.

I'm soon going to take to my bed and read. Maybe sleep a bit too.