The Life and Death of My Mother

One year ago today I was planning my Mother's funeral with my siblings. It all happened so fast that even now it seems surreal. Sometimes I still can't believe she is gone.

Mom's health had been rapidly failing and she was diagnosed with lung cancer. Three days before her death we met with her doctors to discuss the best treatment options. She was in excruciating pain due to a vascular condition called Boerger's Syndrome that was cutting off circulation to her left hand. The tissue in her fingertips was literally dying. That day they gave her morphine to alleviate the pain, but it barely took the edge off. She had been suffering from this condition for several weeks by then. Her oncologist had the saddest look in his eyes and I could tell he was very concerned - not so much about her cancer, but about her hand. We discussed possible amputation, but that was problematic as it would be difficult to know how much tissue to remove. Mom's primary doctor reviewed her charts - then paused, took Mom's hand into her own, and suggested that we get hospice involved. But none of us were ready for that, least of all Mom. Little did we know that two days later, we would be doing exactly that.

Later that day it became obvious to my sister, who is an RN, that Mom was probably experiencing a stroke. She was having more and more difficulty walking, and her left side was becoming flaccid. But Mom was a mighty tough lady and she continued to fight. I don't know how she kept going, when I look back at all the obstacles she was facing with her health.

The day before she died I was in church with my family and I sensed a strong urgency to call my sister. She said I needed to come back as soon as possible, as she decided to call hospice. I remember feeling so numb, and walking in the hallway of the church as though I were dreaming. Someone stopped me to ask if I was okay - and I blurted out, "My Mother is dying." I could hardly believe the words that had just come out of my mouth. I wasn't ready for this!!

I headed to Mom's that afternoon and my sister and I met with the hospice nurse. How wonderful she was! I knew right away we had made the right decision. It was obvious Mom was having a stroke and that it was "extending" - a word I learned from my sister. We decided to let nature take its course. Mom had faced enough and she had made it clear to us that there were to be no major medical interventions during a situation like this. Wow, is that hard to actually follow through on, though! Part of me wanted to call an ambulance, treat the stroke, amputate her dying tissue - and give her a shot at fighting her cancer. The other part knew that Mom was tired and could not take any more. To have pursued any other medical help besides pain control would have just made her suffer even further.

I decided to stay with Mom that night, even though there was a hospice nurse there. I just needed to be near her. My sister was concerned that I would not sleep, as Mom had not been sleeping hardly at all. I didn't really care, I just could not leave. That evening Mom was up in her recliner, she was very chipper and upbeat - and surprisingly pain-free, for the most part. The hospice nurses were working very hard to stay on top of her pain. We had just moved Mom to her lovely new apartment (an assisted living facility) a couple of weeks before, and she began to look around and see things that needed to be done. She was disgusted with the arrangement on top of her entertainment center ("Who did THAT?" she asked me!) and had me get up on a step stool several times to re-arrange things to her liking. Did I tell you that she was a very particular homemaker? :) I laughingly complied with her requests. Then she said, "We need to clean the apartment really well for all the company that will be coming." I said, "What company, Mom?" And she looked at me rather puzzled, and didn't know what to say. My sister said she thinks Mom knew at that point that she was dying - and the company that would be coming would be her relatives. It was just like her to worry about how the house looked after she was gone!! :)

That night Mom slept through the night, the first good night's sleep she'd had in weeks. I was so happy for her to have finally gotten some rest. She was in a good mood that morning but the stroke was worsening. She could hardly walk any more so we decided to get a bedside bathroom stool for her - and we ordered a hospital bed. She did not like that idea but we were struggling to help her in and out of bed. At one point, I was helping her shift around in her bed and adjusting her pillows. I attempted to move her up on the bed and just could NOT do it. I'd watched my sister (the RN) move Mom around and she made it look easy! After my clumsy attempts, Mom laid back in frustration and dryly quipped, "Elizabeth, it is obvious to me that your calling is teaching." Oh, how my sister and I laughed! That was Mom's sense of humor - sassy and dry and out of nowhere. I loved it.

Her sense of humor remained intact up until she was dying. Throughout the day we had family visiting, two of her sisters in particular. We decided that evening to leave Mom in the care of the hospice nurse and go out to eat at a local chinese buffet. I think Mom was glad for a bit of a break from all the company - and she looked forward to a bit of quiet time. As we left she joked, "You go out and enjoy yourselves. I'll stay right here." So we left her place laughing, in spite of the heaviness that was over all of us.

While we were eating the thought went through my mind, "What if Mom dies while we are gone?" and just then my aunt said the same thing. I quickly dismissed the thought though - none of us fathomed that she could go so quickly. However, when we got back to her place the hospice nurse was deeply concerned. Mom had suddenly turned for the worse and it was obvious she was dying. And she was scared.

At one point I asked for a few moments alone with Mom. I needed to spend some time in prayer with her and I wanted her to be aware of what was going on. Her breathing was labored - and she was frightened. I told her that her time on earth was ending and that at any moment she could be meeting the Lord. I urged her to examine her heart, to be certain she was ready to meet Him. I reminded her that God's word makes it very clear that only through His mercy and grace can we get to heaven - not by our own good works or religion. Then I prayed with Mom, prompting her to accept Christ as her Saviour. I'm so thankful to God that I had that time with her, it was a very precious moment in the midst of a time of despair. I could tell that Mom's breathing and body began to visibly relax after we had prayed.

Within an hour or so the moment we had all been dreading was upon us. Just then her brother called - and as Mom took her last few breaths he said his goodbyes to her over the phone. Literally at that moment Mom's sister walked into the room - spoke a few words - and then Mom was gone. It was over. She spent her last moments alive on this earth with her two daughters, a daughter-in-law, and two of her sisters. I'm so thankful I was there.

Now, one year later, every room of my home reflects my Mother in some way. There is a picture from her, or a knick-knack, or a piece of furniture that we inherited. It is bitter-sweet to have these things.

Her funeral was bitter-sweet as well. But, in typical Mom-fashion, several funny things happened. First off, Mom had picked out an outfit she wanted to be buried in. It was a lovely dress and she even had matching undergarments, shoes and jewelry she wanted to wear. She said she was "Going out in style"! However we could not find her shoes!! Sometime during the confusion of moving her to her new apartment and going through her belongings she had accidentally given the matching shoes away to her sister! So - we buried her in a pair of her favorite slippers. One other thing that happened is we could not find her bottom dentures! I am convinced she hid them on us. The were always in her purse, she did not like wearing them unless she was eating, for some reason they were bothering her. I looked in her purse, my sister looked in her purse - every person who was there searched her apartment top to bottom. The teeth were nowhere to be found. So we had to bury her without her teeth.

Mom had the most beautiful casket, it was a work of art. We all agreed on the same one - it was very "Mom". After we said our final goodbyes to her, all four of us siblings gently lowered the casket lid. For whatever reason, we let go of the lid about an inch or so from shutting - and it snapped shut with a loud echo throughout the church. I was mortified!! We slammed our Mother's casket lid shut!!! Can we have a do-over??

On the way to my brother's house that evening after the funeral I mentioned how much it bothered me that we had slammed Mom's casket lid. My oldest brother said, "Well, the last thing Mom always said to us as we left the house was 'Don't slam the door!' " and we all had a good laugh. It helped to bring that moment into perspective for me.

But what about her teeth? As we packed up Mom's things we all kept an eye out for the missing teeth. It was so odd we could not find them. After all the things were cleared from her apartment, and we had cleaned it from top to bottom, I picked up her purse and looked inside, and (I am not kidding either) there were her missing teeth, in plain sight!! I can't count how many of us looked in her purse for those teeth - and I had looked in there several times myself.

You got the last laugh, Mom. Oh, how I miss you!