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It was August 23, 2005 around 7PM when the Hospice nurse told us our mother was in the dying stage of Cancer and would pass within 24 to 72 hours. She said we had to decide if we wanted her somewhat alert and in some discomfort or resting peacefully. We chose resting peacefully. My sister, Lynda, who was seven years older than I, walked away with me and suddenly collapsed against me in tears. I walked us to a couch where we could sit down. I put an arm around her as she sobbed against me. If you would have told me when I was thirteen that the older sister I admired, worshipped and longed to spend time with who swatted me away like a pesky fly; that we would one day be close- I would have said you had the wrong person. But here we were about to lose our mother and turning to each other for support.
My dad was in denial. The following day was their forty- eighth wedding anniversary. He had gotten her a card and was walking around showing it to everyone and planned to give it to her. The nurse had injected the calming drugs and told Lynda and I she could still hear. That it would really help if we went in there and told her it was okay for her to go. Lynda went in first and was in there for awhile. She came out and I went in and did not know what to say- how do you tell your mother it’s okay to die? She did seem very comfortable. I told her we would be all right, we had each other. I spent most of my time just watching the woman who gave birth to me dying. I was on the verge of tears so I left. Lynda and I planned on staying all night and Aunt Betty did not seem to have any intention of leaving. Then dad announced he was all set. That was his friendly way of saying “get out” that he wanted to be alone. Lynda and I took the hint and reluctantly left. Aunt Betty was not so easy; he practically had to escort her to her car. He was left with the Hospice nurse and the 24-hour aide. My brother, Patrick, called around 10:30 that night. Dad had called him. Mom had passed. She was seventy-three years old. Patrick spoke in a quiet restrained voice and told me he thought what Lynda and I did was “awesome.” I had to think what we did then realized he was talking about telling her it was okay to go.
In December of 2003, one of my cats took ill and was back and forth to the vet until it was finally suggested we take him to a specialist and get an Endoscopy. This is when we met Dr E. A couple days later he called with the results, Riley had Cancer- Lymphoma of the intestines. I asked how long he had and Dr E said cats with his type of Cancer are known to live about three years. I was devastated.
Mom started having breathing problems in December of 2003 and in January her doctor wanted her to get a Pulmonary Function Test. They could not do this because of the fluid in her lungs. They hospitalized her while they drained some of the fluids, took more X-rays and did a CT-Scan. The tests revealed Cancer in her lungs, her liver and adrenal glands. We had a family meeting where her doctor explained her Cancer and treatment. Lisa sent me to the meeting with some questions; one of them being what stage was the Cancer in? Stage four. Mom later said she didn’t know how many stages there were, maybe ten. I was not going to be the one to tell her there were five. I never understood why God was punishing mother. She was a recovering alcoholic who had become very depressed afterwards. She took care of her elderly mother who reduced her to tears. Grandma died and mom was free. She had three beautiful grandchildren who she just adored- why did God take her away from all that when she was finally happy?
I do not remember much of her drinking, just a few instances. Patrick got the brunt of it. She would wait up for him after drinking and just sob to him in the kitchen. Mom told me later when she was sober awhile how I used to sit with her in the family room when she had been drinking, pleading with her to go to bed. She told me how heartbreaking it was to have her youngest child begging her to go to bed. I think I was eight or nine. I have no recollection of this. She went to a therapist for help. This is when Hillary first enters the picture. Hillary said she would not see my mother unless she was sober. She told her to go to 90 Alcoholics Anonymous meetings in 90 days- then come back and see her. Apparently she sat the family down and said she was not making any promises but was going to try and quit drinking. Neither Lynda nor I remember this or her going to meetings, but she did because she started seeing Hillary. She quit drinking around Thanksgiving in 1979 and never picked up a drink the rest of her life. I was a sad and withdrawn kid so eventually they sent me to Hillary who diagnosed me with Depression. So mom quit drinking in 1979 and I discovered the true benefits of it in 1980. If I drank about six or seven beers the night before, I would feel pretty mellow the next day. I was very shy and picked on and the ‘liquid courage’ helped me be more outgoing. I did not do this all the time, and then my Depression would rear its ugly head. So I was feeling pretty bad and mother had fallen into a bad depression. Father pulled me aside asking me to help mother. How could I help her when I could not help myself? When I told Hillary about this, she smashed her fist into her hand and said “Sometimes I could kill that man.”
High school started and Speech Class was a required course. The thought of standing in front of a classroom of kids terrified me. My solution? A few drinks in the morning. A jar of whiskey or rum in my backpack along with a couple cans of beers, all slammed down in the ladies room before class. How did I survive four years of drama? I barely remember sophomore year. I drank a lot and smoked a lot of pot. I do remember the Fall Show. I had a bit part in it where I could not speak and the lead actor was interrogating me and I could only try and talk and gesture wildly with my hands. He then speaks to all of us and swings his arm accidently knocking me off the chair and I went flying to the floor. The audience loved it! I am naturally clumsy and whenever there was a character needed to be clumsy, I was called upon. Another beautiful thing about the fall show is that it always fell on the week-end mom and dad were at dad’s business conference out of state. So I would throw the closing night party. Sophomore year mom helped out at dad’s office a lot so usually no one was home. A friend of mine would come over and we would ‘drink’ our lunch. I finally got nailed for being intoxicated on school grounds and a phone call was made to dad’s office. Mom collapsed against the wall so dad came and got me. I quit drinking until second semester of junior year. At the close of first semester senior year I saw I was in danger of not graduating and knew I had to change things. So I did a 180 and graduated with 1/2 a credit to spare
I stayed sober until February of 1986. This is when the hard drinking started. I had a friend with a fake ID and a friend whose boyfriend was of age. We started with fifths of rum but that was not enough so I would have them get a case of beer too. Then I started getting fifths of Jack Daniels and would drink one a night a few nights a week- along with beer. My friends were starting to get concerned about my drinking and I would just say “Of course I’m an alcoholic! That’s why I drink!”
I was a functioning drunk, holding down a full time job where I usually opened up the place after drinking until 4AM. The drinking really did not affect my job. In fact, one of the managers there called me ‘superstar’ because I did the work of two during a rush- just stay out of my way! There were only a few mornings where I was hurting. Very few.
After a year of hard drinking, I was at the point where I was afraid of choking on my vomit at night and would force myself to throw up before going to bed. A friend caught me on a vulnerable night and to admit I needed to clean up. He said what I needed to do was wake up my parents while I was ready to quit. I got them up and mom knew something had been going on and dad was calm, he said “We’ll take care of this in the morning.” The following morning I was put on a waiting list for a recommended treatment center. I met with the intake therapist who just kept shaking her head saying “Why didn’t you come to us sooner?” I was also informed quitting drinking cold turkey after the amounts I was drinking could have put me into a seizure. I should have been detoxed. Here I thought I was doing the right thing. My name came up and I went in for a 28 day program. This was 1987 when they had 28 day programs instead of just the 3-4 day stays they now have. I had a physical and was found to be in the beginning stages of liver disease, luckily the liver repairs itself. I just missed the cut off to be in the adolescent program. So I was the youngest in a group of mostly older men. The treatment did me a lot of good. I got along real well with my group. Some of the younger guys were attacking another member who spent time in his room with the door closed. They used me as an example when They said “Julie’s in her room a lot, but her door is wide open and we feel if we wanted to go in and talk to her, we could.” I was honestly flattered because I did not want to come across as isolating. Sunday was visiting day and one Sunday Lynda came to visit. I was really surprised. I vaguely remember her visit just that it was awkward at first. Like the reality of my situation had not hit her until now. We did wind up having a good visit though. We bonded. We became more than sisters- we became friends.
Once home, I felt great and babbled like an idiot to anyone who would listen. I was just so ‘high on life’ as sometimes happens to people when they first get sober. That’s all good and fine but then these people usually crash. I sure did. By October I was in a deep Depression and the only people I would talk to were Hillary and Lynda. Hillary had me see the psychiatrist she worked under her and he put me on an anti-depressant. He was not happy with the results and wanted to put me on a higher dose which meant I would have to be hospitalized on a psychiatric ward so they could keep an eye on me. While in the hospital my anger surfaced, it had been suppressed a long time. I was always getting myself on watches for stupid things or a staff member would have to sit with me. It was while there I was diagnosed as Bi-Polar. Suddenly things were making sense. Before I went to bed I would have a couple cups of hot chocolate. I was sitting in the kitchen with one of the patients when all of a sudden I hit the floor in a seizure. It was for this reason they hospitalize people on higher doses of medications. Cass pulled my tongue out of my throat to keep me from trying to swallowing it as he called for help. To make a long story short, I had hit my head on the heater and had to get stitches above my eye and had a black eye for awhile. The nurses joked with me, telling me I should say “you should see what happened to the other guy.” I had been there nearly two months and had shown little improvement so was sent to a long term facility three hours away. I was in a fog so had no feelings about the place, mother however, wanted to grab me and run. The place spooked her. I came out of the fog and it was like someone had smacked me upside the head. I knew I did not belong there. I called dad and told him I wanted out. At first he said they wanted me home then he started talking about taking me to Court to keep me there. The situation was, if I signed myself out, it would be Against Medical Advice and psychiatrists would be reluctant to take me on as a patient. This was true with the doctor Hillary worked under and my parents thought sure Hillary would be able to talk some sense into me. I told her it had been nice working with her. I was so adamant about getting out of there I told my parents if they did not come get me I would live with some friends in the area. They finally agreed to get me. Patrick and mom came to get me. I was so happy to see them and so happy to finally be going home. I was sent home with a little medication, just enough to get by for a few days. We had to find a psychiatrist quick. Signing myself out AMA might make this difficult. Dad called the place I went to Alcohol Rehab for and they got us an appointment with a psychiatrist there.
I was really nervous about seeing another psychiatrist. When I went in to see Dr K. who told me I was not crazy. Finally! A psychiatrist who did not talk down to me. She put me on some medications and we met for awhile. I started seeing another therapist and she required I see the doctor she worked under. Not only was I crushed that I had to stop seeing Dr K. But Dr L. - talk about someone talking down to you! He was an idiot and the therapist told me some of her other patients said the same thing. I was so glad when he moved and I was able to see Dr K. again.
I refer to the summer of 1988 as my “Emily Dickinson” summer. I often wore my white sweatpants and a white t-shirt. Kind of how Emily Dickinson always wore white dresses. Patrick and Lynda being a year apart had the same friends and they came over every week-end to hang out by the pool. I do not recall if my sister was around much. I stayed up late and often slept through the activities. Sometimes I would be up but go downstairs and listen to music. Just like Emily Dickinson, I was very reclusive, so on rare occasions where I would go outside there would be this quiet hush ‘it’s the reclusive sister!’ Summer turned into fall and Lynda and I took one of our first trips to Florida together. Another thing I never would have believed. It was also time for me to start working again. I got a job at a department store warehouse just before the Holidays. Wrong time to start such a job. Especially when the warehouse is unorganized. I think I lasted a month then had a melt down and walked off the job. Took some more time off then got a job at a drug store where things worked out really well.
I was in a really unstable relationship but we got an apartment and one of the first things we got was a kitten- Riley. Before our lease was up we got another kitten- Bronte. We had an issue where Riley kept attacking Bronte. Our vet at the time told us not to worry, that no matter how bad it sounded, he would not hurt her. We moved into a house and the extra space seemed to help. The fighting continued, just not as often. Bronte had more places to hide. Our relationship did not get any better. I was miserable. I was eight years sober when I told her I was going to deposit my check- the bank was on the corner. I deposited my check and took some money out then looked for an open liquor store on a Sunday night. I found one and bought a pint of Jack Daniels. My first opportunity to use my ID. They say the disease of alcoholism progresses along with you whether one is drinking or not. If you have not been drinking awhile and pick up a drink, you pick up where you would have left off had you never stopped. The pint was doing some damage but that was not enough. I went to a bar ordering a whiskey and coke and spiked the drink. I called Lynda and told her where I was, she arrived right away. I have no recollection of what occurred next. Not going to the emergency room or becoming so violent when they tried to put me in a hospital bed that they had to call Security and put me in restraints. They pumped my stomach as I had a very toxic amount of alcohol in my system and they did not know just how much medication I was on. Afterwards they injected me with something to knock me out. When I started waking up, Lynda and my ex said I would freak if I woke up in restraints and could they be removed? I was no longer considered hostile, so they removed them. I continued going out on binges here and there. My ex and I split up at one point and I went to stay at my parents for a month.
Then I got my dream job, working at the hospital down the street. I started out part-time afternoons in dietary but really wanted to get full-time midnights. It was a long wait but I got a job with floor maintenance. My ex didn’t like being alone at night so she moved on. I really did not like the job and it just got worse and worse. I would arrive a little early to smoke a cigarette and mentally get ready for my shift. The Environmental Services staff would be outside and one of the girls and I kept making eye contact. She worked up on the second floor which was part of my work area. We usually ran into each other just as she was leaving the floor to go home. I became so miserable at the job I started to drink again. This went on for awhile until one afternoon I passed out sitting on the couch. I awoke and thought I missed my shift. I quickly went up to the hospital to plead my case. I was actually about four hours early for my shift. One of the supervisors saw me and quickly filled out the paper work and brought me up to Emergency for a suitability test. I failed miserably and was told to report to Employee Health the next day. The doctor in charge of my case I referred to as ‘Miss Personality.’ Everything she said to me she followed it with: ‘if you still have a job.’ I did still have a job but was put on two years probation. This included a leave of absence where I had to go to in-patient rehab as well as outpatient. I then had to go to a recovery group once a week, get blood drawn to be tested monthly, and the clincher was three AA meetings a week where I had to get a sheet signed to validate I was there. I HATED meetings!! They did nothing for me but irritate me and the fact that I did not drive did not help. Luckily, there were three meetings a week at the hospital but that meant getting up early- not as early as that discussion group, but something good was about to happen. I returned to work and the girl I had been exchanging eyes with was now all dressed up working midnights. She had gotten a promotion. If I was outside smoking when she came outside she would sit next to me and we started getting to know each other. Then she started to bring coffee out to me. There seemed to be a definite chemistry between us. We went out on a date and I was shy at first but then things started happening pretty fast. I took her to meet my grandmother who was in a nursing home. Our family was all scheduled to go to my dad’s last business conference before he retired. Not long before this, grandma died at age ninety-three. It was tough. My mom was shaky; I did not want to be away from Lisa. Except for my father, we were all going to Disney World after the conference. Mom did a great job of keeping herself together. While I was gone, Lisa moved some of her stuff into the house and stayed there. We talked every night.
So I returned to work and being with Lisa made tolerating work a little easier. I held on for awhile until I just could not handle it anymore. I felt on the verge of a breakdown and took a leave of absence. Lisa commented on how much more relaxed I was once out of there. I realized I just could not do that job anymore. I tried interviewing in other departments but was just so fragile. After my leave of absence I put in my two week notice. I took a little time off then got another job which was a disaster. The hospital had given me my greatest gift- Lisa, but it also broke my spirit. Or the work ethic I had always prided myself on. Dr K. suggested I file for Disability. ‘How, why?’ I asked. She said Bi-polar was a legitimate handicap. What followed was over two years of waiting and Lisa paying the bills and getting really frustrated. All my money went to cigarettes and therapy. I had decided to go back into therapy and called Hillary asking if she would take me on as a patient. She hesitated but said she would. It was really handy seeing someone who already knew me. I just had to catch her up on the years in-between when we terminated. It also helped that she knew my family and had great admiration for my mother.
Lisa was very supportive when I found out Riley had Cancer and extremely supportive when my mom was diagnosed. She had seen her grandparents die a painful deaths to Cancer. While mom was in the hospital we would visit her every day. One night I was going to give her a break telling her we did not have to go. “Of course we do!” Lisa said. Lisa had been on vacation and once she was back she used to check in on my mom.
Every July we get together with dad’s side of the family at Lynda and Tony’s. It is right around mom’s birthday so we celebrate it and usually have a cake. 2004 she was in the hospital when we had the party so Patrick called her up and told her what a great time we were having at her party. I am sure she had some choice words for him. She was always a good sport. My siblings and I had different views on how long mom had. Lynda and I were out to dinner one night and she said Patrick tells people it is horrible that she does not have long, Lynda did not want to know and I wanted to know just so I was prepared. Mom had been worried she would not be able to go on the Cruise she had planned with Aunt J, Lynda and Tony, but her doctor gave her the okay. They had a lot of fun. Just what mom needed. This was August and mom had started driving a little bit. Aunt B came over once a week and they would have lunch and run any errands if needed. She had another CT scan and the tumors shrunk so she was put on oral Chemo which had horrible side effects.
Riley continued to have problems with his Chemo. Dr E suggested taking him off it for awhile and I panicked “Then what’s going to fight the Cancer?” I asked. Dr E said he would be all right on his steroid for awhile. Eventually they did try him on a new Chemo and he could not tolerate that so Dr E spread out the doses. Then he stopped eating and this turned out to be an overactive thyroid. He was given some pills and started eating again.
In June of 2005, mom and dad were out at Lynda and Tony’s on the pontoon boat in the middle of the lake when it started raining. Mom was standing up when it started to pour and dad floored the engine causing mom to fall flat on top of a cooler. She was really sore and went to the doctor to find she had cracked three ribs. She took to her bed and whenever I called, dad would tell me she was resting. It became very frustrating. Right around this time my Disability Hearing came up. It was granted to me. I owed this to a smart doctor- Dr K. and a sharp lawyer. I got home and mom actually called! She was so excited for me. I could hear it in her voice. She told me she really wanted to be there with me. After that she took to her bed and got worse. It was like she was hanging on for me. Aunt Betty, a retired nurse, noticed her abdomen had swelled. Dad and Aunt B had a painful decision to make. Whether or not to call in Hospice. They made the call then called us kids. We were all there along with the Hospice nurse when they asked mom what she wanted to do. At first she said she wanted to try to fight again and dad told her he could not take care of her. She would have to be taken to the Emergency room. She reluctantly agreed to Hospice. So they brought in the hospital bed and swapped out beds, set up oxygen and ordered medications. Lynda sent out the word to the cousins and their families. They all came into town and it was a lively time. Hard to believe mom lay dying inside. People took turns visiting her. During the time everyone was in town the backyard was full of people, two of Patrick and Lynda’s friends from out of State were in town and came over. They were very fond of mom and her, of them. They called her ‘ma.’ Something about mother, Patrick and Lynda’s friends all felt close to her, then when my friends started coming over on a regular basis they would sit upstairs for awhile talking to mom before going to the basement. After everyone left and went back to the States they came from, it was back to Aunt B, Lynda and I. I recall one of the aides saying to the Hospice nurse that she was not used to a Hospice patient being so alert. Mom caught me by surprise too. I was in the room with her and she seemed to be resting. I said “I love you, mom.” Her eyes flung open and she looked right at me and said “I love you too, honey.” I felt really good about that, it still makes me smile today. It was after this she started to fail. We would go in and she would just be staring up at the ceiling unresponsive. This was when the nurse told us she did not have long.
So I got off the phone with Patrick and was in shock. My mother was dead. I just could not believe it. I did not call Lisa as she was due home soon. She got home and we hugged hello as usual and during our embrace I told her “mom passed.” She froze in my arms. We went in the kitchen and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. Here is how out of touch I was- I asked her if her sinuses were acting up and she said “no, I’m sad.” The next day we went to father’s and went over a sort of Will mom left. She gave me a necklace and a Hummel that was given to her when I was born. She left a ring to Lisa which I thought was really nice. I had a meeting with Hillary right after mom’s death. Hillary was just shutting the door when I gave her the news. She froze at the door. I only saw Hillary every other week so she did not realize how sick mother was. Hillary was blindsided by the news. I was still pretty numb and not in touch with my feelings about her death. It was really cool seeing a therapist who knew mom so well. We talked about mom and Hillary spoke of her as to what a terrific lady she was.
The day of the visitation, Lisa and I arrived, as soon as I saw mom laid out in her coffin I began to lose it. I walked up to the coffin and knelt down then did lose it. Lisa had kneeled down next to me and rubbed my back as I said “that’s my mother” in-between sobs. We stayed there awhile until I got my composure and was ready to face visitors. Neighbors and friends of the family I had not seen for years paid their respects. It was good to see them again, I just regretted the circumstances. There was a special room for the family where family had brought some food and soft drinks. Lisa and I went in there and my nephews were in there. They were five and seven at the time I believe. I was asking them nonsense questions with a straight face and they were laughing.
I started a poem for mother just after she was diagnosed, picked it up again when Hospice was called in then finished it after her death. When Father S was going over ideas for the Funeral Mass I remembered a couple of hymns mom loved and I asked if I could read my poem. Cousin Maureen wanted to do the Eulogy and that was fine by everyone. The day of the Funeral I did not expect the coffin to be open in the back of the Church. When I had to walk by the open coffin with my family I am sure I got choked up. To me the worst part of a Funeral has always been when they roll the coffin up to the altar, that’s where I lost it at all my grandparents’ Funerals. I had to keep my composure to read my poem. I had asked Lisa to go up with me for support.
For Mother, August, 2005
Mother, I thought
You would live forever
Now you are leaving
And neither of us knows why
You wither before me
Can’t lift your head
To meet my kiss
Only struggle
Mother, I don’t understand
Why I’m losing you
I am only thirty-seven
There should be more time
I rub my belly
Where once we were attached
When I was a newborn
And you held me close
Seeing you now
You are as beautiful
As that picture taken
When you graduated as a nurse
I was able to read it without breaking down. Cousin Maureen gave a beautiful Eulogy. Not many associated my mother as a Registered Nurse, but she had gone through the training and worked for awhile putting my father through school to get his doctorate. Maureen based her Eulogy on how important mom’s nurse’s training had been to her, how she kept her RN license active, and the importance of the pledge spoken at the pinning ceremony. Maureen went on to speak about how much fun it was to go to the O’Donovan’s in the summer, along with things she learned from mother. She closed by saying mom “lived her life fully, fighting her illness bravely.” After the Mass there was a luncheon then mostly family went to the cemetery. We said prayers and each of us was given a flower from one of the arrangements. We went out to the burial site where the hole was already dug and watched as the truck lifted her coffin up and put her to rest in the ground. Groundskeepers started shoveling dirt on top; I stood near and dropped my flower in with mom. Patrick was faced with designing her headstone. He seemed relieved when I said I would help him. We were really lost at first then I suggested she really enjoyed her birds, always making sure the bird feeders were full. I also remembered whenever she saw a cardinal she would say “there’s mom.” So we put cardinals on either side of the stone and ordered a vase for the stone.
We took the big step and had our first family gathering at Lynda and Tony’s since mom died. We did all right; it was not a somber time. I wrote another poem about mom that impressed Patrick so much he sounded so sincere when he said it was “awesome.” Aunt B called and almost sounded choked up when she said “You captured the woman I loved.”
The Wind Sings
The sun and the wind
Rose to greet her
Thousands of leprechauns playing fiddles
Serenaded her
For she was a rose
A beautiful rose
Her eyes sparkled
She loved to dance
She was a friend to all
Always there
To comfort
Concerns
Special lady
Touching the hearts
Of many
Always giving
I hear her in the wind
I call to her
Silence
But I know she is there
It was the Holidays I was worried about and could not believe how well I breezed through them. Cousin Kathie, who lost her mom when she was about eleven (Cousin Maureen’s youngest sibling), told me it was the second year of Holidays that was rough. Right around this time, my dad met a woman twenty years his junior at a benefit for a hospital he used to run. This woman had buried two husbands and I worried she would bury my father. He insisted there would be marriage. Yes, I was resentful at first thinking she was taking the place of my mother but then I realized how important it was father not be alone. She took care of him. I slowly warmed up to her. Not long after mom’s death, Lynda and I spent two days clearing out mom’s belongings in her room. Getting her clothes ready for charity and I took her Diana of Wales books- she adored her. I also took the doll my uncle had given her when she was little, she held that doll dear the rest of her life. We had to detach ourselves from what we were doing. To look at the reality that we were cleaning out our dead mother’s belongings would have been hard to take.
The first St Patrick’s Day without mom really threw me off. I expected it to be like any other day, but earlier in the day I had been sad, crying. Lynda called me later and told me she was sad and missed mom. She seemed surprised when I told her I too had been having a hard day. So we talked for awhile. She told me Patrick went pub hopping and wound up at mom’s grave. The stone was in but covered in ice. As it became closer to December I felt a dark feeling and then December hit me like a ton of bricks. Cousin Kathie was right about the second year. Dr K had raised my klonopin dose to 1mg and Lisa would leave me one before she went to work. Lisa had the patience of a Saint. All I would do is cry and cry and she was so supportive even though there was not much she could do. Just her being there helped me get through it. It did not help that father had thrown out mom’s tree ornaments. There were three I know mom would have liked me to put on my tree. One of them was a cookie dough Angel I had made in first grade. It was always the first ornament she put on the tree. Now it was gone.
I finally came out of it mid-January. On Mother’s Day we went out to the cemetery. There were already some flowers in the vase. Patrick and his family beat us to it. The headstone was beautiful but the borders were covered with little buds which had fallen from the tree next to the plot. Lisa wiped them away the best she could. Dad bought the plot next to them for me. Kind of weird to be standing where you are going to be buried. Aunt J was hoping to be the first one to go out there with me, so I just made another trip with her. It was fun hanging out with Aunt J.
This was going into Riley’s third year of Cancer and he showed no signs of slowing down. He was so aggressive at the animal clinic that Dr B thought there was no way this cat was in his third year of Cancer. In order to weigh him and give him vaccinations, they had to dump him from his carrier into this net contraption that folded in half and velcroed shut, Totally immobilizing him while he screamed hissed and spit. Dr B had Dr E fax the results of his endoscopy and there it was, just as he told me- Lymphoma of the intestines.
My family became closer. Dad and I would check in with each other and end the conversations with “I Love You.” Something we did not do before. Patrick and I would go out to lunch on occasion or he would call me to just see how things were going. His wife, Julie, and I would sometimes hang out, going out on errands. I really enjoy the time we spend together. We never really used to spend time together. Lynda and Tony live on a lake and our dog, Josie, loves to swim. So we started making frequent visits over there. Lynda’s dentist is in this area, so whenever she has an appointment we go out to dinner. She calls just to check in too.
One day my fourteen year old nephew, Danny, sent me a poem he thought I might like. I did not even know he wrote poetry. I was really impressed by the poem. We were at dad’s a few days later and Julie asked him if he brought his poetry book and he said no, because he didn’t want to show everyone. Turns out he was studying and writing the poems for school. When I got home I wrote to him asking if I could see his poetry and he said he would be happy to share it with me. Some of the poems were really good. I wrote and told him he could take over as family poet as I was getting ready to retire. I suggested he write a poem about Grandma Gayle- my mom. He said he would love to. After a dry spell, some lines came to me about mom but I got stuck, so I sent what I had to Danny and he took it in an entirely different direction and we passed it back and forth a few times until it was complete. I thought it was a cool poem. A good bonding experience for us.
Butterflies and the Candle
Mama you should see
The sunflower Lisa grew
We thought it had died
But she called me to the side
To show it to me in all its splendor
Butterflies fly
By the butterfly bush
Bumblebees swarm around it
Reminding me of just how much
I miss you
I step outside
And look at our star
The one you said was mine
It twinkles tonight
You are saying hello to me
You are a candle
You were illuminating
Dark became light
Flaming with life
Warming and leading the way
Seeing what most cannot
Lighting the life of others
Branching out your flame
A candle though, does not last forever
The wick will grow short
Your flame has gone away now
But you are not gone
Your smoke continues
Your wax is all around you
Your ashes floating in life
While your flame was still there
You shared it with others
Lighting the life for future generations
Your flame may have left
But the candles around you have not
J. O’D/D. O’D 8/2007
I tried to get it published and while I was at it, tried getting some of my own work published. I did not have success with our poem but had much success with my poems. I will keep trying though.
Speaking of bonds, I thought it would be a sisterly bond thing to go visit mom on the second year anniversary of her death. Lynda thought that was a great idea. We bought some flowers and went out there and put them in the vase with water. She or dad bought her a plot in the same area and we were wondering if Patrick bought plots there for him and Julie. We were trying to figure out how everyone would fit based on the surrounding graves. Lynda started to wander around looking at the other headstones while I just stood staring down at mom’s grave. I was on the verge of choking up so I asked Lynda if she was ready. She had been waiting on me.
In November of 2007, Riley became very sick. We took him to Dr B and her assistant, Lisa. This typically ferocious cat was just lying there. “I’ve never seen him like this” Lisa said in almost a whisper. He was running a fever and just a mess. They said they wanted to keep him for the day and then decided to keep him overnight to get fluids in him. Dr B was used to Riley but a different doctor was in the following morning. The doctor called me and told me he appeared to be doing better as they had to knock him out twice. Once because he pulled out his IV and they had to put it back in, and again when he rolled himself up in the tubing and they had to unravel him. She was pretty much saying ‘please come get your cat.’ He did all right for a few days then stopped eating and drinking again. Dr B was on vacation so we took him out to Dr E who did an ultrasound revealing pancreatic Cancer. Lisa kept insisting to me she refused to see Riley suffer. If he did not start getting better and I could not bring myself to end his suffering- she would. During one of the visits to Dr B she put him on a muscle relaxer. She gave him a dose just before we left. By the time we got home, he could not walk a straight line and fell halfway down the stairs. I would give him this stuff and he would get so stoned part of his eyelids would show. He would give me the most pleading look like ‘Why? Mommy, Why?’ I really felt like I was losing him. After all, this was nearing the end of his fourth year with Cancer and his prognosis had been three years. While he was not eating, during a phone conversation, Dr B said she might have to insert a feeding tube so we could feed him liquids. I would not put him through that. It was not brought up again and Dr B was not ready to give up on him. There was a reason why- to everyone’s amazement, Riley did a complete turnaround. The cats food dishes are behind the computer chair and whenever I heard a cat eating I would always hope it might be Riley. Bronte was eating enough for the both of them. Now when I turn around, sometimes it is Riley eating. His appetite is good, he is gaining some of the weight he lost and is drinking water too.
Lynda made a good point. I told her with all his ailments, I didn’t know what kept Riley going. She said “Maybe he’s not ready to go yet.” I think she’s right.
