Reasons To Love Monday

I always feel a *little* bit guilty complaining about Mondays because... honestly, my Mondays don't really suck as much since I'm on disability. However, I tend to be a bit of an empath and I know a lot of you are facing a busy workweek / week of parenting / whatever and I do feel your pain. I really do! So even though we have to drag ourselves out of bed, knock the pollen off our cars (except for Wendy in Oz because I think it's not Spring down under currently, is it?) and commence this first full week of May... I found a few reasons to love this Monday! Here goes!

• 1. I'm bloggggggging! I haven't done a RTLM post in a really, really long time.
• 2. I DO have to take Austin to work (or Pop might, he sometimes does on Monday) and I DO have to pick Austin up from work... but at least he has a great job that is convenient to our house and they are so nice to him.
• 2.5 Austin gets paid every other Monday and this is not payday so I don't have to drive him into town to the bank today. It's the little things. (By the way... if anyone wants to let Austin practice driving with you, let us know!)
• 3. It's not cold and it's not hot yet.
• 4. I'll probably get some Bonus Cosy Time today since her mama has to work and grandma has a doctor's appointment this afternoon.
• 5. Today is fitting number two on my partials that I have been working towards for nearly fifteen years. I am so close to the finish line on this whole dental nightmare! I think there's one more fitting after today and then I get a full set of chompers near the end of the month. (I have a blog post written that will sort of summarize my dental journey... it will be posted some time this week, probably)
• 6. It's Marvin's Thursday... so, basically Friday Eve in his (our) world! He is off from his day job on Wednesday and Thursday so that's serves as his weekend. His weekend = my weekend since I usually stay with him when he's not working. He does host trivia on Wednesday and Thursday night but... more on that in a future post! But Monday means I'm only one day from seeing him again and that makes me happy! 
• 7. It wouldn't be RTLM if I didn't include some kind of food love... I LOVE the Bolthouse Farms fruit juice smoothies. They aren't cheap - usually $3.09 for 15.2 oz at Ingles, $1.94 for the same size at Walmart. BUT they were buy one get one free at Ingles this week so I did a mini-stock up and will be able to boost my fruit/veg intake this week. Chewing has been rough for the past month or so SO having juices helps me feel better. It's fresh juice so I don't think I can stock up too much because they will go bad but I may swing by and pick up a few more.
• 8. I woke up with a bit of a headache but I'm going to just trust that it WILL get better before I have to go to the dentist this afternoon. Advil is a Reason To Love Monday because it gets me through a lot of them. See also, Tuesday, Wednesday, and so forth. 

How's that for my return to Reasons To Love Monday? Can you pitch in with a few of your own? It is much easier to post a comment on the Facebook link to my blog post - and it's actually easier for me to see them so feel free to add your RTL there! Have a great day, friends!

Dating at Fifty

I have a list of things I want to blog about but I'm going to guess that the subject you're most interested in... at least the one I would find most interesting is dating, so I'll start there.

In the midst of all the exhausting, humbling, terrible time that was my mom's last few weeks on Earth, I got a text from a guy I had dated before. His nine year old son had died in a tragic, terrible accident the day before and he wanted to let me know. His son, Nick, died on August 16. My mom would die on August 18. I got the text from my fella on August 17. Those dates are relevant for you to understand the intense emotional circumstances he and I were experiencing.

Marvin and I had dated back in early 2009 but... both of us were still legally wed, although we were not living with our spouses. It didn't feel right and... in retrospect I realize now that I was in absolutely no condition to enter into a relationship. His son was an infant. My kids were not happy with the idea of me dating anyone so... it just didn't work.

We sparked up again at the end of 2010... started chatting, etc then on January 18, 2011, my world completely changed when I woke up with horrible back pain. That was the beginning of this nightmare of physical pain that would eventually force me to go on disability and change EVERYTHING in my life. He came to see me once after the pain started but... I just couldn't begin to understand how a relationship with anyone would work while I was dealing with my new normal. He was the last guy I kissed for... many, many years.

Over the years I would see him post pictures with women he was dating and... not gonna lie... I felt jealous. As far as I was concerned I would never, ever, ever date again. I could not imagine a situation where anyone would want to deal with the restrictions I live with on a daily basis... making plans that you have to cancel because of pain... being afraid to go more than twenty minutes from home in case the pain becomes to much to bear and I'm unable to get back home... avoiding anything and everything that could cause pain. I drew a very close circle around myself and shut pretty much everyone who wasn't family outside the circle. I didn't trust anyone to be able to deal with me and my pain.

So when Nick died, I had spent the past month- maybe month and a half- learning to grieve. I was ready. I knew a lot of stuff about grieving... the death of an older, sick person. Knowing that a perfectly healthy child went off on vacation and came home in a casket was beyond any level of pain I could possibly comprehend. My heart just broke for my fella (who was not my fella at that time, of course). I didn't have much to offer him but I did have time and so whereas normally I would not have responded to texts or answered phone calls, I made a point of being one hundred percent available to him. By helping him, I helped myself because I had someone who I could talk to who understood where I was in a tragically real way. We talked and texted a lot. He came to my mom's funeral which, honestly, was the most precious, selfless thing I could possibly imagine. He had Nick's funeral to attend the next day but he made the effort to be there for me. We weren't in a relationship, of course, at that point, so it was basically just a few minutes of chatting after the service and then I had the family stuff to do but just seeing him there... that was one person who was there purely out of concern for me... he had never even met my mom. It was such a precious thing to me.

I can't really say for certain at what point along the way I began to see us as a potential couple and not just two really broken people talking each other through a really painful time. We have tried to figure out what our "anniversary" is and the closest we can determine ... September 16th he came up to see me. We watched football and talked and... you know, hung out together... so it was somewhere between August 17th and September 16th that we decided we might like to spend time together. He came up again on September 30th and... same thing, basically.

I think it was the first or second week of October that I started going up on Tuesday nights for date night. Due to his work schedule, his weekend is basically Wednesday and Thursday so Tuesday night in his world = Friday night for most folks. He lives about 45 minutes away so... I can drive down and back in the same day if necessary but... we're grown ups so I usually stay overnight. I think we have kept that midweek date night fairly consistently ever since October. There have been a few exceptions where I came on Wednesday instead of Tuesday... and at some point it expanded from just Tuesday night to Tuesday and Wednesday night. Basically, though, that's the time I have set aside for my fella every single week and woe be unto any human who tries to come between me and "date night". It's essential for my mental stability.

**Disclaimer** I asked my fella if he wanted editorial control over any blogging I do about him, us, our relationship, etc and he said, "no.". He's a relatively private person and I would rather cut off my left arm (I'm left handed) than do or say anything to hurt him so believe me, blogging about our relationship has been something I've put a lot of thought into over the past few months. I do think that our relationship is unique for a lot of reasons that I'll go into in future blog posts and I think it might be interesting for those who might be entering the dating world as a more mature person... or a less-abled person... or a person who is dealing with grief and therefore a little more vulnerable than the average person. I think what we do, how it works for us, etc. is worth sharing and I'd like to do that if you're interested. I'd like to explore topics that are unique to more mature folks... and to explore the ways that dating is the same, no matter what your age!

For now, I'll just say that I'm having a great time and I really appreciate having a significant person in my life. He's a good man, he treats me well, he puts up with a lot and I think most of you would approve!

Welcome Back!

If you're reading this post it means that I have decided to start blogging again! Before I post this I want to have a few blog entries ready to go so... it may go up today (May 6th) or it may be significantly later! I updated a few things in the side bar but this page needs a drastic overhaul. It's going to take some time to get things fully up and running so lets just say we are currently under construction.

My blogging hiatus had a lot to do with the current political climate in our country (the United States, just in case you don't know exactly who I am or where I'm from). Things are so volatile and people take things so personally. There has been so much "people talking without listening" to quote the song, The Sound of Silence. There's a level of vitriol and a lack of empathy that doesn't jive with my non-confrontational personality. It became frightening for me to speak my heart openly because I felt like any strong opinion one way or another could be offensive to someone I love on one side of the argument or another. While my fella likes to "poke the monkey" (as he likes to say)... I don't. I'm a lover, not a fighter. I like to bring folks together and that just wasn't happening.

My blog style has always been sort of a daily mind dump... whatever was on my mind that I could share (without telling stories that weren't mine to share), that's what would make up the meat of my blog. Then all of a sudden I couldn't just say what I wanted to say... and I was also dealing with a brand new set of emotions as my mom's illness was progressing. Everyone wanted to argue about politics and I was in such a raw, vulnerable place emotionally that politics seemed trivial and ridiculous to me. I didn't have the emotional energy to have political discussion in the midst of things like making life or death decisions about mom's health. It was too much so I just shut down.

Once mom passed and that battle had ended, I just felt so stunned and ... alone. I didn't have words to describe life in those days and weeks. Fortunately, I had started talking to my fella and we both were in the same weird place of "what now?"and we were able to sort of fill in the blanks for each other. He was someone I could talk to without having to talk about things unless I wanted to and vice versa. We grew really close really fast and he is still the person I talk to about everything every day.

Losing my mom made me feel like I lost the one person on the planet who loved me unconditionally, who was there for me no matter what. I lost my safety net. As a woman without a life partner, my mom was the one who held me together when I was falling apart. Nobody else has the emotional investment, the inclination or the time to deal with "real Heather". My dad handles the financial stuff but not the emotional stuff - and he just doesn't get the pain and suffering involved in my life. Austin is good at the physical stuff like carrying in the groceries or taking out the trash but he will never have the magic cleaning and sorting powers my mom did. My sisters-in-law touch base with me periodically about how I am emotionally and that helps but they're both busy raising children and being career women and supporting my brothers. My fella is awesome at filling the empty hours. He is good company, he is a naturally positive (and funny!) person who is tender enough to shed a tear with me occasionally but he is also grieving and working and... not my mom. What I am is saying is there is no one who could ever take her place and there is still a big ol' hole in my heart that I don't think could ever go away.

I say all of that to say this: I'm not the girl I was before. Sometimes I'm more of a bitter brew than I used to be. I'm a bit rougher around the edges. I joke that my dad lost his filter when my mom died... but the truth is that I lost mine too. Some of the things I might not have said before because I ran everything through the filter of "what will my mom think about this"... I might just say now. She got a rotten deal there at the end and watching her suffer was the hardest thing I've ever lived through and I'm forever changed by it. In some ways I'm more sensitive to others than I could have ever been before and in other ways... I'm like, get OVER yourself!

I'm going to work on a few posts now so that you have a little something to look forward to. Once I know they're ready to go, I'll publish this bit. I'm going to need A LOT of encouragement! Let me hear from you... share my blog with people who you think might enjoy it. Ultimately, it's not worth it to me to expend the emotional energy of blogging if nobody sees it or responds or give a flying flip.

So here we go again!

Since I Last Posted...

Hello, old friends! I find myself alone in a quiet house and I thought I might bring you up to date on my life. I'm not sure how long this will be as I still struggle to communicate without tears. You just don't know how deep the hurt can be until you live it. We have passed the six month mark since my mom died. As sad as it was to go through the funeral and all that surrounded it, I've been surprised to find that distance does not necessarily equal healing. I almost wish I was still that naive lady on the day of the funeral... that girl didn't know yet what it meant to go six months without talking to her mom. I miss her so much. There are so many things I wish I could tell her, ask her, do with her... A video came up on my Facebook timeline today. It was my mom and I watching Cosy draw on my sliding glass window with chalk markers, practicing writing her name. It was the most basic of days but my mom laughs in the video and I realized how much I miss her laugh. I'm so glad I obsessively photographed and videotaped those last two years of her life... I was recording my grandbabies but also got so many memories with my mom.

But I don't want you to think that I'm in a dark place. I miss her, definitely. I think of her every day but I certainly don't cry everyday. There's a lot of happiness in my life right now. The babies are growing into such fun, amusing, adorable little humans. I still can't get enough of them! We have Cosy spend the night at least once a week and we have her a couple of days besides. I'm working diligently on potty training her and we have such great little moments while she's perched on the potty trying to make things happen. Oliver just got back from Disney World where he boldly went up to each and every character giving high fives and hugs and just living his best life. That kid is fearless! I see him about once a month and we FaceTime often.

I'm also still dating... in a relationship... I don't know exactly what you call it... with the guy I mentioned in the last blog post back in October. We tried to figure out what our anniversary date is but the best I can tell you is that we have been in constant communication since the day before my mama died. I spend a day or two a week with him and it's good. We have fun together. He is good to me in the way that you always hope will happen... but never has before in my life. I love him dearly and I'm so grateful for the role he plays in my life. He's a much more private person than myself so I will check in on Facebook on date night once a week but I don't really post a lot of stuff on social media about us because he's just not into that kind of exposure. We went to New Orleans together over New Year's and we made a trip to Tennessee a few weeks back. He comes up here every now and then but mostly I go down to his place because we get a bit more privacy there... and it's a nice break from routine for me. He works a lot but he's good about staying in touch with me throughout the day and it's a healthy outlet for me.

Health wise... as I had suspected there is additional damage to my spine that was confirmed by MRI. The radiologist thinks surgery is a good idea but my pain doctor (who has more extensive knowledge of my case) says no, not yet. The problem is that my spine has a degenerative aspect to it... stabilizing the part that is bad will only add more pressure to the other parts of my spine. So it's a temporary fix, at best, before new/additional/potentially more serious damage develops. My pain is sometimes horrible and restrictive and frustrating but I am doing more now than I used to and I feel like I have a good handle on things. Getting out and about with my fella does sometimes leave me a bit worn afterward but... on the other hand, he takes good care of me - carrying the heavy stuff, dropping me off as close as he can so I don't have to walk far, building a lot of rest time into our time together... so I get the bonus of a change of scenery without hurting myself. We are no closer to understanding my autoimmune issues than we were a year ago which is entirely my fault. I never followed up with the rheumatologist because there were just so many other things that took priority last year. I have a lot of migraines still. I have a lot of muscle pain and weakness. I have fallen a few times because my legs just don't hold me up. I have some really overwhelming fatigue and could/would sleep my life away if not for Austin, Cosy and my guy.

And the dog. Lord help me, I have assumed my mom's role of caring for that needy little dog. My dad spends as much time as he can away from the house - it's his coping mechanism - and that means that the dog who must have human contact or he will DIE (he thinks) is glued to me constantly. This is part of the reason I prefer to go to my fella's house... no dog. My dad is doing well, I think. He does tend to stay gone a lot but he did when mom was alive, too. The house isn't as tidy as it used to be. Pop has a lady friend but she lives an hour away so we haven't met her yet. I'd love for him to find a nice lady closer to home just because he would have company more often. I'm too much of an introvert to be sociable at home much and... I'm grieving, too. I need quiet time to myself - away from the dog - which only happens when Pop is home.

So that's a small peek into my life at the moment. I post periodically on Facebook, mostly photos and the occasional wordy status update. I post on Instagram, it's more my speed to the Insta-stories. I'm still waking up every day and giving life my best shot. I miss you all and wish I could commit to blogging more frequently but right now, I just don't have it in me. Hope you're all well! Love and hugs, friends!

The Next Chapter

What can I tell you about the fifty-one days since my mom died? We have grieved. We did all the things you do... we had a viewing and a funeral. We gathered with family and friends and celebrated her life. People were kind. We received cards and flowers and phone calls and messages and were just completely showered with love and compassion. By the way, do you know that if your loved one is cremated, the flowers from the funeral are brought to your house? We literally had flowers on every surface, standing in corners... we pulled them out of arrangements and put them in vases. We enjoyed the heck out of them but it was definitely a moment of ... "what are we supposed to do with all of these flowers?" The fridge overflowed with food beyond what we could possibly ever eat... and yet none of us really felt like eating. We went to sleep and woke up and she was still gone.

There is more work to do since she is not here. As a child - and even as a teenager - I would come home from school and my room would be spotless and my laundry would be done and folded and put away. It was like living in a hotel. My mom watched other people's kids and even though she had really busy days, our house was always clean and dinner was always cooked. In these years since we have been grown and moved out (and in my case, moved back in again) she cooked less but she still could see dust bunnies that no one else saw. She was constantly in motion... the minute Pop left the house the vacuum would come out. She would come in search of dirty laundry and dishes and could not rest until everything was tidy- both inside and outside of the house. Since she's been gone the house is less tidy. The litter box is cleaned less often and I only do my laundry once a week. Every little thing out of place is a reminder that she is gone... the weeds around the flower beds, the cat fur in various places, even a counter that needs wiping down... the things she quietly took care of all of our lives... they no longer are automatically done.

Some days the pain is suffocating. Some days I can't choke back the sobs and the tears fall in an instant. People will ask, "how are you?" and it reminds me that she's gone and although I'm ok, I will never be the same. I appreciate that people care but it takes me back to reality every time. Pop plays more golf and stays busy because it's so quiet for him when he's here. I take care of the spoiled little dog just like mama would, not because I like dogs... but because I loved my mama and I want her to rest easy, knowing that I'm doing my best.

Physically I hurt a lot more. I did some additional damage to my lower back in those last tough weeks of her life. I was scheduled for an MRI last Friday but I wasn't ready to deal with it yet. There's a disc that was bad and based on the symptoms I'm having, it may have gone from a hindrance to a surgical situation and I just don't have any idea how to go through that kind of health crisis without her. She was the only one who ever truly understood my pain and although I try to gently remind these guys I live with that I do have limits... they have never lived it so they don't quite get it. There have been a few times where I have tried to stand up and my left leg didn't work. Twice I've fallen because of it and THAT is scary and humiliating and frustrating. It reminds me that I HAVE to do things for myself now because mama isn't going to come down the stairs with dinner on the nights I don't feel like searching it out for myself. I've lost weight... about twenty pounds this year. It's not a healthy weight loss, it's from not eating some days and then on other days eating an entire container of ice cream and ridiculous amount of trick or treat candy. Wendy, my Aussie friend, you'll be happy to know that I converted the vase from the flowers you sent into a candy jar. We're all enjoying it. And by we, I mostly mean me and Cosy.

There was some baby mama drama in Austin's life that has... crossing fingers... resolved itself. On my mom's birthday the police were called both when we picked Cosy up from her mom's and when we took her back. That's a personal record for us. I just wanted to be with my sweet girl and there was a bunch of craziness going on. My heart was gripped with fear for my sweet girl and broken with grief and it was all just too much for me. That's probably been the worst of it for me. My mom always fought for me, prayed for me, shared my burdens and she's just not here for that any more. Pop gets it... and trust me, he loves that baby girl to pieces... and she has becomes Pop's girl. She cuddles with him and shares his meals and if Nana doesn't do what she wants, she goes and tells Pop on me. But my mom was the one person on earth that I KNEW loved my babies as much as I did. I could always count on her to be in my corner and it's hard being in that corner alone.

You know how people will fixate on some certain sign or symbol that their loved one is near? Like... a butterfly or a ladybug or .... whatever. We got these wind chimes from the church in remembrance of mom. They're not like the normal, metallic sounding chimes (those get on my nerves) instead it's a full, rich, deep tone like a bell gently ringing. When the wind blows I tell Cosy that Mawmaw is singing to her. She's learned to listen for it and it's so precious when she notices it first. Cody got a new tattoo with angel wings (because my mama LOVED angels - we have them all around the house!) and whenever anyone says "Mawmaw" Oliver will grab his dad's arm and point at the tattoo. Oh, how it breaks my heart that these babies will never remember her, that she will be in photos we show them and in the stories that we tell but they will never know how special they were to her. I want to write a children's book for the babies - Oliver, Cosette and my nephew Finn - with lots of wonderful stories about Mawmaw. I just haven't been strong enough to do that yet.

Grief is something you can't avoid. You must go through it. You can dry your tears and clean your face and go about your normal life but in those quiet moments, it is there waiting for you. You can't go around it. I have been gentle with myself, allowing tears when they come. I have been doing a bullet journal. It's sort of a cross between a planner and a diary. I do a lot of doodles... write quotes that I find particularly moving... write down a memory of each day... record pain and what triggers it. It's a cathartic outlet for creativity that helps me see where I've been in this journey. I try to keep a normal schedule and connect with the world outside our little lake house from time to time. I allow myself little indulges here and there...

There's one more thing that has helped me through this time that I want to share with all of  you who come here and read my blog and love me and support me and always wish the best for me. Two days before my mom died, a friend of mine lost his little boy in a tragic accident. He sent me a text on the day before mama died letting me know about his son and we started texting... both of us sort of lost in the kind of surreal, raw emotion that only such deep grief can bring. From the time I hurt my back until now I have had zero interest in being in a relationship with anyone. I've had ... interested parties, I guess you could say... but I've just never wanted to be a burden to anyone else. I've had to focus inward and gain an understanding of what my life was going to be. The last guy I kissed all those years ago (six years and nine months, roughly) was this guy. He was always sort of unfinished business in my mind but the time was never right for us. Until now. And now... obviously, I can't say what the future holds but right now is good. He came to mama's funeral even though it was the day before his son's. He's good company, he's kind and caring, he's patient and he gets me... the me that is living this next chapter of life, post-mom. I have no idea what it feels like to lose a child but I do know what it feels like to lose someone who is a vital, precious part of your life. So I laugh at his jokes and wait quietly when he doesn't feel like joking. We talk on the phone a lot and hang out when we can and it's just a nice, warm fuzzy, happy corner of my life right now for which I'm extremely grateful. It makes the well of grief not feel as dark and deep since there's someone standing in the cold water with me.

What happens next? So many of you have written me sweet, kind messages of encouragement. I feel like I joined a sisterhood of motherless daughters and I've learned a lot about what to expect from your experience. I'm so grateful for each and every one of you. We got through (barely) mom's birthday. Pop is going to Connecticut for Thanksgiving to be with my brother and his wife (who very sweetly invited me along but I need to be here with my babies and grandbabies and maybe my friend, depending on what he's feeling up to on that day). My nephew, who recently came out of the Jehovah's Witness faith is thinking about coming down for Thanksgiving to learn about our family's traditions. I hope he can come... that will give me the encouragement I need to do a normal Thanksgiving. Otherwise we might go for rotisserie chicken and stove top stuffing. I'm just setting the bar really low for the holidays, not trying to do everything like we did with my mom. Life is different. We have babies around so there will be joy, and I will celebrate in the way that feels right in that moment. My mom and I talked about an idea for stockings for this year and I'm excited to carry out the plans we had made. I have already bought some gifts that will remind people of my mom in a fun way (I hope it's fun, anyways). Life is different but life is good right now and I wanted to share that with y'all. Love and hugs!

My Mom's Death

I love reading birth stories. I can fall down a rabbit hole of birth stories and get lost for hours. In the past few weeks I have found myself more focused on death than life and have been really curious about those final days and hours. Honestly, if law enforcement got hold of my laptop they might start looking for a body... with Google searches like, "signs that death is near"... I haven't Googled "death stories" but I'm wondering if there's the same type of rabbit hole for death stories. I'm not going to look but if there is, I'll add one to it.

These past few weeks have been filled with so much emotion; raw, personal, really deeply introspective stuff. I would never want to relive this time of my life but I do feel to some degree that it's appropriate to share in this format. I hope you won't find it disrespectful but will get a glimpse of the wonder and magnitude of it all. I hope that those who loved my mom and were touched by her time on this planet will understand what an honor it was for me to be with her in her last days. Or maybe, you've googled, "signs that death is near" and maybe this death story will be helpful to you as you travel this road with someone you love.

I last left this story about three weeks ago. I've posted some stuff on social media since then but time has been limited and I've lived in a constant state of pain and fatigue in that time. Yes, Austin found a job... it's at a 140 year old General Store in our area, working in the deli. It's everything that his last job wasn't and nothing that it was. He's doing ok and I'm grateful.

My mom passed away on August 18, 2017 after a seven year battle with carcinoid syndrome that began with a neuroendocrine tumor in her intestines that metastasized to her pancreas in November 2015, and then last August it was found to be in her blood stream. I won't go into a lot of details on this type of cancer because I want to be specific about our journey not about the medical stuff. The important things to know are that it was the best type of pancreatic cancer to have which meant she survived longer than many people do with pancreatic cancer (although it was not even two years) and that this neuroendocrine type of cancer affects your serotonin levels in your blood which is why we lost mom COGNITIVELY about a month an a half before her actual death. For all intents and purposes we began to grieve the loss of relationship with her on July 4th of this year. We had glimpses of who she was after that but by and large she was... out of it... to put it plainly... from that point on. In many ways I feel like we are already a month and a half into the grieving process, honestly.

Because of her cognitive decline, the task of caring for her was, in many ways harder in her final weeks... but she was less aware of her situation which I hope made it easier for her. She lost her vision at some point in the last week or so. My dad became aware of it sooner than I did (and didn't mention it to me until I mentioned it to him which will tell you a little bit about how we processed things in those last weeks!). She developed a horrific patch of dead tissue on her tailbone which was probably the hardest thing for me to deal with in that I knew that every time we touched her (moved her, cleaned her...) it had to cause her terrible agony. Her skin around that dead tissue was literally like tissue paper and would just pull open with the slightest movement. Once that happened we no longer attempted to help her get up and down to the bedside potty. This was easier for us in some ways because by the last week she was unable to support any of her own body weight so that even though she had lost a good deal of weight... she was still very heavy to move, especially with my back problems. This was harder in that we had to change her which was really, really humbling. If you think it's hard to change a squirmy baby, it's a thousand times harder to change an adult who has no understanding of what you're doing.

In the last week or so of her life, the last six years or so of my life began to make more sense. If I had never had the back problems that disabled me, I would have been working, probably full time, and would not have been able to assist my dad in caring for her. I might have been in a relationship that would have been compromised - at least challenged - by the time I spent caring for mom. I would most likely have not been living in the same house and therefore around to lend a hand whenever Pop needed.

As the only girl in the family there were things that I chose to do so as to spare my brothers... but more importantly to preserve my mom's dignity to the extent that I could. This is true for the last month and a half of her life but much more so in the final week. There were also certain medications that my dad was less comfortable giving her that because of my own battles with pain, I had less reservations about. If this life... this life with chronic pain and the disabilities that has brought me... brings about no other good than what this Summer has taught me, then I'll still gladly bear that cross. All things DO work together for good for those that love the Lord and are called according to His purpose (Romans 8:28). Sometimes we never know what that good is. I will always believe that it was for this very season of life that we just passed through. As it says in the book of Esther, "for such a time as this".

We knew, once mom had developed the patch of dead tissue, that time was growing very short. Our hospice nurse (best hospice nurse that we could ever have hoped for!) had been working with us to interpret symptoms and signs as mom got closer to death. We could see her obvious physical decline. Her blood pressure was lower. Her feet were swelling and began to be discolored as her heart wasn't pumping hard enough to circulate her blood. She was communicating less and when she did try to talk it was very hard to understand her. Her food and water input was almost down to nothing, although we certainly gave it our best effort, even dropping syringes of water into her mouth. Last Wednesday, the nurse had said we probably were in the last 48 hours. While I was not anxious to lose my mom, I would never have wanted her to continue with the quality of life she had in the last month of her life. I believe in Heaven, I believed she was bound for Heaven and therefore I had hope that while we would miss her for the rest of our natural lives we would be reunited with her someday.

Many of you know that there is a sibling in our family that has been estranged from the family for the past several years. Many people have asked if we reached out to him in these last few weeks and the answer is, yes, we did. He has known about the cancer for the past two years and had chosen not to attempt to contact mom (or any of us, to my knowledge). I didn't really have contact information for him (they even moved without giving us a forwarding address) but he and his wife own a dance studio that has a website so I used the "contact us" option on the website to let him know that there was not much time left if he wanted to see mom. He chose not to. We notified him of her death and he said he was praying for us but he did not attend the funeral. We all have to live with the choices we make in life. Mom asked me at one point in those last weeks to "forgive _____". There's nothing to forgive. I harbor no bitterness toward him, only sadness for what he has missed out on and what his children have missed. Nobody ever loved a grandchild more than my mama... and I say that as a very involved, obsessed Nana... but I'll always be sorry that those nieces and nephews didn't get to know her as my children and the other grandchildren have.

Last Thursday, knowing that mom was probably in the last days of her life... but understanding that it has been a marathon, not a sprint, we went ahead with the plans for the day. Pop played golf... I spent time with Cosette while the sitter (who was also amazing) was with mom. This has been such an emotionally intense time. Two luxuries I always allowed myself were sleep, every night for at least four-six hours (which is not enough for a chronic pain patient, trust me) and the opportunity to get out of the house when it was practical. Bette cared for mom two to three days a week. She helped out with the laundry and basically offered to do anything and everything we needed her to do. She was great emotional support and just honestly gave great hugs. I tried to stay accessible while she was with mom, especially if Pop was playing golf and needed to completely disconnect, but I had no reservations about leaving mom completely in her care. That's what I did that day and in retrospect, I think those were the right choices for us. The following days were emotionally brutal and I'm glad we had time to catch our breath before then.

Friday morning I took Austin to work and went to the bank to deposit a check for Pop. I got to the bank five minutes before they opened and there was a line of people outside. I just thought... no way can I deal with waiting patiently in line... and I went home without going into the bank. When I came in the house, the nurse tech who gave mom her bath three times a week was with mom and let me know that mom had been struggling. She was panting hard, like she had been running and could not catch her breath.

From that point on I stayed with mom except to go to the kitchen to draw more medications into the syringes that we used to put medicine in her mouth (as she could no longer swallow pills). The nurse (whose name, ironically, was Heather) was in touch with the hospice doctor who kept advising additional medications to try to ease mom's breathing. Nothing helped. At some point Heather told me that anyone who needed to say goodbye needed to come. I sent texts to all the family members but we were all ready for her passing. My oldest brother came to the house and he, Pop, Heather and myself just stayed with mom, trying to calm her and reassure her. This lasted for almost two hours. Two hours of that really hard struggle to catch a breath. She fought every second of the way. Pop sat beside mom on a stool we had by her hospital bed until around 10:57. Mom took a deep breath and then stopped breathing. I turned to Heather and said, "Is that it?" and then mom again started panting hard again. Pop stepped aside and I took his place beside her. I held her face in my hands like you would a small child, trying to get her to focus and calm her breathing. I just began to tell her things like, "it's ok to go. your work here is done. you can rest now." A single tear rolled down her cheek and she took her last breath at approximately 10:59. I overheard Heather say, "she's gone" and then all the emotion in me just tumbled out. My sister-in-law Angie had come into the room JUST THEN and put her arms around me. I didn't realize until last night that she had not been in the room earlier... which is crazy because I knew at 10:57am who was there and I knew Angie wasn't there yet. Angie didn't know when she came in that it had literally just happened as she stepped in the room.

Anyways. The hospice nurse arrived and the nurse tech left. Things were happening. I sent texts out to the family. My brother in New York had wanted to be notified in person so the plan was to let his wife know so that she could go to his office and let him know. Austin wanted to know in person so I had to wait until the end of his work day. Angie went to her daughters' schools to tell them in person. I called my son in South Carolina and told him. We tried to keep it off social media until we had notified every family member (which didn't exactly happen but fortunately, Austin was in a place where the internet reception is poor). It was a flurry of activity but not really rushed, if that makes sense. We had sort of rehearsed and discussed this process over the past month or so and knew what needed to be done, in the same way you make sure you know the best routes to the hospital when planning for a birth. At some point I needed to introvert so I went downstairs and stayed downstairs until the men from the funeral home arrived to take mom away. Pop handed me the dog and shut my door but... I just needed to have the closure of seeing her leaving the house so I left the dog and went around the outside of the house to the upstairs and went in the house. Pop cautioned me, "I don't think you want to go in there"... because by this time about an hour and a half had passed... but I did, just briefly. Once the undertakers left, I went to see Cosy. I just needed to touch life. I played with Cosy for a few minutes and then came back home to wait for Austin to call to let me know he was off work. It was another THREE HOURS before he got off work. At some point I sent him a text and asked how much longer he was going to be and he says he knew then that she must have died.

And that was it. I'll write another post about the things that have happened in the days since she died. There is a whole lot of emotion involved and I think I've learned a few things that might be helpful to others. Thanks again for all your love and support during this time. I feel like I've just been wrapped in a warm hug constantly (in a good way) and I appreciate that more than I have words to say. Love and hugs, as usual!

Bed Alarms, Food and The Burning Bus

I wanted to write another post to get you all up to date but I'm so tired that it's hard to write intelligent words in sentence and paragraph form. My thoughts are more like... bed alarm... food... sleep...

Mom is not strong enough to stand up without help. We have a wheel chair for her and a bedside commode that reduce the distance she ever has to walk. However, she also is mostly out of it so she will stand up for random, unknown reasons and try to get wherever she thinks she needs to go whether or not we're there to help. After a fall the other night, hospice provided us with a bed alarm, I refer to it as the "tattle tale". It's helpful in that it will allow us to sleep nearby or go in another room and know if she's trying to get up. The downside is that the bed alarm goes off all the time because she's trying to get up.

Our wonderful hospice nurse explained it as "terminal agitation". People who are in pain, nearing the end of their life will get random bursts of adrenaline that allows them to be much stronger than their physical condition should allow. Trust me, I am probably double my mom's weight at this point and if she's determined to get up, I cannot keep her from getting up. Last night it was because she was on a bus that was on fire. I am not sure when the bus caught on fire because when Angie was sitting with her earlier yesterday, it was just a plain old bus, not a burning bus. In my sleep deprived, pain addled brain I kept turning the burning bus into a burning bush and trying to make some biblical connection. It wasn't a bush though, it was a bus.

This is all sweet/sad/exhausting at the same time. We're so grateful for these last glimpses of her imagination and creativity and personality. We're grateful for every tiresome, exhausting minute. My dad has the worst of it because he is with her the most. I try to be there to help as much as I can but the harsh reality is that my back didn't miraculously become healed because my mom got sick. I've supported her tiny body far more times in the past week or so than my fragile spine can handle. I'm in a world of pain... there are times when I just literally canNOT function any longer.

There are also times that it becomes mentally draining. She gets stuck in a loop where she will repeat the same thing over and over and over again. We try to reassure her... like this evening when she was SURE that Pop was giving her the wrong thing to drink. No matter how many times we assured her that all that was in her cup was water, she kept telling us it was the wrong drink. The other day she stood facing the bedside commode for ten minutes answering the imaginary phone and trying to get me to come to the phone. I kept telling her I had it that she could go sit down. Eventually I think she just gets worn out.

She does sleep. Lots, thank Heaven. She's on a pretty stiff cocktail of medications that make her lethargic. As much as we enjoy these last glimpses of her personality, we also enjoy the quiet moments where we're not having to convince her to sit back down every thirty seconds.

We've had a lot of visitors, both friends and family and medical personnel. There's a knock at the door many, many times a day setting Oscar the dachshund off in his deafening barking alarm. We're grateful for the love she has been shown and the wonderful medical care she's receiving. We're also quite grateful for the many, many amazing meals that have been brought for us by the ladies from the church. We are eatin' good lately. Pop and I will have to go on a crash diet once this is all over. Honestly, I may just hibernate like a bear for six months or so, live off the fat of the land for a bit. It seems like every food delivery comes with batch of brownies. I've sampled so many different variations of brownies, each better than the last... that I could write a brownie cookbook. (not complaining, keep them coming!) It has helped so much to not have to think about what we're eating for dinner... or lunch... or breakfast.

As an introvert the constant parade of folks does wear on me. I'd never turn away a single one because it would be selfish to not allow people to pay their respects to her for both her sake and theirs. I do occasionally disappear to my space to recharge my batteries a little bit. People who come here are sad for her and for us. It's an obviously difficult time and her appearance has changed as she has lost so much weight. I recognize the shock in peoples' eyes. I'm sad for them, I grieve with each and every one even if I can't allow myself the luxury of tears right now. There is too much to be done. Crying triggers migraines for me. I have to pace myself. There will be a lot of time for tears soon enough.

Pop and Bubba (does that sound redneck enough?) went down to the funeral home the other day to make her final arrangements. She will have a viewing and then a funeral service and then be cremated. The only thing we weren't sure about was whether to purchase a plot for the inurnment (putting the cremated remains in the ground) or if we would keep/scatter her ashes. I'm on Team Scatter. I don't see a point of a fixed spot in some sad cemetery. We are her living legacy and we will all continue to go out into the world honoring her far more than a piece of ground with some plastic flowers. I'm also not a fan of the whole viewing process. I can't stand when people say, "doesn't she look natural?" Nope. Not at all. She looks dead. I don't want to see her dead but I'm sure I will have to as I'm sure I'll be here when she goes. My favorite funeral flowers ever were in the shape of a phone with the words, "Jesus called and Mawmaw answered". Too morbid?

So I guess that's about it. My brother from New York will be here this weekend with his wife and baby. We're giving Oliver a small birthday party here on Saturday. There will be a bunch of us here and we have to eat and the babies always made mama so happy. She always worked in the nursery at church and ran an in home daycare. Then in her empty nest days she volunteered at the hospital with newborns. Having a party in the midst of all this may seem weird to some but it makes sense for us.

The days tick by and we just keep doing what needs to be done. We will do what needs to be done until it doesn't need to be done any more. Austin's still looking for a job. He's been helpful and it's been a relief not to have to take him to work and pick him up every day. I think that twice a day commute would have done me in. God's timing is perfect. He spent today getting my back porch cleaned up so Finn (my nephew) could play out there without hazards that Cosy is used to ignoring... but Finn may not be. We also set up a section of my living room as a play room and got the toys organized. It's my little happy spot for when the house feels too dark and sad.

Time for me to catch some sleep so I can sit with mom in the early morning while pop does his devotional. I'll try to keep y'all up to date. Thanks for your kind words and prayers and love. I feel each and every one of you holding me up, holding me together. Love and hugs back to you!