Seeing my Mother through to the end was heart-wrenching. We all know what details I'm working with now, and the arduous task of emptying her apartment. Thankfully, Joan is by my side; she is the best detail person I know. Our daughter, Steph, we be here tonight, and the three of us are a team... we will get through this.
If you've read here for any length of time, you know I have an odd sense of humor; I enjoy the absurdity in day to day life and try to find the humor in all I do. I haven't found much humor in the past 10 days.
My Mother was a product of the Great Depression. We were poor when I grew up, but there was always food in the house... often not the "fun" food, like sugary breakfast cereals or soda, but we had canned goods. It is obvious that some of those traits are life-long. Going through cabinets, we found 25 cans of mushrooms. Her doctor told her to drink cranberry juice, and it comes in heavy bottles. Whenever anyone would take her shopping, she would have them pick up 4 large bottles of cranberry juice... just in case. There are a LOT of big bottles of cranberry juice here.
Yesterday, Joan and I went to pick up a few groceries. I asked what she needed, and she replied, "A few cans of mushrooms and a couple large bottles of cranberry juice." It was just the laugh I needed. We bought a couple lottery tickets, because that was Mom's routine. Yeah, just one number... same as Mom's years of lottery ticket experience.
She said a few things in the hospital that made me laugh out loud. Like trying to sell my book to the nurses. When a doctor asked her if she could see his finger while checking her peripheral vision, she asked if he could see "this finger." A nurse in the Stroke Unit told me that sometimes a stroke affects a person's inhibitions... I agreed that this must be the case. It seemed more proper than saying, "Don't get her Irish up."
Looking around the apartment, I see much work to do... and things that make me laugh and cry, often just a few moments apart. The stuff that was the little treasures in her life will go away, but I will carry the memories and the smiles with me always. She loved this apartment - the sunny bay windows, the views of kids playing in the church yard next door, and the fact that it was new when we moved her in here 7 years ago. It is much nicer than the old house in the tough neighborhood where I was raised. She was content. Felt secure.
During our nightly phone call, I always tried to have something to get a laugh out of her, and she often made me laugh. I know there will be more tears, especially considering the tasks at hand... but, laughter is healing.
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1 comment:
We share your chuckles and tears. We thanked God for Nellie's life at church today. Thank you for the chuckle about the doctor and the finger! Best Herb, Willie and Jake.
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