sometimes, not often enough...

sometimes being a mom isn't enough.  the best thing i ever did in life is had three wonderful kids.  now they are all adults, have their own lives and i have only me.  today i'm entirely disappointed.  i have no one to talk to about something important.  and although the kittens seems to understand my depression and tears, they can't talk back.

it's been just over 2 years since my last post....

not much has changed,  yet so many things have.  I hope to start posting, at least for myself.

expendable

sometimes, often really, i feel expendable. I have often described my relationship with my son as "leftovers". It's what I get after everybody in his life takes their time with him and I get the leftovers. What this means is that I don't see him often. The part that really hurts is that it's his choice. Somehow I'm not supposed to take this personal. But I ask, how can I NOT take it personal.

I have now been put on "notice" by my sister and probably every relative, but my father. Well there is one who has told me I'm still OK. I should be grateful.

I am now the only one in my grand daughters life who is not at the hospital waiting for her 2 a.m. surgery, she bit through her tongue tonight. I got the call at 8:45. I was told that I would be called later.

leftovers......

why am i so freaking expendable. why do i not count. why am i not included. i guess i'm having a pity party, but it hurts to the core none the less.

i must remember, i am on my own.

she's gone

it's been almost 5 months. Mom passed on September 6th in the afternoon. On Aug. 26th she woke up making the oddest noise. It was so odd i ran into her room, she was reacting with all her body. She was looking as if she was seeing something evil. I paniced, called 911, that was not in the plan. Mom was so specific about NOT calling 911. I did, then i called my sister and told her I had screwed up. She told me I did the right thing. I was supposed to be my day off and I called the sitter to tell her not to come. She is a retired RN, who has become my close friend. She insisted on meeting me at the hospital.

I went over and over what had gone wrong. Did I feed her something she had a bad reaction to?? Did I feed her something new that was wrong? I kept almost everything organic. She was doing well. She was even humming the week before. She had not done that in a long long time, at least 5 years I know of. She was not hot or cold. Her bowels were working well. Her skin was good. What had I done wrong.

The doctors asked more than once if she was on meds. The answer was always no. She could not communicate, could not tell them if it hurt, and I couldn't tell them either. There was NO sign. Just that look. It was like the look in the movie Ghost, when the demon's come for the bad people. I was selfish, I didn't want that to be the last way I remembered her. I NEEDED her to get better so that i could take her home and make her even better. The hospital said she was in good shape, not a bed sore for being in bed for 3 years. She had an IV, that was not in the rules either. It was sepsis. It didn't really get better. Four day's later, they gave me the hospice talk. She was not going to get better. I called Diane each day. For whatever reason, I felt alone. Each decision was hard but easy to say because she already said what she wanted. It's just that, I knew that this moment was coming, just not now. There were blunders in the hospital. I wrote them in my journal. It was time to take her home to die.

I thought that this is how it should be for her. She won't die in a hospital, or rest home. She will die in MY home. HER room. I won't take my eye's off her. I slept on the floor. I couldn't leave her side

The doctor told me what I might expect. He was as close as could be. I had read things, blogs, books, hospice booklets, talked to people, but this was it. This was it. She would come home unable to even drink, no IV (her health care directive) and just her two daughters and a friend who I had reconnected with, who had been through this with several family members. Diane had been a hospice CNA for years, they would know they would help me.

I brought her home on Sept 1st. Tyler's birthday. Diane and Patricia came on Sept 2nd. My birthday. Both said that she looked good, but it would be anytime. There just wasn't anytime left. They were here so I filled the morphine prescription and came home. This was more emotions than I knew what to do with. But, as taught, I didn't let it show.

I called my son Camren who my mom had a lot of influence on in California. He was a 6 hour drive but didn't come to say good bye. Nicholas was here, and said his good byes. The next 3 days are a blur, there were horror stories told to Patricia about our growing up, as they were told I could see how different my sister and my recollection of the past was. Not that we wanted to tell them, they just started coming out. Words were said feelings crushed and mom needed morphine.

The only thing I could do per her directive was to "moisten her lips", I was dutiful. The thing that was so hard was the inability to give her something to drink. We swabbed her tongue. We wanted to do so much more.

We sang her favorite hymn's. Did her hair. Put her in a black shirt that made her look so Audrey Hepburn like. I had cut her hair a few days before going to the hospital. She looked good. It's just that she was dying. It took me a day to realize that she didn't need to be rotated. There would not be time for bed sores.

Diane and I had talked months before what to do when it happened. We weren't going to tell anyone. We have our reasons. We knew that there might be hurt feelings but we knew we had to protect her, even if it were just her memory. That was probably the hardest to carry out. I'll keep the reasons off the internet. If you want to know, just ask.

We prayed that she would not die on my birthday, it passed. We prayed that she would not die on Diane's birthday it was here and she didn't look good. It was time, her little mouth was so dry, we couldn't make it better. Diane said that she wanted to anoint her with oil. I said that I would make a call so that it would at least have the proper person doing it. She said ok. Mom had a blessing of passing at 11pm on Sept 5th. Diane's birthday. She was doing well. She was ok all night. The next morning she looked good.

I wish I could remember if it was this day the 6th OR on the 5th. But daddy called, or we called him, either way, I asked him to talk to mom. I asked Diane to put the phone to her ear as I was across the room. I wish I had video of that. She lit up, smiled, it was a voice she knew. It must have been comfort. I asked him to call her Queeny like he always did. It was so great!! I thought THIS is what I'll remember.

For whatever reason, I turned on the computer in that room, I was looking for pictures that I had downloaded when she first came to live with me 5 years ago. I found them. I wanted Diane to remember how she looked then and Patricia to see her when she could communicate and be almost normal. I found a short video, she was sticking out her tongue, I was holding the camera and she didn't know I was taking it because she didn't hear the clicks. She was great. Perhaps I'll post it when I can figure how to do it. She smiled really really BIG and that was it.

so much to say, but i can't

so that leaves me in an awkward place.

how much can she hold

she starts the day with an ensure and today she drank it down. And lunch was oatmeal with fresh strawberries. This is not how much she eats, just think about a third more. The wonderful angel that helps me once a week says she is amazed how much she eats. About a 1/4 of what I feed mom is normal. Marilyn is an RN with many years o knowledge, so I defer to her on these things. The problem is, she takes so long to eat. Sometimes up to an hour. She chews about 60 to 100 times per bite. That also means that she eats cold food. Often I keep half of it in the pan to keep warm. I have elected NOT to have a microwave, I don't like them. So everything is heated on the stove, but think of it, those who have microwaves, after the third "warm up" the food becomes leather. This way the food stays better. I have discovered the secret of keeping the oatmeal warm. DON'T stir it after it's ready, it gets a kind of coating and keeps all below warner. Besides that's her favorite meal. How do I know? She eats it fastest. For me that means 30 mins. For someone else and hour.

We are taking an adventure in herb teas. This month is wild berry zinger. Iced. It's the best so far. So tonight it's the rest of the tube from yesterday broken up in organic eggs. I think giving her as much organic food as possible helps the "system". The home that she was in stated that she would have to have soft food from now on. They were wrong, and she eats 100% every time. Yes i know, it's because I can sit with her for as long as it takes, but she does eat it all, and I'm pretty darn sure that it's because my food is much better. After all, with all my jobs, I an say that i'm a bit of a gourmet cook. Also, I only use the good stuff, like real butter, i grind the pepper and salt. Some may find that part of care not so fun, but I love it, otherwise i could say, bitter, party of one

sausage in a tube

so much to say, and no time at the moment. It was a temp. lapse of judgement, good or bad I'm not sure yet. BUT, with that said, she ate it like a champ. In real life she, she would have loved it. So, I'll go with that.

And thanks Tom and Jackie for encouraging me to keep this up. Otherwise i could say, bitter, party of one.

by the way, this is mom now and the charcoal drawing behind her is, well, her. 1955, Knocksberry farm. IT's my utmost favorite.