My Mom

Yesterday was the 3rd anniversary of my mom's death. I remember that day as a blur yet still pieces of that period are clear. It is as if my mind took snapshots of moments in that day.
I remember the first phone call I got. It was a paramedic from Portland, OR. It was sometime around midnight. I had gone to bed. I don't know if I was asleep but I know that the phone ringing at the hour had me instantly alert. This man was telling me that my mom had been vomiting during the day and her caregiver had called 911 because my mom had collapsed getting out of bed. He wanted to know if I wanted them to do anything for her such as IV fluids or transport her to the closest hospital. He said she had a POLST form and they needed to know how to proceed. Now my mom was a fainter from way back. She had passed out since she was a young girl. She did not do well in heat or long car rides. As she aged, she fainted a couple times under a hairdryer and several times just getting up from bed. The most memorable collapse was when she and my dad had visited us in Tallahassee FL. My mom had the flu. I was sleeping during the day as I had worked the night shift. My dad called my name in a startled, concerned way. My mom was not responding from the bathroom and my dad had heard a thud. Her body was against the door so it took some force for me to open the door. Feeling no pulse I told my dad to call 911. I got her on her back on the floor to start CPR and she started to breathe. By the time EMS arrived, she was responding but her speech was slurred. They never did find anything wrong but my whole family knows that she was never the same after that event. Her memory was altered that day never to return again during this lifetime.
So back to the night of the phone call. I didn't know what to say. I didn't remember that we had switched my mom to comfort care. Did IV fluids seem extreme for vomiting? Was it "heroic"? I thought it seemed reasonable. Rather than make a decision I turfed the call to my sister. We decided to send my mom to the hospital for evaluation.
I did go back to bed. I know I slept off and on. Definitely not restfully. I spoke with Charleen on the phone a few times. I spoke with the ED MD. Charleen and her husband Bill had gone to the hospital, saw my mom. The decision was made to give her morphine because she was moaning and seemed to have some abdominal pain. Bill and Charleen went home to shower and prepare for the day, Sunday. Soon after Charleen got the call that our mom had died. I feel badly that she died alone. None of us thought that it would happen that fast. I like to think that her last image before closing her eyes for the final time was of her firstborn child being at her side whispering comforting words to her. I hope she didn't die feeling alone or scared. I am relieved that it was swift and seemingly painless.
I remember going late to church that day. By the time Keely and I got there, the sacrament had already been passed. After the service, I asked our bishop if we could still receive the sacrament, explaining why we were late. Keely and I were taken to a classroom in our church building. Pieces of bread and cups of water were prepared and blessed just for us. I had never felt the atonement of Jesus Christ so personally as I did in that moment. I felt grateful, loved, protected and comforted. The sacrament prayer seemed clearer than ever before. I understood Christ's sacrifice in a way that I could truly feel. I was truly amazed at the love he offers me.
When my mom died, I was mainly relieved. With her memory loss, life had been hard and frustrating for her. After my dad's death, I brought her from CA to Olympia,WA to live with us. One year later, Ken was diagnosed with stage IV rectal cancer and life started to spiral out of control. Soon life consisted of working full time, oncology appointments, raising kids, taking mom to appointments,being her caregiver, supporting Ken through his crisis, I stopped managing well. Too many balls to juggle if you will. So the decision was made to move my mom to an adult family home in Portland near my sister. She was in the first adult family home for less than a year and then we had to move her again to another AFH that we loved. The owner was tender, patient and sweet to my mom. She received good care but she was never happy there. Or when she had happy times, she could not remember them. Death brought peace. She was able to be reunited with her parents, sister and husbands.
So as I write this, I am crying. It feels healing. It is good to be able to relive that time in my mind. I barely had time to mourn my mom's passing when it happened because Ken's deterioration started soon after. He was placed in hospice 2 months after I lost my mom. I needed to concentrate on the living and the dying. Now I can say that I miss my mom.I am sorry that my kids never knew her as a crossword freak who could balance a check book like nobody's business. I know she would have loved the internet to research our family history. She was a genealogy sleuth before it was popular. She could cook an outstanding meal and organize to perfection. She always hoped that she would never lose her mind as her sister had with Alzheimer's. Her last years were not what she had hoped for. I know now that she is restored. Her mind is clear and functioning to her liking. She has been reunited with those that she loves. I am certain that she is happy. And for that I find joy.
Until we meet again Mom, I miss you.