A New Season

The first day of Autumn was ushered in this week.

This official declaration of a season change prompted a call to the florist shop. I ordered an arrangement of silk Fall flowers for mom and dad's grave. "So what?" you say.

This is a relatively new ritual in my life. As I was growing up, I honestly don't think we EVER visited a family member's gravesite just to visit or to decorate it up. If another family member died, we might meander over in the cemetery to see where another family member was buried, but that was it.

But when we buried Dad here in Glen Rose and Mom came to live with us, we'd go every now and then to visit Daddy's gravesite. For that one year that I was able to take mom, we'd take a small seasonally appropriate silk arrangement each season.

As I'm reflecting about it right now, I'm not quite sure how Mom felt about it. I would just suggest our going, and of course, (Those of you who knew her personality so well understand completely!) she would never say, "No, I don't want to." I can imagine her being OK with going, but feeling a little guilty (?) because Daddy would never have expected her to or maybe even approved of our going. He was very matter-of-fact about death. Dead was dead. Dead was gone.

To put that in a bit more of a perspective, he did have both a sister and a brother die while he was still a kid. But I've been told (by Mama) that he never even looked at his own mother's dead body. I think people worried about him because of that. I've been told that psychologist say that kind of behavior is an indication that a person never fully accepts that the loved one is gone. I don't think that was the case with Daddy. He accepted death and dealt with it very matter of factly. He never felt a reason to apologize with dealing with emotional issues in the way that suited him best. ...and, yes, sometimes his way of dealing with things was a little less than considerate of the ways that others dealt with them.

In contrast, Bob's mom (and her sisters) had a completely different take on visiting gravesites of family members. She would visit Bob's dad's grave on or around every significant holiday with flowers. Parents' graves would be visited regularly, too.

Anyway, all that meandering to say that I've kept up the little exercise of placing flowers on the grave of my mom and dad each season this past year. My reasoning? It just seems a respectful, peaceful thing for me to do. (and I know that the proximity of the cemetery to the house definitely is an issue!) Even though it's not physically Bob's mom's gravesite, the flowers are for her, too. I may never travel to Houston to put them on her actual plot, but these flowers evoke good memories of her, too.




This little seasonal exercise helps keep the circle of life in perspective for me, too...not in a sad way, just an "in-awe" way. (Ever heard of the Seasons of Life?!) We are expecting to welcome 2 new babies into our family within the next 6 months! What a blessing to be a part of their heritage!

And, yesterday, as I went out to place the flowers, I could see where a new grave had recently been dug. That helps to keep me aware that as I have many reasons to rejoice, there are others in this world--in my very community--that are hurting. I want to be Christ's heart and hands to reach out to them in all seasons.

One Year Ago...

One year ago today Bob and I were making final preparations for a trip to, Washington, D.C. Neither of us had ever been, the kids were after us to get away, and we wanted to do a last "fling" before we "nested" ourselves in for Mom's last days. A reason to celebrate: About 6 weeks before, Mom's prognosis for her Stage 4 lung cancer (which had been diagnosed the previous November) had changed from a couple of months to a couple of years! ...good doctors, good medications, and a gracious God....

I resigned from my first grade teaching position and we were readying ourselves to live the next few years to their very, very fullest.

So, part of our preparations for our departure included getting Mom nestled into Glen Rose Medical Center Nursing Home (where she had previously stayed after a bout of pneumonia for a while). She would enjoy those "hotel" accommodations for about a week while we enjoyed ours in the Eastern United States.

So, late the evening of August 12, 2009, only after being home a couple of hours after spending several hours getting Mom settled into her temporary quarters, I received a phone call from the GRMC-NH that my Mom had fallen and that they had taken her to the emergency room at Glen Rose just to check things out--just to be on the safe side.

Seems like my very-independent-Mama had decided to put herself to bed (She didn't want to bother anyone.) and had slipped and fallen while trying to get a pillow situated and getting her Sonic Diet Coke within reach. (Yes, she, too, was an extreme fan of Sonic's drinks! --and another trivia fact: Southwest Airlines refunded all of our air fare!)

The ER examinations revealed that Mom had indeed broken her hip. Dr. Julia Hutchison was her doctor here and she recommended that Mom be sent to a facility that had a pulmonologist--a place that was able to monitor and treat all her lung conditions as well as her fracture. So we took her to Cleburne's hospital so that she could receive the special attention she needed while getting her orthopedic issues cared for.

(I will just go ahead and say that we were not very satisfied with what went on at the hospital in Cleburne. Most of it boiled down to communication issues, I think. I did receive the satisfaction of voicing my concerns to the president of the hospital board...and it reality, I honestly do not think that any of this would have altered the final outcome of the 10-day journey we would make with my Mother.)

With that said, Mom's surgery did not occur until Sunday, (Yes, they did surgery on Sunday!) a full 4 days after her break. During those few days of waiting, though, it was determined that Mom's heart was functioning at only 25%. Evidently, she had suffered a heart attack at some point, of which we were not aware. We were actually mentally prepared (or as much as you can be) for her not to make it through the surgery; or at best, to never be able to be weaned from the ventilator.

God was good. She made it through surgery like a champ and came off the ventilator the very next day. The respiratory therapist worked with her and got her auxiliary O2 levels back down to an acceptable level. A local (Cleburne) oncologist from Texas Oncology had visited her and she had resumed her Tarceva therapy. Her brothers and sisters were able to come from San Saba and visit with her in the ICU at Cleburne...(I need to get the picture of all them together that Joe took on his phone...) Things were much better than we had ever hoped for.

Then, this is where everything gets a bit fuzzy. She was moved to a regular room (a separate bad story...) in the wee morning hours of Wednesday, August 19 and things started sliding-downward like crazy. She was having terrible trouble breathing and was very anxious. (We were told it was the emphysema-type thing, where one could inhale, but had difficulty exhaling.) She was dosed with Ativan and the auxiliary oxygen levels kept increasing. They were staying in the double-digit range.

So, then, (why?--I asked hospital personnel then and later, too.) it was decided to transport her back to GRMC-NH via ambulance-type transportation on the evening of Thursday, August 20. Of course, a mobile unit is not set up to transport people at that high level of oxygen use and had to stop mid-trip to hook her up to another O2 tank. Bless his heart, the respiratory therapist at GRMC practically met us at the door to care for Mom. I believe his name was Scott. He had come to love Mom through her stay in the hospital during the Fall of '08.

Nursing homes are not equipped to handle people with that high percentage of O2 delivery, either, in case you wondered. Scott sent her back to the ER at Glen Rose later that evening where she had to receive a tracheotomy. The decision was made to transport her to Harris Methodist (Texas Health Resources) in downtown Fort Worth. (We were not going back to Cleburne!)

At the ER in Fort Worth, it was determined that Mom had pneumonia and was septic. With the added issues of her remissive lung cancer and a low heart function rate, a move to the Palliative Care Unit was deemed the appropriate step to take.

We kept her on the trach until all family members could get to Fort Worth to say their good-byes. (Children, grandchildren, and siblings were able to be there.) I don't remember exactly when everyone got there and when the trach was removed, but Mom hung around and listened to music and "danced" with us in her sedated state until around noon on Saturday, August 22, 2009. (Laura Story's "Mighty to Save" brought a wonderfully humorous story into our lives...maybe I'll tell it later.) Then she began her dance with Jesus and my Daddy.

Mom, we miss you, but can't really be sad for you. Thank you for loving us and for helping us realize we need to fully live each day, to find joy in each breath and to love as each day is our last. I'm not sure I ever literally danced with you here on Earth, (Church of Christ influence, maybe? :) but I'm imagining our Heavenly dance. Nice.