Nov 18, 2014

All Saints Day and Daylight Savings Time Ends

On Sunday, November 2, right after I posted my Halloween Tale on this blog, I closed the laptop and drove over to my mom's to check in with her for the day. I had planned to change her clocks for the end of Daylight Savings time and see if she was feeling any better. It was 9:30 a.m., and people in church were celebrating All Saints Sunday.  I knew I didn't need to go over any sooner, as mom usually sleeps in until 10:00.

 I walked into her spacious one level home where I moved her in November of 2010 and could hear the TV on in the living room.  I didn't see her sitting at the kitchen table, and at first glance into the living room, I didn't see her in her recliner or laying on the couch.  I assumed she was down the hall when I glanced at her dressing chair.  The sight that met my eyes is not one I will forget anytime soon. Finding her unresponsive, I first dialed half of the numbers to my house then hung up and dialed 9-1-1 instead, and THEN I called my husband.

The next couple hours are a blur of activity--questions, dry mouth, and an upset stomach (that would last throughout the next week).  Rescue personnel moved about quietly doing their job of assessing the situation while one member was appointed to make general inquiries at the same time offering his condolences. The officer on duty was in and out making phone calls, taking obligatory photos, and sliding a slip of paper in my hand with the name of the "M.E." on call.  In between the moments of unbelievable organized chaos, I would go to mom's side and lay my hand on her arm while apologizing for not being there, as I waited for tears that wouldn't come.

My husband arrived and comforted and consoled as best he could then began making phone calls to family behind a closed bedroom door.  Not long after, a funeral home representative appeared and requested that I step out of the room while they "removed the body"...all the while promising to... "take good care of mom."

I was supposed to have "taken good care of mom"...and I had for four years.  I had made multiple trips to her home every day.  I had gotten her groceries, prepared meals, done her banking, laundered her clothes, brought in her mail, unclogged her toilet, posted her letters and bills, sat and visited with her, watered her plants, took out her garbage, entertained her guests, secured a home health aide, driven her to appointments, responded to her anxiety attacks at all hours, fixed her printer and internet issues, and a myriad of other tasks so routine I can't even remember them now.  How could my 24/7 life of taking care of mom be over just like that, and what could I have done differently?  As her daughter, I should have been there when it was "her time to go."  As her caregiver, why didn't I recognize the end signs of decline sooner?

Wandering around in a fog of shock and despair after everyone had left, I started one project after another, not finishing anything.  It would be at least three hours before my sister would arrive and the reality could set in. By the time my mother-in-law arrived to check on me, I was curled up in ball on the couch with mom's bed sheet wrapped around me inhaling the medicinal scent of Aspercreme and finally giving in to the deep, body-shaking sobs of sadness.  The dishwasher was open and partially loaded, the washing machine had a few towels thrown in, there was food on the counter I had taken from the refrigerator to be disposed of...and a void left by mom's absence so big that everything else just seemed pointless.

Beating myself up over the should have's and could have's might have sent me into a major downward spiral if I had not been allowed to see a very miraculous vision.  Approximately 24 hours after mom passed away, I was lying in bed willing myself to fall asleep.  What happened instead was nothing short of an amazing spiritual occurrence...

2 comments:

  1. Oh Deb, I am so very very sorry for your loss... my thoughts are with you.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Thank you, Dakota. I still can't believe she's really gone. There is so much to do...I'm just going through the motions right now.

      Delete