Mom's Service, Saturday, April 18, 2009

The grave to the right is Mom's Mother, Maude Madison Walker, Grandmother. Mom's request was to be laid to rest next to her mother. On the other side of Grandmother is Randall, her oldest son, Mother's older brother.





Leslie made all the arrangements including the service. It was extraordinary. Thanks Les.








Left to Right: Ann, John, Anita, Louisa, Ran, Brenda, Ruth, Leslie. Mary Lois wanted to come but could not because of her health. Not shown is Brenda's friend, Lillian, who took all of these pictures. Thanks Lillian.

A Personal Pause

I’ve been trying to go though containers from Mom’s at a rate of one per day. Occasionally, like today, I open one still too difficult to get through. These usually contain Mom’s photographs from years ago. Today, I ran into three in a row, and just could not attempt a fourth. I carefully bundled each as it was and left it for another day. What I hope to do is scan each photograph and place it online for all to have, but not yet, obviously.

This, too, might explain the various entries on topics far from personal. It’s all part of the holding things at arms length, which, based on past experience, lasts approximately thirty days. I am about half way to then. We’ll see.

Last Booking

The book mentioned in the previous post has been inscribed and placed in the Smith Phayer Hospice House. The inscription reads:

“I was honored to be the primary hospice nurse for Dr. Doris Cox. An avid reader, always with 2 or 3 books going, Dr. Cox was the first female Ph.D. in library science here in the United States. She is entirely responsible for getting me “back to the library” after a long respite! I first borrowed this book from her, because she was enjoying it so much. Later, Dr. Cox wanted me to have it. This book belongs here at Smith Phayer Hospice House—donated in her honor and memory: A very dear friend, a wonderful role model, and a fellow reader.” ~ Barbara Tousey, RN, CHPN

Lasting Precious Moments

When John went into Mom’s room a 3:30 a.m. to give her medication, she smiled at him, took a couple of more breaths, and left. In the last few days, this had been the pattern. She would take some juice, some liquid food, her medication, and we would assist her in turning from side to side. Each time she would say something: “I love you,” “That was good.” She looked us directly in the eye and smiled a smile that could only be described as pure love and appreciation. These are moments we shall carry with us forever. These are a great gift.

Les, too, spoke of such special moments he and Ruth shared when they were here visiting. She shared a moment with Barbara, her nurse and case manager in the first months of hospice care. The two had a special relationship, stemming perhaps from both being brilliant and professionally driven, plus both returning to school for advanced degrees as their children approached maturity.

I suspect that one last accomplishment Mom mentioned ten days before may well have been a book Mom wanted Barbara to have. The author had autographed the book, and Barbara had returned it or given it to Mom accompanied with a warm note Mom cherished. When Barbara had visited a couple weeks ago, we could not locate the book, so Barbara had not taken it. Barb was unable to return the following week as planned, but when Barbara did come back, the book was delivered and Mom relaxed.

Typical of Mom was guidance given others, often when others did not realize they were receiving it. It was a deeper level of communication that may not have been conscious to the recipient, but effective on a deeper, longer-term level. Mom had an almost unique ability to read people, easily analyzing how and why of their driving forces and self-impediments, then from her mentoring self, provide some queue that assisted the recipient in progressing.

Although the book was not especially extraordinary, I suspect it served as the tangible symbol of something deeper that Mom wished to communicate to Barbara—the encouragement and approving happiness for Barb's path and Barb herself. She saw Barb as extraordinary and wished to communicate that to Barb.

We have all received such gifts from Mom, even though we may not recall exactly what, and may very well not recognized them at the time. It is said the greatest kindnesses are those provided anonymously, and Mom was a constant fountain of such. If the greatest service is to be a good example, she succeeded both magnificently and better than we know.

We shall miss her, but through her gifts, she is still very much here.

Hokaheh, Hoka hey, Hoka hay

The Lakota have no alphabet, so any phonetic spelling is as correct as any other. The first was seen on a license plate prompting a question, sending me on this search. Her motorcycle plate spells it with a “y”. But what does it mean?

The majority definition states, “This is good day to die.” It was use by Crazy Horse to exhort fellow warriors to action. A different opinion was that it is in conjunction with the “good-day-to-die” statement, and means “Let’s go!” A finer shading indicates deeper, soul meaning, with the peacetime translation being “Welcome to the soul.” Eagle Voice, a Lakota Holy Man, told John Neihardt, biographer of Black Elk, it literally means, “Hold fast. There is more.”

It isn’t clear, so its user, the license owner, gives it the most meaning. She is a hospice nurse, who quietly talked with Mother, telling her all was well, that it might be a little tough getting there, but that where she was going would be fine. She told Mom to listen to her body, it has the wisdom of knowing what the mind sometimes resists. In spite of being hearing impaired, Mom heard every word, visibly relaxed, accepting and serene. Magic was happening there.

Later, the nurse told me she has studied seven years with the elders. When she came here to the mountains, she did not know that was to happen, but seemed to imply it was the inevitable reason for doing so. The meaning of Hokaheh, says she, is to live life in such as way that one has done all that one should upon one’s last day, so it is indeed a good day to die. After watching those moments with Mom and hearing this history of working with the elders, “there is more” and “welcome to the soul” are indeed within her definition.

Magic happens. I am blessed I now see it for what it is. Hokaheh.

Chris Visit

Chris was down for a visit. Mountain man seems doing well, except maybe in the hair department. John says he is just turning transparent.

See the two white bags with the green tags above the TV cabinet? One is marked Les & Ruth, the other Tina, Liz, & Dee. They are gifts from Chris & Teresa from Christmas. Being above eye level, I forget them, too, so if you are down for a visit, please, pick up your loot.

Last Watch

Mom is sleeping more, John and I less. Last night, John was emailing me at 01:49, about earthquakes in Indonesia. I was reading them at 03:20. Tonight, John has returned to Brevard; I am at Mom’s. I’ll try not to keep too close an earthquake vigil.

Mom is reposed and serene, usually a sign one is ready, without reservation. Today, Leslie and Ruth came by for a visit, and then went on. Tomorrow, Chris will visit, completing Mom’s request to see the four of us.

When driving down, I would notice the dried leaves tumbling in the high winds of today, thinking they were somehow a timely symptom, the last telling of a season gone.

Hers now, mine in time. I, too, am serene--with both.

Serene is “clear and free of storms or unpleasant change; shining bright and steady.”

She is.

Last Responsibilities

I am now involved in my last responsibilities. I can, of course, assume some additional ones before departing the planet, but don't intend to under expected circumstances. My brothers and I are now taking care of our mother, who can stay in her apartment rather than having to be in a nursing home. When she returned from the hospital in Summer 2007, it was not expected she would continue for more than a couple of months or so. She is, thankfully, still with us.

Initially four of us were regularly involved in her care, but two have families of their own, so had to decreased their involvement time. John and I retired to continue her care, and I am thankful we were able to do so. John lives with her during the week; I take weekends. John has a girl friend; I have no life. I have no objections to getting one; it just doesn't seem to be working that way. Working back shifts for a number of years, I'm used to it, unfortunately.

When mom-care was mentioned as my "last responsibility," Tina quietly, calmly chewed my ... in a manner any top sergeant would proud to have mastered. She really got to where I lived, or as Tina put it, gave me some "brutally honest food for thought..." Well done, Tinar. Basically, Tina pointed out that my communications and connections with my children and grandchildren could use some improvement, to put it nicely.

I do realize that there is a spectrum of items that I could constructively pass on, and I could use my strength in writing to do so. I have a large number of notebooks of pen-and-ink variety that I alerted a couple of the kids to, but better to pass this information on now, when intentional communication forces improved organization and clarity---not to mention they could ask questions without holding a séance.

The first venture into this arena was the essay entitled: Being on the Right Side. Although no one had immediate use for it, a couple of friends did. One, Skip, paid me an ultimate compliment when he told me, "You nailed it." Wonderful praise, and from Skip, even better. Hopefully, my children will eventually find the technique therein of great value.

The "lessons" intended herein are the second venture into my expanded last responsibilities. Hopefully, these too will be found useful, even if only to illustrate how not to do things and worth the discomfort I feel at times in uncovering myself. There are advantages to reaching an age of not giving a rip about others' opinions. Perhaps that comes from scar tissue. I read somewhere that God measures one's success in life by one's scar tissue. Hopefully, it is not discounted by how much one causes, but no doubt it is and justly so.

So, thanks, Tina. Know you have enriched my life even more, and hopefully the following will in part return the favor.

I warned that it would start seriously, so I shall attempt to make the next post lighter. Shouldn't be difficult since it is about two of my great disappointments in life.