Grieving Mom – For the Oddest Reason

My Mom died in 1998. It will be 20 years this summer. There are days when I really miss her. Today is one of those days and for the oddest reason. Bon-Ton is going out of business. Why would that make me sad and miss her so much?

My Mom worked at one of the many department stores owned by Bon-Ton. She loved her store. She worked in the fine china department, it was her baby. I went to my local Bon-Ton store today, (one she never even stepped foot in) and all I feel is dismay.

There are things just piled in heaps, garish signs hanging every where and in the middle of a Wednesday not all that many people. I am so glad she is not here to be part of this. It would break her heart to see something she loved going down in flames.

Then I watched the Christmas episode of Kevin Probably Saves the World and they were playing the song Christmas Eve 1913 by John Denver. I cry every time I hear this song anyway and today it was just the frosting on the cake. If this were a piece of paper the ink would be running so much from my tears you wouldn’t be able to read it.

Silly I know; a store I don’t shop at much because it is so expensive and a TV show that has been cancelled. The closing of the store is sad for so many reasons: the loss of jobs, the loss of aspiration, the loss of shopping, etc. Bon-Ton was expensive. It was one of those places people aspired and worked towards being able to afford to shop there.

Kevin Probably Saves the World is just a nice show about someone doing nice things for people. I like it. I know not that many people do – obviously because they cancelled it. But for what is was they did a good job and the message couldn’t have come at a better time. People are so mean these days.

But the combination of wandering around the store and watching that show with that song has made me very melancholy. I have cried my eyes out. I am wallowing in my sadness for a little while longer. Then I will listen to the birds singing outside and enjoy my flowers and the sunshine and get on with my day.

I will always miss my parents. That is how you know they lived good lives. Because at odd times people remember and miss them. And my Mom and my Dad were good people.

I hope that when those random moments of grief for the oddest reasons happen for you, you take a moment to wallow in the feeling. Shed a few tears, remember your loved ones, and then pick yourself up and get on with your day. I am pretty sure that is what my Mom would want me to do. That is why I miss her even now 20 years later.

Happy thoughts for a happy day!

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Grieving Dad – A Party Called A Funeral

Once upon a time there were five little girls, they ranged in age from 6 years old to one year old. They were very much loved by their Mommies and their Daddies and all of the rest of their families. They lived in lovely houses that were full of laughter and love.

One day they all got to get together for a type of a party.  Now some parts of the party were very sad and some parts were boring and some were happy. This type of party was called a funeral.

The reason they had this party is their Great-Grandpa died. What is a great-grandpa they wondered? How could a grandpa not be great they wondered? Why was everyone sad, but at the same time laughing they wondered?

Let’s try to answer the questions so the little girls won’t have to wonder anymore.

What is a great-grandpa? A great-grandpa is a person who is their mommy or daddy’s grandpa. Just like your mommy has a mommy also known as your grandma your . . . you know what that is getting confusing. Let me show you

Great Grandpa <=> Grandma <=> Mommy <=> You

Your Great-Grandpa is your Grandma’s dad and your Mommy’s grandpa. Your Grandma is your Mommy’s mom. I hope that explains a little.

How could a grandpa not be great? I don’t know. You all are lucky because your Papas are all pretty great. There are just some people who are just duds in life and not even special people like you can make them better. Luckily we don’t know too many people like that so you don’t have to worry about having a grandpa who isn’t great.

Why is everyone sad, but at the same time laughing? This is probably the hardest question to answer. You can be sad and happy at the same time. Especially when someone dies. When someone dies it means we will only be able to see them again in our memories, in pictures and in video. You can’t see them face to face or talk to them on the phone anymore. This makes people sad. When you go to a party like a funeral people get together to remember the person who died. They will cry because they will miss the person who died.

So why are people laughing? People laugh because they share stories about the person. Often times those stories are funny. It is ok to laugh and have fun at a funeral and it is ok to be very sad.

The nice thing about going to a party like a funeral is you get to talk to all these people who have stories about Great-Grandpa. You get to meet the people he knew and find out things that will make you laugh or make you cry. Both of those things are good things. Being remembered is one of the best things that can happen to a person. Especially if they are remembered for good things.

Your Great-Papa was and will be remembered for being a good guy who helped a lot of people. He did nice things for people he knew and people he didn’t know. I am very glad you all came to the funeral party and helped make it an extra special day.

Love you always!

GrandMia

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Grieving Dad

There is no one way to grieve the loss of a loved one. If you Google “stages of grief” there are 30+ million sites and of course none of them agree. Are there 5 stages of grief? or seven? or none? I don’t know. I just know that the way I feel it is different than the way my siblings feel it and is different than the way my kids feel it.

One thing we all feel is a hole. We can’t pick up the phone on Sunday or when we are driving or because we have news.  We can’t go visit for the weekend, we can’t, we can’t, we can’t. This isn’t the first time we have had a loss but this one . . .

We are now each the head of our families. Before we had Mom and Dad, then we had Dad. Someone we could look to for advice or just to point to as the center. Now each of our branches have a new trunk, five separate trunks. We are still entwined because we are family but each of us have to turn our focus towards our children and grandchildren because now we are each the center of our families.

In some ways it has fractured our bonds. We are all struggling to come to terms with our new reality. Some of us are doing better than others. As I said at the beginning we all grieve in our own way. I can’t feel what the others are feeling and they can’t feel what I feel. All we can do is have empathy for each other. And some days that is so much harder than you would think it should be!

My grief manifests in a mild depression, a funk especially around days like birthdays, anniversaries and holidays. There are days where I will cry and I find it very unsettling still that I can’t pick up the phone and call them. My Mom and Dad and then my Dad had the same phone number for 30 years. I have a couple voicemails on my phone from my Dad. I don’t listen to them very often. They make me sad. But I am glad they are there.

The five stages of grief are listed as: denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance

The seven stages of grief are listed as: Shock & Denial, Pain & Guilt, Anger & Bargaining, Depression & Reflection & Loneliness, Upward Turn, Reconstruction & Working Through, Acceptance & Hope

Looking at the two I think the seven stages are closer to how I would put it. I have definitely felt shock, pain, anger, and depression so far. I may even be slightly into the upward turn, somedays anyway, maybe not all of them, but more so than not. Not all of us are that far, and some of us have moved on to hope.

Eventually we will all get used to this new normal. We will remember the good times, laugh and cry at the bad and find the silver linings like our Dad did. I hope that we will anyway.

 

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Visiting Dad – The Final Chapter

My Dad passed peacefully. He was laid to rest on a gloomy, foggy, rainy day. The whole family was there. All of his children, grandchildren and most of his great grandchildren, plus his brothers and many of our cousins were there. It was a great weekend. He would have loved it. My Dad used to love a party.

I gave the eulogy at Mass. My brother C had some beautiful words about Dad and for us at the wake. I wish I had a copy of it. Here is the eulogy I gave:

First and foremost, before God and everyone I want to thank my sister and her family. Because of them Dad was able to live as long as he did and for the most part on his own terms. For that I am eternally grateful.

Son, brother, uncle, husband, daddy, grandpa, gpa, papa bern, great-papa, dammit V, friend, no matter what you called him we are here to celebrate his life. If you were to judge by the last few years you would think he had a pretty tough life. The last few years were a struggle but the 70 some years before that were a celebration of life. While writing this the line from Mark Anthony about Cesar keeps coming to me. I have rearranged it a little. “I come not just to bury Dad but to praise him.” As my cousin said “Dad got life.” Thank you cousin for passing that oh so apt comment on to us.

Our dad was an eternal optimist. He didn’t just see silver linings in clouds he saw gold. Good things were always just around the corner. He knew it, if he just waited long enough or tried hard enough it would all work out in the end.

We all have great stories about him. From the epic ping pong battles with his brothers and nephews, to his willingness to show up with a hammer and saw to help fix things. We remember his stories about the donut shop, walking on the rock river when it froze, riding cows, and getting lost with a truck full of ammunition while in the army. We look forward to hearing more of your stories about him today and in the future.

He was always willing to help out. We all get our sense of community and our need to help others from the example set by Mom and Dad. They did an awful lot of good everywhere we lived. Some things we know about – PreCana, building dugouts, helping at church. But did you know about the poor box? If Dad had anything extra it went into the poor box.

The Friday before one of my cousins wedding I got a killer migraine. He drove 2 hours to take me to the doctor. He sat in the dark for more than 6 hours and held my head while I threw up even though he had plans with his brothers. When I broke my leg after mom died he came up as soon as I called and took care of the girls while I was in the hospital. Many of us have similar stories.

Our Dad was an artist at heart. He was always sketching things. This is how the such-a-cards came into being. Each card was made especially for the recipient. Dad would think about and start gathering materials for each card months in advance. Hopefully you were able to see some of them yesterday.

We had a complicated relationship, he and I. I am his first born child, the prototype, and a girl. Growing up without sisters he didn’t always know what to do and as we all know kids do not come with user manuals. Plus for some odd reason all of his kids have this stubborn streak . . .

I wear red today because of an argument he and I had. I don’t remember what we were arguing about but in exasperation and probably just to get his goat I said “Fine then I am wearing red to your funeral!” and his reply was “You had better!” at which point the argument was over. 

We are here to celebrate the life of our Dad, who loved our Mom and us 5 kids, and 17 grandkids and 10 great-grandkids and who is loved in return. Thank you for coming to help us learn to live without him.

He will be sorely missed. Love and peace to you all.

M

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Visiting Dad – the long distance edition

I can’t see my Dad this week. My daughter needed me. She called, I travelled. Anytime one of my girls say they need me takes precedence over everything. I do feel bad because my Dad is not doing well at all.

It started Monday. My Dad has been feeling very anxious because he can’t remember things. Because of the anxiety he is not eating and is sleeping at odd hours and not for long enough. He is on anti-anxiety medicine but it is too recent to be completely effective.

I called him on Monday to let him know that I will not be visiting him this week. I had to be out of town. He sounded awful, didn’t know it was Monday, and I am pretty sure I woke him up (it was 10:30 in the morning). We are talking to Hospice to have them come in and help make him comfortable.

About 7:45PM Dad called me. He was very confused and having a panic attack. He woke up from a nap and didn’t know where he was. I had him push the call button and got the CNA to get the nurse for his medications. I also texted my siblings what was going on. He kept saying he was scared and didn’t know what to do. Luckily my niece A was in town and able to see him. They got him into his pj’s and to bed.

I talked to him on Tuesday and had a really weird conversation with him. He said people won’t leave him alone to get his work done. I asked what people and what work did he need to do. He said he told him to do the work  and now they want him to take out and change the information he took all morning to input in the system. I asked him what system and he mumbled something and got more confused. I told him it’s ok, the work can wait until later.

The Doctor says it’s time to call hospice. Wednesday B went to see Dad and he wouldn’t wake up. A says that Gpa says the Russians are helping him with his breathing treatments. I have no idea what that means.

This morning (Thursday) he called B. He was highly confused, told B that he is in bad shape (I think that is the first thing he tells everyone these days) and is ready to give up. It is so hard to hear. It makes my heart hurt.

My brother C is going to visit this weekend. We have discussed him telling Dad that it is ok to go be with Mom. None of us want him to suffer anymore. As B said “Honestly I’m kinda praying for it . . . I can’t imagine what he is going through in his mind.” I agree with her. None of us want him to go but none of us want him to stay with the way things are going.

My heart hurts.

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Visiting Dad – End of an Era

After 30 years a new family will live in my Mom and Dad’s house. I finished cleaning out and cleaning up the house yesterday. I had never seen this house empty. It was a bittersweet day; the end of an era for us. Empty houses hold such promise, I hope there will be lots of sweet for the new people and hardly any bitter.

I stopped in to see Dad before going to the house. He was sleeping. I stood there and watched him sleep for a while like I used to do with my kids. Unlike with my kids watching my Dad made me sad instead of happy.

Even in his sleep breathing is a struggle. He looks so small and the effort to move air is so hard for him. Part of the problem is he lays down flat to sleep. With as bad as his lungs are he should be sleeping sitting up. He has never been able to sleep that way, so he won’t.

I left after a few minutes and went to finish the house. There wasn’t much left and I had everything cleaned and loaded in my car before noon. I checked the house multiple times to be sure I had everything.

Once done I set my timer and sat down on the floor and meditated, remembering the fun times we had in that house. Remembering the sad times we had in that house and missing my family. I cried a little, I smiled at the memories, I left wishing the new owners all the happiness we had experienced and more.

I stopped in to see Dad before I headed out of town. His breathing was still labored and I was lucky that the respiratory therapist came while I was there. Because he was struggling even after using his rescue inhaler she had them give him a prednisone. He is to take it again today if he is still struggling.

He can’t be on prednisone all the time because of the side effects. ‘roid rage is a real thing. Sister B and I have been on the end of some of that and the staff at the home does not need to deal with that if they don’t have too.

Dad’s memory isn’t good. He has a hard time understanding what is happening. He forgets when he took his medicine, he forgets the names of the people who are taking care of him. It frustrates him that he can’t keep things in his head. It also makes him anxious. Brother G said he talked to him today and Dad sounded awful.

We are on the downhill slope. I am still hoping that it will be a gentle bunny hill but it feels more like we are heading down a mountain. COPD is a horrible insidious disease. It is robbing us of our father/grandfather/great-grandfather/brother/uncle.

There are times when all I do is feel. Everything feels raw and right at the surface. Other times I feel numb. Sunday I wanted to cry until I threw up. Yesterday there were tears but not as many. Today I feel rather detached from it all. That inertia is very hard to overcome. I know it is grief. We are all feeling it. I will write about my grief another time.

The end of the era of visiting at the house is over. I don’t know how long we will have with Dad but I am so very grateful for everyday.

Happy thoughts for a happy day!

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Visiting Dad – The Almost Last Clean up

I was hoping this would be about the last time I was at Gpa’s house. But . . . I have a lot of negative things I would like to just spew all over this page. But I am restraining myself from writing them. At least here, in public. 

Gpa’s house is almost empty. I have a few things to pick up on Tuesday. I was feeling very emotional on Sunday on our way to his house. So I want to thank the person for the anger and hurt to help power us through what had to be done. 

The intention was to finish everything on Sunday but I couldn’t fit everything including the garbage into my car so I will be going back and finishing up Tuesday. I need to load a couple things and clean up. Vacuum, sweep, load up the garbage that didn’t fit into the can and that will be that.

And that will be that. I am having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that when I go to visit my Dad I won’t be able to stay at his house. I am having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that my Dad lived in that house for 30 years and now we have done the right thing and sold it. 

Dad is having his ups and downs. When we saw him in the morning on Sunday he was really struggling. He was having a hard time breathing and needed his rescue inhaler. They ended up giving him his breathing treatment early because he was struggling so hard. I have said it before but it makes me tired watching him breathe. He has to work so hard to get the air out so he can get air in.

When we saw him in the afternoon he was doing better. He had gone down to the cafeteria for lunch. They have new cooks at the nursing home and he likes the food now. I hope that he will continue to like the food. His appetite is so sketchy, I am willing to feed him anything he will eat. 

As I mentioned above I was feeling emotional on the ride to his house, Hubby and I were talking about how surreal it feels and how I am trying very hard to hold it all together. He is lucky both of his parents are alive and relatively well for being in their 80’s. I am sure when the time comes for them to clear out his parents house he will come to understand how I am feeling. 

It is my hope the person has not chosen the nuclear option and instead is just waging a small cold war. I can stand the cold, the nuclear option makes me unutterably and inconsolably sad. 

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Visiting Dad – Time

The trouble is you think you have time

– fake Buddha quote, but still relevant

I saw Dad twice this week, Monday and today. I was trying to think of a theme for this weeks blog and then this quote popped up in my Facebook feed today.

The trouble is you think you have time. We all think we have time, more time to take care of things, more time to visit people, more time to take care of ourselves, more time . . .

Gpa

I know I hope I have more time. I am lucky right now that I have the time to go see my Dad as often as I can. This week I was able to see him twice; I am trying to see him at least once a week. But time is against us. I have so many other people I want and need to see as well.

This week on Monday Dad was doing pretty well. When I got there he was in the cafeteria eating lunch. Today he was eating in his room. On Monday I left before 2 because he was worn out and looked like he would fall asleep before I made it out the door. Today he was tired but not as much as Monday and I left shortly after 2.

We were able to begin the process of getting help from the VA today. It is amazing how much paperwork there is to deal with. We are very lucky that our sister B is wading through it. I do not have the patience to wade through forms.

I hate the feeling and the knowledge that we have a finite amount of time left. I hate knowing that he has less time that we want. We had too short an amount of time with my Mom. And now. And now, the clock is ticking louder and faster and I don’t like it.

 

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Visiting Gpa

I went to see Gpa this week. It is so hard to see him. He looks so small. My Dad is not a big guy, he is 5’4″ maybe 5’5″ although he has always insisted he is at least 5’7″. But he has always seemed bigger. He used to have a very big personality. He was the first to have fun, he was the first to volunteer, he was a presence. Now he is more of an absence.

He has become so introverted. Everything about him is turning inward. He seems to have lost that gregarious presence that he had. I know a lot of it has to do with this terrible disease COPD. His breathing is labored it takes all of his energy just to breathe so that  . . .

His house was on the market for 1 week and we had an offer which we have accepted. The closing is 1/31. So fast, I was prepared for it to take a while. Other houses in his area have been on the market for much longer. The good news is with this we can keep him in a private room for much longer.

My dad complains that he has no time to be social. I couldn’t understand what he meant until I found out besides physical therapy and occupational therapy he has 8 scheduled breathing treatments a day. The first one at 5am and the last one at 9pm. There are treatments through the night as he needs them. This means that every 3 hours he is having a breathing treatment. And he needs them, by the time the three hours are up he is wheezing and turning gray.

My dad is physically smaller as well. He is having problems eating. Nothing tastes good, many things upset his stomach leading to other issues, and frankly the COPD makes him not hungry. When you get to n-stage of any illness it takes away your desire to eat. And my dad has been n-stage for a long, long time.

I was talking with my brother G and he mentioned that Dad was first diagnosed with COPD 30 years ago. I think one of the reasons it has taken so long for the COPD to get so bad is my Dad was very physically fit. Aside from the smoking he was very active, riding his bicycle everywhere, building things for the church, and more.

Now when I go see him, he is so tiny, you can see the bones in his face. His legs and arms have no muscle tone. The lack of oxygen is affecting his memory. His skin tone is grey, and he gets tired so very easily.

He is struggling, we are struggling. We keep trying to keep him here, I am not sure he wants to stay. I am not sure I want him too either.

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Visiting Dad

I went and saw my Dad yesterday. As much as he dislikes it he is doing much better living at the nursing home. His color was good and he even looks like his weight is stabilizing. I hope he gains some of the weight he has lost back.

One of my brothers and two of his daughters were there while I was there. That definitely perked my dad right up. He said he was feeling pretty good but his memory was getting worse. We said that is one of the reasons we need him to stay there. It will help him keep what memories he has.

I got him a note book and some colored pens to write his memories in. He can use it as an organizer for all of the pieces of paper that he is trying to keep track of. I told him to get some tape and tape them into the notebook. I don’t know if he will but I hope he does.

Two young couples have looked at his house and we will have a second offer on it today. I don’t know if I am ready for this. It has only been on the market a week and offers already. Selling the house is so permanent. I know that there is no way Dad can ever live by himself again. He just isn’t healthy enough. But selling the house means time is running short.

I am 50+ years old and my Dad has been in ill health for a lot of years. My Mom has been dead for almost 20 years. I am not ready to be an orphan. Hubby makes fun of me when I say this but both of his parents are still alive. I am not ready to be the oldest generation in my family. Not that any of us have a choice, time marches on whether we want it to or not.

This coming weekend Navy Girl and family, Army Girl and family, Air Force Girl and family, and Hubby and I will all be together for the first time since 2011. When I am with my grandchildren I keep thinking how much my Mom would have loved her great-grandkids. I think about how my Dads illness is robbing him from knowing them.

I know I am very lucky. My Dad is well taken care of. The house selling quickly will be a blessing; we will be able to keep him in a private room longer. Life is short so hug your loved ones.

Happy thoughts for a happy day!

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