Sew's Spot

"Sit up, join up, stir it up, get online, get in touch, find out who's raising hell and join them." Molly Ivins

Saturday, April 01, 2006

Aftershocks

Mom died on Wednesday at about 11:15 or 11:30 a.m.

The end was quiet. One moment she was breathing - the next she was gone. Peaceful, no pain, no fighting or screaming.

The wake was Thursday night. The funeral was Friday. Today I will take the long train ride back to Illinois. Probably won't be lucky, but if I am, Pirate may meet me during my layover in DC. I hope he can. 6 hours is a very long time.

Since it appears from the curt comment from my daughter on the previous post that my Sainted Brother the Lutheran Minister has succeeded in alienating her completely from me, I guess he has "won". I have no idea how she discovered my blog, but It sure does give the rest of the world a window into the dysfunctionality of my family.

I thank the Deity for each and every one of my dear friends who have been with me through this. The internet is certainly an incredible place, when the folks one can meet there become so close, so caring, so supportive - more supportive, more caring, more loving than even those who SHOULD care - family and neighbors.

Without the support and help of my friends, this ability to say good-bye to my Mom wouldn't have been possible. I love you all.

Blessed Be.

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Death's Door - Part II

Her breathing is so very shallow now. I tried to keep pace - it's impossible. One cannot get enough air in the lungs in such a short inhalation in order to support the long exhalation.

They can't get a blood-oxygen reading anymore from the little clip thing. They tried fingers, toes... nada.

We haven't really SLEPT in 72 hours. Dad is not thinking straight, but there is NO WAY that I am letting that man out of my sight until I have to leave on Saturday afternoon.

St. Paul the Lutheran Minister is being bossy, pushy and obnoxious - and it's getting on Dad's nerves as well as mine. Somewhere inside there, Dad relates to me in a different way, on a different level. Dad will accept comforting from me. I can hug him. Paul can't - or wont.

More later.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Deaths Door

I've learned what a "death rattle" sounds like. Mom's breathing is so troubled.

Her heart is still beating strong, but all else is falling to pieces. The pneumonia is robbing her of consciousness - that and the combination of Ativan, Morphine and other drugs.

Having to be "strong" for my Dad's sake is a hell I'm only just beginning to learn. He's gonna be lost without her, even when she had the altzheimers, he knew where she was and that he could go to visit her.

Need to leave now - more later.