Thoughts on Life and Death
I've been reading the book Ronni Bennett reviewed August 20th on her blog Time Goes By "Advice for Future Corpses" "*And Those Who Love Them," by Sallie Tisdale. I really appreciate it. I wish it had been printed before my either of my parents died. I want my sons to read it, and my sisters, it spoke to me that much. Her words came to me as I once again process my rocky relationship with my mom. For whatever reason I've been thinking about Mama again, a lot.
Mama died in a nursing home (my father's choice not hers or ours) over a period of about a month. My life, all of our lives, were made up of spending as much time with her a possible. My youngest sister camped out in her room a couple of nights a week. I drove from Seattle to Portland and stayed every weekend and in between as emergencies occurred. She was alert and angry; angry at Dad for violating their agreed on plan and putting her into care; angry at dying; angry at us for not taking her away and angry at still being alive. We called an attorney and we were told we probably didn't have the time to manage a change. Then I got call at work from Dad telling me she was in the hospital and to come right away she was really dying and he put her on the phone. She asked me if "we were alright?" I told her of course we were and told her I loved her and I was getting in the car and would be there. We'd never been alright, but I always did love her. I didn't make it, she died 20 mintues before I got to the hospital. She'd died out of it, thrashing around and calling for her mother and our Dad.
I feel the need to say that partly from being the oldest child and the family arranger of many things, I've always been the calm one when things go haywire. However at the funeral home and totally unlike me I bawled and then actually passed out. My brother-in-law kept me from crashing on to the floor. I was too embarassed and surprised to even wonder what happened for awhile. I did go see a therapist when I returned home. The realilty of never working out our relationship and never having "the mother I wanted," bothered more to me than I realized. There are four of us daughters and after we began to talk I realized it wasn't just me.
Tisdale has a lot to say about that hole that remains when someone dies. Both the immediate loss and the baggage we may have been carrying. Much later Dad began having long talks with each of us alone. About how what he'd decided affected all of us and carefully prising out answers. Over a couple of years he went on to talk about other decisions he'd made in his life wanting to know how we thought those things affected us, individually and as a family. He apologized for some things including not keeping Mama at home. I hugged him and I hope that I can be as gracious to my own children. At the end I think while Mama was awake she got most of what she wanted, a boatload of family and kindness. My sister said she didn't want anyone to leave. Dad sent us all away before he died and told the staff to keep us out. You just never know.
There's a lot of useful information at the end of the book for making your own wishes known. I've had an Advanced Directive, a will and other "instruments" done some time ago. I haven't done a POLST as I really still understand what some of those actions mean. I know what intubation is but I don't understand what the "other measures" are exactly. Or magical thinking on my part?
Thank you Ronni Bennett.
Mama died in a nursing home (my father's choice not hers or ours) over a period of about a month. My life, all of our lives, were made up of spending as much time with her a possible. My youngest sister camped out in her room a couple of nights a week. I drove from Seattle to Portland and stayed every weekend and in between as emergencies occurred. She was alert and angry; angry at Dad for violating their agreed on plan and putting her into care; angry at dying; angry at us for not taking her away and angry at still being alive. We called an attorney and we were told we probably didn't have the time to manage a change. Then I got call at work from Dad telling me she was in the hospital and to come right away she was really dying and he put her on the phone. She asked me if "we were alright?" I told her of course we were and told her I loved her and I was getting in the car and would be there. We'd never been alright, but I always did love her. I didn't make it, she died 20 mintues before I got to the hospital. She'd died out of it, thrashing around and calling for her mother and our Dad.
I feel the need to say that partly from being the oldest child and the family arranger of many things, I've always been the calm one when things go haywire. However at the funeral home and totally unlike me I bawled and then actually passed out. My brother-in-law kept me from crashing on to the floor. I was too embarassed and surprised to even wonder what happened for awhile. I did go see a therapist when I returned home. The realilty of never working out our relationship and never having "the mother I wanted," bothered more to me than I realized. There are four of us daughters and after we began to talk I realized it wasn't just me.
Tisdale has a lot to say about that hole that remains when someone dies. Both the immediate loss and the baggage we may have been carrying. Much later Dad began having long talks with each of us alone. About how what he'd decided affected all of us and carefully prising out answers. Over a couple of years he went on to talk about other decisions he'd made in his life wanting to know how we thought those things affected us, individually and as a family. He apologized for some things including not keeping Mama at home. I hugged him and I hope that I can be as gracious to my own children. At the end I think while Mama was awake she got most of what she wanted, a boatload of family and kindness. My sister said she didn't want anyone to leave. Dad sent us all away before he died and told the staff to keep us out. You just never know.
There's a lot of useful information at the end of the book for making your own wishes known. I've had an Advanced Directive, a will and other "instruments" done some time ago. I haven't done a POLST as I really still understand what some of those actions mean. I know what intubation is but I don't understand what the "other measures" are exactly. Or magical thinking on my part?
Thank you Ronni Bennett.
posted by Celia | September 29, 2018
6 Comments:
What a thoughtful post. I need to read this book.
My mother died at home, per her wishes, with Dad & I by her side. She and I never got along very well, and that was challenging as I was her main caregiver the last few years of her life. She said and manipulated a lot towards me that was hurtful, maybe it was how she really felt but I choose to chalk it up to her dementia.
Anyway, thanks for putting your story out there.
Thank you for this. I'm rather fearful of my mother's passing away. She's so much a part of our lives that it's hard to imagine day to day without her now.
important. My mother and I danced around each other while she was dying as she never really supported me as the eldest. She felt my job was to help her always and not really have a life of my own.
I’ll look for this book, Celia.
Oh, my mother put up walls so we could be strong and independent. Che had cancer and was told she would die. It was 1948, and I was about 7 then. She didn't die until 1989. I never felt loved.
This blog post is timely. My mother is 85 yrs old and failing. She has her heels dug in and fights the aging process. Like Brig responded, we don't get along yet I am the major caregiver being geographically close. It seems that other family members are happy to surrender the caregiving role to me. The request to remain at home and die at home is not often made with consideration of the caregivers' capacity to accommodate that. I marvel at the conversations you had with your dad; those kinds of conversations were/are unheard of in my family. Any anticipatory planning with my mom is met with resistance. I don't have to agree with her decisions but I want her to be safe. I have a cousin who had a difficult relationship with her mom up until her mom's death. I often recall her words - and somehow I still missed her when she was gone. So I continue to do what I can while maintaining my boundaries. I try not to anticipate too much; I just take it day by day and do what needs doing.
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