We are still in Houston. We buried my mom yesterday, Sunday, and because she died on Friday night ("only the righteous die on the Sabbath" - we have heard this many times) and last night was first night of Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year), there is no Shiva. My mom was always considerate and never wanted to make a fuss, right to the end. So bwo and I will head home to EDH tomorrow (Tues). It has been an intense few days. I am so happy we came when we did. We got to see her in the hospital and got to witness some of the "terminal restlessness" although it was nothing like the horror my brother and sister had to go through over the previous week. After she was moved to the hospice they kept her well drugged and much more peaceful. On Friday late afternoon the Rabbi came by and did this sort of Jewish last rites thing. And Hope from the Jewish chaplaincy service stopped by and left us the makings for shabbat. So we lit the little battery candles, said the shabbat blessing over the wine (grape juice) and challah (some rolls from Beldens) - my mother would have liked that. Then we went home for Friday night supper with all the noisy family (Chinese takeouts - what all good families choose after a day at the hospital). The call from the hospice came after all the kids left and only bwo, my brother, s-i-l, sister and Jay were sitting around talking. So we rushed off the the medical center, by the time we got there she had passed on. The hospice was amazing. Not afraid to answer all our questions, clearly and directly. The last few days have been a blur, but still, there were many, many unforgettable moments: Hope blowing the Shofar in the "dead" silence of the hospice; my mom laid out so peacefully with her crocheted blanket tucked tightly around her; her hands, first blue and then clear; the strange little lady from the hospice with her hundreds of forms; me struggling to concentrate on a work call while listening to the doctor with one ear; the "death rattle"; Norah from the hospice and her quiet competence; my wonderful brother pacing up and down practicing the eulogy (5mins 17 sec); watching little Noe shovel sand into the grave; Jose and the boys slowly ratcheting the coffin into the hole they dug that morning; the ugly cement "crib" that the simple pine box is entombed in here in often-flooded Houston; but mostly that over arching feeling of security and caring and love that my family generate no matter what the occasion. We laughed a lot and cried a little. I mostly get faclempt when I see how others are affected by our loss. Her passing was not tragic. After the funeral and bagels, when the family had left the house, we went to Shul for the first night Rosh Hashanah service. The pomp and ceremony at their huge shul here in Houston is not my style at all, but it certainly was interesting and blessedly short. Then off to my sister's crowded apartment for the traditional first night dinner. The food was great, they always look out for the vegetarian. And yes, there was brandy and sponge cake. My dad would have been proud. This turned out to be much longer than I expected, and still it covers barely a fraction of the events and emotions of the last few days. The number of calls, FB messages, texts etc has been overwhelming. One of my brother's friends wrote something I hope is true. She said after losing her mother with dementia, that as time passed she found she forgot those years lost to the dementia and remembers her as the lively, bright person, full of life she once was. It's a comforting thought. Lisa made this video, and it seems this blog is one place things don't get lost, so here it is. My mother and her family.
We are in Houston. My mother, 96, took a fall last week and things turned bad. She had severe dementia for the last few years, but till the fall was walking on her own, no walker or chair. So the hospital did the minimum to keep her comfortable, which included some bolts and pins in her hip and not enough meds. We got the call Tues and flew down yesterday (Wed). It has been quite an experience. Let me say I am so lucky to have the brother and sister I have. They have taken care of my mother for years and just dealt with this situation with their usual efficiency, humor and love. We Ubered directly to the hospital from the airport and went up to see her. It's hard to describe, I would not have recognized her if I did not know. She was pretty much out of it, but would grab at the air every now and then and let out a sort of moaning wail. Apparently, things were much improved by the time we got to Houston. The previous day and night, after the operation, she had continually pulled out all the infusions and even ripped those unbreakable hospital id bands off her wrists. She also ripped off any clothing, and sheets anything covering her. Not fun. She was always a strong woman and it was a full-time job for a nurse to watch her (Shemarion was yesterday's). They had upped the doses of pain meds and morphine so she was kind of sleeping and only occasionally reacted, but that was bad enough. And so we learned of "terminal restlessness". It's something that is not spoken of too often, but is common in the dying. Man, was my mother terminally restless. At some point yesterday the hospital decided she needed to leave and fortunately (believe it or not) she was bad enough to be accepted into a inpatient hospice. They don't take just anyone. When we arrived at the hospice this morning, she was once again very restless, wanting to pull herself up and shouting at the world, but not really conscious. She also kept ripping off her clothing and blankets and that is a sight it's hard to unsee. The hospice people knew exactly what to do and upped her meds to where she is resting as peacefully as can be expected. We are sitting around waiting. We are lucky to have many people who are concerned about how we are taking all this. I can only talk for myself. The mother I knew and loved, who was the special person in my life left a few years ago. I really was lucky in that I did not have to watch her going week by week. I got to see her every few months and so the decline into dementia was a relatively sudden thing for me. So I have had years to say goodbye. The body lying here just breathing is not I my mind the mother I knew. We will do the right thing for it, of course, whatever means less pain and suffering and hope she goes peacefully. In the meanwhile we wait.
Cokie Roberts died today. She was 75 and was someone I really admired. I loved listening to her on NPR and always found her interesting and intelligent. I recommend her book "We Are Our Mothers' Daughters" (which she reads on Audible) and I liked her "Our Haggadah: Uniting Traditions for Interfaith Families" which she wrote with her husband Steven. She was someone I would have liked to invite for dinner.
We get a lot of humming birds around the house. Bwo has strung up multiple feeders and usually remembers to fill them. I can sit in my office here at home and look out the window and watch the territorial battles that they wage. This one, he is red breasted (yeah the photo is shite, sorry) is the boss. He chases off visitors to his feeder and pursues them into the trees with great aggression. I have noticed that the rabble has figured it out, they send a decoy and as soon as he chases the decoy, two others will swoop in and feed til he gets back.
There are days were it is hard to get motivated. Days where the weight of the world presses heavily on my shoulders. On days like these I need some excellence. The cafe at squint central has a temporary tonic for this malaise. Take a sesame bagel. Slice in two with the bagel slicer thing (no sharp knives, they can lead to litigation). Put it through the industrial type toaster twice (one of those conveyor belt numbers) controlling the speed until the middle is perfectly brown and darkly toasted on the outside. Divide in two (Kacey has the top half). Shmeer thickly with jalapeno cream cheese and top the half with one of those hash browns. The cafe really knows how to fry shit and those flat toaster hash browns are perfectly perfect. It's all in the crunch. Each bite of this perfection increases my joy. The only sadness is that it is all too soon over. Excellence in any form, that the secret.
It was a wonderful three day weekend. I got to spent a lot of time in the shop. Roxy and I spent time at the lake. We now have a routine on the weekends. We pick up David and Eliot at 6am and get to the lake as the gates to Browns Ravine open. The dogs leap out the car and run around peeing and sniffing until we head off on our walk. Those walks help me get through the rest of the week.
