With Mother after her party.
This photo is from May 20, 2010 - my mother's 90th birthday. All of my siblings came, and we had a lovely party for her at the church. She had resisted having it - insisted no one would come!! There were children and spouses, grandchildren and spouses, great-grandchildren, 3 brothers-in-law, 3 sisters-in-law, many nieces and nephews, friends from church, friends from the neighborhood, a big crowd.
In the months afterwards however, there were some tiny cracks in the facade of "all is well." First she was diagnosed with ocular melanoma and had to have an eye removed. As a result, she could no longer drive. She continued to stay home alone during the day while Donna worked, continued to fix meals three times a day, continued to do her own laundry, continued to receive her home and visiting teachers each month, continued to attend the temple, continued to travel about with Donna and Charlie when he came for visits and persuaded her to go places.
But she had bad days now and then - severe colds, a fall, stomach flu, fatigue, and neck pain. The neck pain persisted and got worse. A visit to the doctor produced the diagnosis of arthritis. She continued to have her eye checked. She started being troubled by a growing cataract. She didn't go out as much. Turned down invitations.
The years took their inevitable toll. She didn't complain much. She still enjoyed Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. She still loved Lawrence Welk. She got lots of visitors - and especially loved the little babies.
In November of 2014, she traveled to Utah after the sudden death of her granddaughter Robynn, after she had declared that she wouldn't fly anymore. But she flew there for the funeral. She especially enjoyed a visit that trip with her good friend from Granada Hills days, Kay Gavin.
Her good friend Beverly Reese died. Kay Gavin died. Kathryn Harrison died. She said, "Everyone's dying but me." She didn't talk about dying especially. We tried to get her to express her wishes for her funeral service. She went as far as going with us to the mortuary connected to the cemetery where they owned plots, telling us her preferences, telling us we could take care of things, she had the money set aside.
She didn't go out as often, didn't stay the whole time at church, turned down invitations to weddings and baptisms and blessings when she didn't feel up to it. Her family came often to visit - her daughters stayed for longer periods of time. I started going out on Mondays and staying overnight so Donna could go places, because she was reluctant to leave mother alone in the evening.
She came for Christmas Eve this last year. She came for Noah's wedding. She went to a funeral for the husband of a friend from church. It was long, and afterwards she declared that her funeral should be under an hour!
Her six sons served as pallbearers.
The die was cast though, and there was more wrong with her neck than arthritis. In March, she was in such pain, Donna took her to the ER. Cancer - bone cancer - was diagnosed. The decision was made to not treat or explore the extent of the cancer anymore. Hospice services were engaged, a daily caregiver was hired. Alice and Leslie both came, at different times, for extended stays. Mary came over often. I continued to come each Monday and Tuesday. Other siblings visited. Faithful visiting and home teachers made weekly visits. Sweet great grandchildren sent lovely cards. There were calls and Facetime - something she quite enjoyed. Grandchildren and great-grandchildren visited.
If you look closely, all twelve of us are in the photo. The only group shot of the day!
Mom slowly declined. Then she'd have a good day. Then a decline. Soon the delines were longer and more frequent, the upswings were shorter and less frequent. She ate less, had trouble swallowing, had trouble talking, but she always wanted to get up and get dressed and go to the living room. Not sure when her last car ride was, but there was a last one. There were other "lasts" too - she no longer wanted to read, or be read to, or to watch TV.
With my childhood friend Marguerite, who came to the service.
Hospice came, routines were changed, re-established. New meds were tried - the goal was pain relief. She had blessings. There were many tender, sweet moments. One time the bishop and two men from the elder's quorum came to give her the sacrament. She could only take a drop of water and a crumb of bread, but it was sufficient.
The one group shot - the six sisters.
Sarah had come for a week or so - ended up extending - Leslie joined her. David hurried back from guard duty, Bill had been coming pretty regularly to help with lifting and turning. Mary came whenever she was not working. Donna called me and suggested this might be the day - perhaps I should come. I was grateful that Harry was available to come with me. This was June 7th.
We sat around her bed. We sang Primary songs and hymns. We called out favorite scriptures and read them. She was heavily sedated. But her breathing, though shallow, was somewhat steady. Then it had pauses. And longer pauses. And with hardly a notice from us she slipped away.
It was that simple and easy. It was a good death. We were sad. We wept. But we were at peace.
Family started making plans to come. Mom had left the funeral services "under the direction of Barbara Terrill," so I consulted with the bishop, and with the copious notes I had been taking as I had been interviewing Mother for the past several months. I wrote the tribute. Alice came - she made a lovely new temple dress for mother. The day before the funeral, my sisters and I met at the mortuary to dress mother for the viewing. It was good to have something so specific to do for her - our last earthly service for her.
And this last Saturday, June 18th, we laid her to rest, next to Dad. It was a beautiful Saturday afternoon. A bagpiper played "Amazing Grace," Charlie dedicated the grave, a lovely lunch was held after. The service was short - under an hour - just as she had requested. A beautiful choir of grandchildren and great grandchildren sang a medley of Primary hymns. Her Relief Society president read the tribute I had written. An old friend from the early Granada Hills Ward days spoke of her life and related it to the scriptures. The bishop compared her life to the beattitudes.
And a chapter in my life ends, just as a chapter - the final chapter of her earthly sojourn - ended. I was sorting through folders and papers and the sort of clutter that can take over your life. I made a folder labelled "Mother's Funeral." I put papers and cards and other mementos into the folder. I filed it next to the folder that says "Dad's Funeral." I looked through those papers - much has changed in 16 years.
And so more changes are coming. Mom was ready to go. We were ready to let her go. But she is still gone. And we are adjusting to that.
And I was wishing I could have just one more conversation with her!
