Missing Mom

   

A year ago today, we got the dreaded phone call around 6:00 in the morning, my Mom’s soul had left her poor, worn-out earthly body and her spirit was free. I was already awake, thinking about my Mom and reading about hospice and dying. My sister and I could feel my Mom’s spirit that morning; she came to let us know everything would be fine. When you know someone you love is dying, and there is nothing more that can be done – it is the most helpless feeling in the world. Our dying loved ones are never with us long enough, but at the same time in their suffering, they’re with us too long, it’s a bittersweet pill to swallow. I had just made the long ambulance ride with her back from Kansas City the day before, she wanted nothing more than to be home, where she belonged.

The last two years I’ve probably spent more time in my hometown of Chillicothe, MO than I had the previous 18 years combined. I was there last June when my Mom had heart surgery, and I came back last August when my Mom took a turn for the worse. One of the last conversations my sister and I had with my Mom, she wanted to go home (Hospice had already came in to talk with us and we were going to get her home and make her comfortable). We told her she was coming home and we were going to have a big party for her (she loved parties). Linda asked what Mom was going to make for the party (she was coming and going a bit), when she didn’t answer; Linda asked, “Are you going to make deviled eggs?” My Mom’s eye’s lit up and she had a big smile on her face, and said “yes”.  Within 2 days of that conversation, my Mom was gone.

I loved my Mom, but we didn’t have what I’d call a really close relationship. Since I was 18 and moved away from home, my Mom called me very few times – maybe 2 or 3 times each year (and one of those was my Birthday), I tried to call her more, and we probably stayed “in touch” through my sister more than anything.   As we get older, we know our parents will die. I knew I’d be sad, but I wasn’t prepared for the wave of grief and sadness that has ebbed and flowed this last year.

If you’re lucky enough to still have your Mom with you – do something special for her today. There were way too many times I was just too busy, and didn’t, and would give anything today if I could.

I had the opportunity to speak at my Mom’s funeral, I’ve included my message to my Mom below – I just wish I would have had the opportunity to say all of these things to her.

Today, I’m missing my Mom! Saturday we’re having a family Fish Fry (my Mom would have LOVED that). I’m grateful to be spending time at home, and Saturday I’m making deviled eggs!

Tribute to My Mom

Perspective is a funny thing. Most of us want life to be black or white—but life is truly many shades of grey. My perception and relationship with my Mother has changed a lot through our lives – and I often missed what was really there all along.

Mom was born in 1933 at the tail end of the great depression. I think it’s hard for us today to really comprehend those times – but this was a period when unemployment was at an all time high around 25%, the highest it’s been since then is 10%. Mom and her sister Maxine grew up in these very lean times and according to my Mon, they didn’t have a lot. My Dad was her High School sweetheart and they married in 1951. They weren’t able to have children right away, but Mom loved her family and spent a lot of time with my cousins, especially Larry and Donna. Mom was a hard worker, her and Dad both worked at Lambert Glove for years. At one point they also had a second business, the Tasty Freeze. They bought their first home at 409 Peacher Street; this is where my sister and I were born. I don’t know how much they talked about their dreams, plans or aspirations. I think during most of the 1900’s families just didn’t talk about “stuff”. Around the early 1960’s things started to change for my Mom. Both my parents left Lambert Glove and Dad worked with Joe Lambert to start Midwest Glove. Shortly after that, I was born in 1964 (much to Donna Mae’s dismay) and Mom became a “stay-at home Mom”. Linda joined us 2 years later in 1966 (much to my dismay). My Mom and Dad were both “socially shy”; I inherited that trait as well. My sister on the other hand was a little social butterfly from an early age, which helped Mom come out of her shell a bit.

When people ask me about my childhood or hometown, I describe it as growing up in Mayberry. Mom made sure we had everything we needed, probably overcompensating a bit. After growing up in the post depression years herself, she was bound and determined to make sure her girls had all the things she didn’t. I always remember my Mom fussing over our clothes (going through pictures the last few days we’ve had a lot of laughs, the 60’s-70’s were interesting fashion years). Mom’s cousin Helen always did Mom, Linda and my hair. Mom had a “big hair” period. I can remember her wearing this pink foam netting to bed with pink tape on her sides. (Helen we’ll talk about that later).

Mom was always at all of our school parties, plays, programs and sports events. I don’t think she ever missed a school event for Linda or I. Back then I took that for granted, today I feel special. Growing up Mom rarely left us with sitters or even family. When I was probably 5 or 6 Mom and Dad took their first trip without us to Las Vegas. They left us at our Uncle Donald’s farm (one of my favorite places). My Mom told the story of calling us their first night away. My Aunt Josephine called us inside to talk with Mom. We said hello, but we had to go, we were helping on the farm. My Mom was heartbroken.

She went out of her way for Holidays, especially Thanksgiving, Christmas and birthdays. Mom loved to fill the house with family and friends. For years they would have a huge Christmas party. Looking back now it seems like we had a hundred people at the house. It was Linda and my job to answer the door and take everyone’s coat. Mom made food for days (her stuffed mushrooms were a specialty) and the house was filled with laughter and warmth (looking through some of the old photos that may have been smoke).

Summers were always a blast. Mom always made sure we got to participate in anything we wanted to (and probably some we didn’t). For me it was Summer Playground playing Tennis and Softball and later golf. Linda and I were both in Scouts and 4H, Bible School and swim lessons. Mom didn’t know how to swim and she made sure Linda and I did. I’ll never forget when I was probably 5, in order to pass to the next Swim Lesson level I had to jump off the low diving board at the city pool. I was horrified. The swim teacher at the time stayed after class, everyone else left the pool, it was just Mom, Linda, the instructor and I – they were all coaxing me to jump. My Mom finally called my Dad and he came out, it seemed like we were there all day, and I finally jumped (Gary I’m glad my Dad didn’t do to me what he did to you at the Lake). All these years I thought that my Dad had encouraged me to jump. In reality, it was my Mom who wasn’t going to let me be a quitter. No offense to Mom’s today, but most would probably say “don’t worry honey, you don’t have to do that”. My Mom expected more and wasn’t going to let me fail.

In the late 70’s, my Junior High and early High School days Mom was very social. She loved playing cards with her friends. She had a bridge day, a poker day; there was ladies day golf, and also bowling. And as my friend Teri Gardner would say, “and Wednesday’s we drank”. Mom and her very best friend, Kay Garrison had a rather “bumpy” start (no pun intended). Mom was just learning to golf and Kay was a brave soul to go out with her. Mom’s first tee shot ricochets off the side and hits Kay square in the temple. Mom was mortified and felt terrible. They get to the emergency room and Kay tells Mom, “Next time I’m wearing a helmet”, that was the beginning of our extended family and a lifelong friendship.

Life is full of pain and joy. Triumph and defeat. Love and heartbreak, my Mom experienced all of that.

My Mom was a woman devoted to her family and friends; that is what meant the most to her. She wanted a comfortable life traveling and growing old with her family. Her world changed forever in the early 1980’s. I graduated from High School and moved out. Unfortunately this was a time that my Dad made a series of bad choices leaving my Mom alone, and her life and dreams turned upside down. Linda and I weren’t really there for her during her darkest days, thank God for Kay. Our lives during the 1980’s would have made a crazy Lifetime Channel movie. My Mom finally went back to work for years at the Donut Shop, then later back to Lambert Glove.

I moved away from Chillicothe around 1989. My Mom and I really didn’t have a “close” relationship after that. It’s funny, she almost never called me, I think we stayed “connected” more through my sister all these years. A few years later I moved to Texas and had even more distance from my Mom.

Over the last 20 years our relationship evolved and changed even more. You’ve probably heard the term “Disney Land Dad”; I became the Disney Land daughter. For the last 10 years or so I’ve been fortunate to have more frequent trips home. During this period my Mom’s health began declining more and more. When I’d come home, I’d take Mom shopping and running around town on adventures. One time I took Mom and Maxine to see their old home sight where they grew up. It was such a fun trip down memory lane listening to them sharing and reminiscing. I got out to take pictures and walk around. We must have lingered a bit too long, and a neighbor down the road came up on his four-wheeler to see what these trespassers were doing. Mom and Maxine got the biggest kick out of that and enjoyed telling the story of how we almost got shot. A couple of times after my visits Mom over exerted herself and days later would need to go to the hospital. Linda put her foot down and I had “boundaries” of what I could do with Mom when visiting after that.

I’m so grateful for some of the special, fun family things we did. In 2009 we took a family vacation to Las Vegas. Mom had a great time getting VIP wheel chair treatment and serenaded by Elvis impersonators. The following year the entire family came down to Texas for a “Family Reunion”. Pat’s sister Aunti Bobbi was also visiting us. Bobbi was a bit of a princess and didn’t want to exert herself for site seeing, so she stayed with Mom while the rest of us got out and about in Austin, they had a great time together. We enjoyed spending a lot of time by the pool and just having a blast. Bobbi passed 3 years ago, I have no doubt she was waiting for Mom at the Pearly Gates with a cold beverage.

One of my Mom’s retirement dreams was to have an RV with a driver who would take them fun places while they relaxed in the back playing games and enjoying cocktails. Last summer Pat and I loaded Mom, Maxine and Shian up for an RV adventure to Iowa. It was just an overnight trip, but what a fun time. We stopped in Centerville, IA to see Larry and Jan and drop Maxine off there to visit. We then traveled to Melrose, IA for Mom to see her long time friends Chris and Virginia. They live in the middle of beautiful IA farm country and we just parked the RV in their driveway.

The last 16 years my sister has lived with my Mom everyday experiencing the challenges with Mom’s health. I came for fun and games, and then left again. Perspective is funny, I bet there were times Linda wished she could have my life, and today I wish I could have had more of hers.

Early this year Mom’s health began declining rapidly. In May they advised she had a leaky heart valve that needed to be replaced. We wanted this to be her decision and she made the decision to have the surgery. I felt so blessed that Pat and I were able to drive the RV up and be with her for 3 weeks through all of this. We parked the RV at Worlds of Fun and drove back and forth to St. Luke’s on the Plaza every day. I had a goal and a mission, to help Mom get better and back home to Chillicothe. She probably hated me, I asked her to do things that were painful, uncomfortable and hard. I pushed her to do her breathing treatments every day and kept asking for more. I’d challenge her to get up and walk. Even after a set back and going back to ICU, she worked so hard. The day she went back to Chillicothe I was so happy and proud, and so was she. As we pulled out in the RV to head back to Texas on June 20^th, I felt so sad and the next week I felt lost. I worried was she eating, were they making her walk enough, was she doing her breathing treatments, was she getting better. She hit another milestone by moving from the swing bed at Hedrick Medical to Morningside Center. Mom loved it there. She made friends and the staff loved and doted on her (especially Lisa Boyd who my Mom loved), she got to eat what she wanted, play BINGO and have company. I had a really hard time reaching her on the phone because she was so busy. There were a couple of times I reached her, and she had to go, she didn’t want to miss the fun. I probably felt like my Mom did over 40 years ago when a couple of girls had farming to do. I haven’t heard my Mom be so happy in a very long time.

My Mom was a small town girl, born and died in the small town of Chillicothe, MO, her HOME which meant so much to her, with her family and extended family who meant the world to her. She knew she was loved.

All these years I never saw my Mom as a strong woman. I’m ashamed and embarrassed to say I thought she was weak.

Today I see her as the strongest, bravest, most courageous woman I know. A couple of the nurses at Morningside shared with me that Mom was so scared to have the heart surgery, but she wanted to do it so she could get better and stronger for “us girls”. The only time I’ve been in the hospital was when I was born, I can’t imagine what my Mother endured and the courage it took.

I realized I was just like my Mom in June. Her diving board was the hospital and I wasn’t going to accept any other outcome than her to get better and go home. When I arrived in Kansas City 2 weeks ago, I was ready “to get Mom back home again”. This time it was different. I rode in the ambulance back home to Chillicothe with my Mom. This time God was ready for her to come home. You can’t argue with the big guy above.

I used to think, “I didn’t want to be like my Mom”. Today I’m grateful for the wonderful gifts my Mom gave me.

My Mom was a beautiful, brave, strong woman and I’m proud of her. I wish I could have told her all of this before she passed. She raised 2 strong and independent daughters, and for that I’m eternally grateful.

The Love of My Life

I get daily “memories” from Facebook – they usually make my day. Today’s memory was The Love of My Life – Dillon. A well of emotions sprung up and I made some time in my day to reflect.

For Valentines Day of 2000 a dear friend gave me a present that I was not suspecting – in fact, it was the farthest thing from my mind at the time. As this friend came in the door I noticed something was off. After a brief conversation with her, my eyes caught his for the first time — it was love at first sight. I can’t explain it, but I knew and so did he. It was like we were soul mates and had loved each other in past lives. There on the floor was the most beautiful 8-week-old Yellow Lab puppy I’d ever laid my eyes on. I’m an avid animal lover (especially Labradors), but my connection with this guy was different – I don’t think I’ll experience this kind of bond again in my lifetime.   Water Dance Dillon became a part of my life – a part of my family. For the rest of his life he showed me unconditional love and acceptance.

Dillon was full of life and energy. I’m not the best companion animal disciplinarian and in his younger years – he was wild. In 2003 I met my now partner for the first time. We dated for quite awhile before she met Dillon. She became suspicious when all of my friends would say to her, “So, you haven’t met Dillon yet…”. He was like Pooh’s Tiger with springs in his legs – for their first encounter I asked her to just walk in the door backwards and ignore him (I’m grateful she didn’t take that opportunity to run, run far away). Dillon was sweet and lovable and it wasn’t long that he’d won Pat over as well. Pat was a great pet parent for Dillon; he calmed down and became such a well-behaved boy with her influence in his life. Pat and I used to joke, it was a good thing she fell in love with Dillon, if she would have asked me to make a choice; she knew I would choose Dillon.

Dillon was a big part of our world. I made sure he was loved, well taken care of and spoiled rotten. He enjoyed parties, holidays, family get together’s, hiking and best of all – he loved me. He loved babies too, not sure where he learned this, but he always knew to be gentle and sweet. Everyone loved Dillon (or Dilbert as he was fondly called).

Pat and I love to travel. On several occasions we were lucky to have Pat’s sister, Bobbi come and stay with our fids while we were gone. It was a perfect arrangement, Bobbi loved Dillon too and truth be told, took better care of him than we did. We took a trip to Pagosa Springs, CO in July 2010 and Bobbi wasn’t able to come stay with Dillon. We had put the dogs in a great kennel, something he’d done when he was younger. I was horrified when we returned, Dillon’s eyes were bloodshot, and he was hoarse. I don’t think he recognized me at first. I’m not sure what happened during that visit (our little Cairn Terrier was just fine) – but I vowed to never leave my big guy again after that. We love to travel, so to solve our dilemma we bought an RV in September of 2010. Dillon loved it – he went everywhere with us from that point on.

As Dillon got to be an old guy, he slowed down a lot. He was a snuggle bunny and was attached to me like Velcro. I have to admit I loved that. He was the best medicine and therapy through bad times. He saw me through a layoff, through my Dad’s cancer, numerous times when my Mom was in the hospital, job changes, and several painful losses – my cousin who was my age now, my uncle, we lost 3 beloved pets, in July, 2011 we lost Bobbi, in July 2012 we lost my step-Mom.

April 14, 2012 had to be the worst day of my life. It was a Saturday, as I got up in the morning I knew something was wrong with Dillon. He was having trouble standing and didn’t want to eat. I rushed him to the emergency vet, which is a 40-minute drive. This isn’t our first trip to the emergency vet, actually Dillon is a pro at these trips by now. Throughout the years he’d eaten a large quantity of chocolate and needed to go for observation and charcoal, he’d eaten Christmas decorations, and he’d also tested Enhanced Sports Performance Vitamins. He’d also had bloat, and I thought for sure we’d lose him then. I truly believe he had more lives than most cats. I was hoping this time he’d get another life too. Our Emergency Vet has been awesome. They got Dillon in right away. After an initial exam they determined he had internal bleeding and would need surgery to have his spleen removed. I hate that they want to talk with you before the procedure to go over cost and determine what you want to do. I’m so grateful that I was able to say just do it, whatever it takes, please save him. Sitting in the waiting room is emotional and sad. I witnessed many other pet owners who were not able to make the same decision to save their pets – it’s absolutely heart wrenching. If I could make a plea – pet owners please get Pet Insurance for your beloved family members – you never want to be in a situation where you can’t afford to save their lives.

Dillon made it through surgery, but our Vet gave us the horrific news, Dillon had Hemangiosarcoma, a common blood cancer for some dog breeds. I was devastated. We had a couple of Traditional Veterinarians tell us were would be lucky to have a few weeks left with him. The next few weeks I was a mess, I cried, I was angry, and I spent A LOT of time doing research on the Internet. Dillon wasn’t ready to give up and I wasn’t going to give up on him. I know this sounds corny, but one of the best things I did was get in touch with an animal communicator. I wanted to know what Dillon was thinking. I got the message loud and clear – he didn’t want me to worry, he didn’t want me to be sad, he wanted me to enjoy spending time with him. From that moment forward – we focused on LIVING and THRIVING!

We found a wonderful functional veterinarian, Dr. Will Falconer. He gave us hope. We switched Dillon from a kibble diet to raw meat (and boy did he love that). Dr. Falconer prescribed Homeopathic remedies, which we could tell, made a big difference for Dillon. I could tell he felt so much better and looking at him, you’d never know he was sick. We learned A LOT about alternative and better ways to care for our pets (vaccinations is another topic).

I knew we didn’t have a lot of time left, so I was going to make it the best. Dillon loved his RV adventures, so we took even more and made great memories. During 2012 we went to Missouri for my nieces graduation in May, we then went to Colorado for vacation in June to Ouray and Golden – he loved his slow walks smelling new things. The next couple of months were trips to Tulsa to be with my Dad after his wife passed. Dillon had a lot of visitors during this time too – family and friends coming to see him. In November we took a long trip to Florida and Georgia. Spending time on the beaches in Ft Myers, a few days in Orlando, and time with family in Atlanta. During this trip we celebrated his 13^th Birthday, it was so bittersweet knowing it would probably be his last. When the end is close, you cherish each milestone you reach. Around Thanksgiving I could tell he was slowing down a bit more and he did have a couple of internal bleed episodes, which is common for dogs with Hemangiosarcoma.

We made our final RV trip to Missouri for Christmas. I knew it would be the last, he was declining rapidly and needed a lot help walking – I knew, and so did he, neither one of us wanted to admit it though. Dillon loved to open presents; this year was no different. Our trip from Missouri to Texas was very quiet. In the last 8 ½ months our lives had revolved around the care of Dillon. By this time he’d quit eating – he could no longer stand, even with our help. For New Years Eve we had a bunking party on our living room floor — sleeping with Dillon for the very last time.  Pat called a wonderful in home veterinarian service. On New Years Day, 2013 they came to our home. I held Dillon and told him I loved him. He slipped away in my arms.

In the last 2 ½ years I’ve learned that grief is like the ocean, it ebbs and flows. It isn’t with me always, and other emotions are not absent in grief. To my surprise, joy, grief, happiness, sadness and love can all live in the same space, at the same time. I’m grateful that big yellow dog chose me.