The Ending First and Then the Story

        Mama died two years ago this past week. It was 5:45 in the morning, Daddy had spent the night with her.  I tried to get him to go home and let me stay, but he refused.  I had just driven in from Missouri after working all night and I was exhausted, but I still probably felt better that Daddy did.  I stayed all day with her and let him take a rest, although he wasn't gone long enough to have rested any.

       Hospice had been called in, so they could making her leaving easy on her. Since there was nothing left to do, we sat with her. She had a fever and she did drink some water--but not much.  Her breathing was labored and very fast.  I didn't see how she had the strength to even breath.  I wanted to do something about the fever but no extra means are used to keep them alive.  I must admit the staff was very good to us and to Mama. It was just the finishing line for her.

       All the time Mama was sick, Daddy and I were at war most of the time.  It bought out the worst in both of us.  He needed my help and I could only do so much because I was still working.  I had begged them not to move home because of this. I lost that battle and it cost us dearly.  Although I do have to admit, the nursing home we finally had to put her in was as good a hospital as I have ever seen.  It was clean, beautiful and Mama liked it.  In fact, her Mom had eventually had to go there, so we knew the care was excellent.

       However, that didn't stop the battles.  When I came in, I took over for Daddy and he could rest.  He had set up a schedule that was just about to kill him. He had always been a "boss" in construction and now Mama was his "job".  He would be there at 6:30 in the morning to make sure she was ready for breakfast. He ate breakfast with her everyday.  Most times he probably didn't eat all that much, because Mama had reached the stage where it was hard to get her to eat anything.  That was the reason she had to be admitted to the nursing home.  We couldn't make her eat.  Well, neither could they. It was just part of her brain shutting down .

       Daddy's plan was to spend as much time "taking care of the Babe" as he could.  Milk and cookies were at 10 a.m. ,Daddy was back for that and stayed through lunch.  He would go home and Mama would take a nap. Then about 4:00 p.m. he would come back up and stay for dinner and sometimes, depending on how Mama was acting, he would stay until 6:30 and the he'd go home and be asleep by 7 p.m. Daddy and I both are early risers, so he'd be up at 4 a.m.

       This went on for the 3 years and 10 months Mama was in the nursing home. She was sick for about 3 years before we had to admit her.  It was physically hard on Daddy .  He lost weight.  It was almost too much for him, but he took excellent care of Mama.  He had a lot of making up to do, and I think this was his way to do it. He was wonderful with her, although he gave everyone else hell, Mama got the best of Daddy.  And she should have.

        When Mama was dying, Daddy refused to let anyone call me. However, Hospice called and the nursing home called. That was how I found out Mama was dying.  They knew Mama would want me there....so they called.  They told me to be prepared for him to be mean to me, because he was furious with me.
I hadn't been home in 4 months. The longest I ever went was a month and then I would stay a week to help out. But the last time I was there, Daddy had hurt my feeling so bad and I was so mad at him....I stayed away.  He told me to. He told me not to come back until he called me---no matter what anyone said. He slammed the car door and left.  He was mad because I had just stayed a week in the hospital with Mama and once they got her built back up, we bought her "home" to ICF.  The doctor told us that this was it. Mama was as good as she was ever going to be.  I knew what that meant. It had been a hell of a week. Her body was starting to shut down.  Nothing worked much at all. They gave her blood and that was almost too much.  We couldn't get her bowels  to work . I have never worked as hard, cried as much, prayed as hard as I did that week.

        While I was at the hospital one night, my car was broken into and my heavy winter coat was stolen.  I had never had anything like that happen before.  It was shocking but I had another coat and much more important things to worry about.

       I was on FMLA, and I only had so much time on the books.  I told Daddy I had to go home. That Mama was back at the nursing home and I would be back soon.  I needed to put some more overtime on the books.  He was furious that I was leaving.  A lot of mean things were said.  Whoever said, "Sticks and Stones will break my bones, but words can never hurt me"  was sadly mistaken.  Words sear the soul and brand the heart.

We were there to love her, support her, comfort her and enjoy each moment that we could. There were many funny moments.  Alzheimer's patients loose their inhibitions and there were times that Mama caught me off guard and I would crack up at what she said or did.  This picture was taken right after she was admitted to ICF.  She had acquired a "baby" and was so in love with her.  The "baby" was seldom out of her arms.  I got a glimpse of how she loved me as a baby.   For awhile the baby was named "Vicky" and then she forgot her name along the way, but she never stopped loving that doll.