Tomorrow is the day anniversary of the day we were given the biggest decision of our lives. After four days of mixed message from doctors and nurses at St. Luke's, we were told that my mom's stroke was serious. It happened right in the smack middle of her brain leaving her paralyzed, unable to speak, unable to even stop her saliva from going into her lungs.
Her doctor called a family meeting and at 2:00 on July 14, 2011 she told us that she believed my mom would never regain any function. With time and physical therapy she would be able to blink once for yes and twice for no. The doctor thought she was "locked in" - intellectually in-tack, simply unable to move or speak. She said, "You don't have to make the decision now, but withdrawing support is an option."
We asked a few questions, and in less than 15 had a unanimous decision. We all knew that my vibrant mother would never want to lived "locked in". We all knew that given the choice, she'd choose to see Jesus. We decided that Dad would tell her and that we'd make the change the next morning.
I wonder what Dad said to her. He told me that he wanted her to have one more sunrise. I wonder how sunrises look in heaven. The nurses said they would skip some of their overnight vital checks so she could have a good night's sleep. I wonder how well anyone could sleep knowing they were going to die tomorrow.
I've only seen three people actually dying. One looked excited, like she couldn't wait to go. One looked scared. She seemed lost somewhere between this world and the next. My mom looked peaceful. Honestly, she looked like the dogs and cats at the clinic. She looked like she knew where she was going, that it was going to hurt, but she would dig in and do it.
Thirty years ago, she was sort of in the same situation. She was in labor with me. Because my parents didn't have health insurance, my mom opted for a home birth. When I was facing labor with Ben, she told me, "You just have dig down and do it." I have never been nearly as tough as my mom.
At her visitation, a couple came up to me and told me their version of my birthday. They said they were signed up to bring a meal that evening and when they knocked my mom answered to door - she was wearing white shorts and bubbly. They were surprised to see her up and about, but she said, "Come on in. Jack and Jackie are sleeping - they're exhausted, but I just got done cleaning the house."
I believe that my birthday was one of the best days of my mom's life. She told me she wanted me. She told me the first time she felt me move was on Valentine's Day. She was laying on her bed reading and felt my first flutters and thought it was such a sweet Valentine. Every single day of my life, I felt my mom's unconditional love.
I also believe that the day my mom went home to Jesus, was unequivocally very best day of her life.
On that Friday morning, I sang camp songs to my mom. She looked like she was sleeping, but as I finished the last verse of For Those Tears I Died, I started crying and so did Mom.
You said you'd come and share all my sorrows
You said you'd be there for all my tomorrows
I came so close to sending you away
But just like you promised, you came here to stay
I just had to pray
Chorus And Jesus said, "Come to the water, stand by my side
I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied
I felt every tear drop, when in darkness you cried
And I strove to remind you, It's for those tears I died"
Your goodness so great, I can't understand it
And dear Lord I know now that all this was planned
I know You're here now and always will be
Your love loosened my chains, and in You I'm free But Jesus why me?
Chorus
Jesus I give You, my heart and my soul
I know now without God, I'll never be whole
Savior, You opened all the right doors
And I thank You and praise You from earth's humble shores Take me I'm Yours!
Somewhere around 9:30, we stepped out of her and they unhooked all the machines. With all the tubes gone, Mom's lips were cracked and bleeding. Her face was bruised and swollen. My dad told her she was beautiful.
We listened to Michael Card (one of her favorite artists), held her hands, prayed and gave her our blessing. The day was long, but Mom worked diligently. Around 5:00, my dad and brother took Mom's hands and began to pray. I started singing God Be With Till We Meet Again and Mom took her last breath.
A dear friend told me that my mom and I sort of share a birthday, only her's is an eternal birthday. I guess that seems true and sweet for someone I love so much. So Mom, I wish you a very happy eternal birthday. I love you dearly. Till we meet again.
Friday, July 13, 2012
Sunday, July 8, 2012
An Anniversary...
It sort of feels like you’re watching a movie you’ve seen a dozens times before and you know that it’s sad. You know you’ll cry, but you keep watching. I wake up early and run this movie in my mind over and over again.
On July 9th last year, I drove Ben and Susanna to a splash park on the west side of Independence and talked with my mom on the way. She was cleaning her back porch and she was talking about how much she loved her family. We said goodbye and I love you and I headed to the fountains.
An hour and half later my dad called me and said, “You’re mom had a stroke. We think she’s ok. She’s in an ambulance on its way to Centerpoint.”
I was frantic, it took me twice as long to pack up my kids as it usually does and Danielle offered to keep Ben. I took Susanna to the hospital and found a welcoming committee including my long-lost Uncle Chris, and many of Mom’s friends from church.
We went back two at a time and I watched mom “recover”. She went from out-of-it and slurring her words to her normal self.
They said she might have had heat stroke, or a TSA and they’d keep her overnight. She was moved to room and talking with a doctor before I left for the evening. She seemed fine. She was holding a pink teddy bear and even made a joke that the bear had a bad leg and needed treatment too.
When I came back that night, she was writhing, moaning and had totally lost control of her body. Her right side would go limp and her left side jerk. She’d say, “My tongue feels funny.” And “I’m having a stroke.”
We watched her writhe for five hours before they finally gave her morphine. We asked for blood thinners and they said no it might cause more problems.
The next morning, a Sunday, I took Susanna back to the hospital and was coming in when they were wheeling Mom out for another MRI. I picked up my mom’s Book of Mormon and opened it to page 450, thinking I’d read to Susanna. This is what I read:
The soul shall be restored to the body, and the body to the soul; yea,
and every limb and joint shall be restored to its body; yea, even a
hair of the had shall not be lost, but all things shall be restored to
their proper and perfect frame. Alma 19:58
At that moment, I knew that God would totally and completely heal my mom… on His side of the veil. At the time, I honestly thought she would not walk again or would lose control of some of her speech, I had no idea that I would lose all of her.
I asked her doctor to look at her again while she having an “episode”. He said that she was just having an anxiety attack and ordered a psychiatrist for Monday morning. Looking back, that was a total waste because by 7:00 pm that night, my mom would never speak again.
The day progressed and they continued to not treat her. She basically had a fatal stroke in a hospital as an entire staff, her family and friends watched. I feel like I let my mom down so badly. When the
doctor said not to give blood thinners because it could cause other problems, my mind was screaming, “No! She needs this.” When the doctor said she was having an anxiety attack, I knew that wasn’t true.
But at the same time, I honestly feel like this was God’s will for her life. Every single person who is born will someday drink from that bitter cup and I truly believe my mom’s earthly work was complete and it was time for her to graduate.
And as it is appointed unto men once to die… Hebrews 9:27This is harder than I thought it would be. I don’t think I can write everything all at once. There were seven days between when my mom first had her stroke and when she passed away. In the scriptures, seven means completion.
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