Mom's Death

It’s six in the evening and I’m doing this to be doing something. I need to take my mind off of what happened here this morning and writing a blog is a good way to reconcile, accept, and get used to the idea that Mom is dead. Carola came in to awaken me at 10 a.m. saying that she thought Mom died; she was cold to the touch and there was no pulse or breath. I went back to her to check it out and that’s the way it was. I called 911 and reported it, saying there was no emergency that my mother died in her sleep; they sent people out right away.

Mom fell in the bathroom on June 24; her knee bothered her quite a bit so we took her to the emergency room at Baptist East, on Breckenridge and Kresge where they found a broken bone just below her knee. It was from then that she needed full support, wheel chair, potty chair, and to be lifted into bed; her power recliner was a god-send. We had a visiting nurse to make sure we were doing things correctly, a physical therapist to do likewise, and made three trips to the bone doctor to follow-up on her mending.

She was subdued for the first two weeks, and then began slipping mentally. She would call out for Eddie, her deceased husband, and more than once had conversations with people who weren’t visible to us. At one point, a few days ago she said, matter-of-factly, “I think I’m losing my mind.” One other time she said, “I’m blind, you know.” She became more and more reclusive even though we sat with her for long periods of time; talking to her but not getting much of a response. It was my custom to sit with her every night, even from before any of this happened, and watch Wheel of Fortune, then Jeopardy, then the O’Reilly Factor, and on Saturday night to watch the BBC programs, Last of the Summer Wine and Keeping Up Appearances. We continued this but she was less and less engaged, couldn’t see and had difficulty hearing. For the past several days, she would have her eyes open, mouth open, and face pointed upward to the ceiling.

On Wednesday, we had Dan, a physical therapist, come over to get her back on her legs; she was ok for that. When we came home on Thursday Angela, from Elder Care Professionals, was sitting with her, simply holding her hand; Mom was in that face-up position. It registered with me that we were in the end-time. On Friday she was almost completely non-responsive. I had to place her on the potty, which she used infrequently this day, and keep urging her to drink, eat, and stay awake.

In order to quantify the situation; I would say that she was 100% before June 24, then after an initial low period came back to 80% by the end of July, then on Wednesday she was 75%; Thursday 50% and Friday 20% in the morning, 10 % in the afternoon and 5% when she went to bed. I didn’t expect her to make it through the night. I was up until 4 a.m., couldn’t sleep, and checked on her often. I even said, “She hasn’t moved a muscle,” although she was breathing at 1 a.m.; then at four when I felt that I could finally go to sleep, I didn’t note her condition except that she hadn’t moved. Then Carola came in at 10 a.m. and awakened me.

The two EMS men that came were professional, thankfully they didn’t dwell on the event but talked about other things going on in their lives and filled in their report form on a pc. They left when Darrell Spurgeon, LMPD arrived, he got some details from them, did his report, showed us his I phone and generally waited with us until the Coroner’s office arrived. Rita Taylor, assistant coroner, originally from Florissant Missouri, came and did her examination of the body.

When she came out of the room she told us that Mom had suffered a heart attack, her hands and expression were relaxed so although it was severe enough to kill her it was not a painful death. She was most complimentary on the way we had taken care of her, what she saw in the house and her room. While she was here she dropped her pager and lost all the calls but was able to refresh them with the help of her dispatcher. She stayed with us until we were sure that the funeral service company was on the way.

So far there had been an EMS vehicle, a police car, and a coroner’s car here at different times but each overlapping the previous. Now there were none. Carola was able to get her hair appointment changed to now and she left. This left me here alone with Mom’s body for a while. It was ok with me; I made an entry into my daily log.

After a while, a white mini-hearse came into the driveway. Two people came to the door, a woman named Janet and a middle aged, sad looking fellow named Brad. They came in, expressed their condolences, and went in to look at the body. It was covered to the neck with the sheet and blanket Mom had used during the night, she almost looked alive. They weren’t hurried, brought in the gurney and, voila, it was too long to make the turn into the bedroom. They lifted the body enclosed in a white sheet, after stretching arms and legs to release the rigor mortis, and carried it to the gurney. They then covered it with a dark cloth, after asking me if it was ok, and out the front door it went, into the hearse and gone.

Now the house is empty. It feels strange, as does going back to Mom’s rooms and seeing that she’s gone. I feel sad; it was her time, she knew it, she went willingly into the void. Now she knows or it doesn't really matter.