This is my OD entry dated 8/27/2010, the day after Mom died - I just realized that it has been exactly two months today.
***
I thought I'd write out what went down yesterday and talk about things a bit just to get it all off my chest. I may use this entry as part of a mass email so I don't have to repeat myself too may more times. It seems like I've told this story over and over in the last 24 hours.
***
6:30am: Phone rings. I've been asleep for three hours and at first I think it's my alarm, then I recognize the ring tone. It's Dad, and that can only mean one thing at this hour.
Me: "Hello?"
Dad: "Hey...can you come over honey? It's your Mom..." He says it like he needs to tell me but can't make the words. I tell him I'll be right over and he says that meanwhile, he will make a few more calls.
***
I get up and throw together some clothes. Blue jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt, my necklace, fix my hair, forget about make up. Go to the bathroom, brush my teeth. I hear Colten moving around in his room before going to school and I knock on his door.
Me: "Hey, do you have a bowl you can smoke with me?"
Colten: *Opens the door* "Sure, yeah, what's up?"
Me: "My mom died."
Colten hugs me, even though he's just wearing his T-shirt and boxers. It's serious for a moment and then he whispers, "I'm sorry I'm not wearing pants" and we start giggling. Bowl smoked, it takes the edge off. We talk a bit and finish getting ready. I throw together a few school supplies in case there's time to study while I'm at my parents house, but I don't really expect to get anything done today.
I offer Colten a ride to school and he is more than happy to come with me. We stop at the gas station, buy ciggs, drinks, and granola bars for breakfast. I don't really feel like eating but I choke it down anyway. I drop Colten off at school and continue to my parents house. I'm numb all the way and have to concentrate really hard on driving, not even sure if I ought to be driving, but I really have no choice.
***
7:30am: When I arrive the house is completely silent. The constant whirr of the oxygen concentrator is off. It's sunrise and the sky is perfectly cloudless. There's no wind and the lake down the hill is like glass. The weather is warm but in spite of that, I feel cold all over and keep my hoody on. I wonder when she passed, what state she'll be in, what will dad be like? I don't know. He greets me in the entry and gives me a big hug. Nobody is crying yet.
I don't know what to do. He shows me to the room and it's an oddly beautiful scene. The sun is shining through the window and lighting the whole room. Mom and Dad's bedroom is golden and Dad has cleared out the medical supplies and arranged the room with Moms favorite vase of flowers by her bed; I notice he's bathed her, combed her hair, changed the sheets, and laid her out in bed. She looks like she's sleeping. She looks beautiful.
I feel like I'm having an out of body experience and he holds my hand as I start shaking inside. For a moment I think I'm going to pass out. That numb feeling washes over me again and we just stand there.
Me: "when did it happen?"
Dad: "Around midnight. I didn't want to wake you and I needed...time."
Me: *nodding* "Okay. Was she sleeping or...?"
Dad: "We were sitting up together and she was leaning against me. One minute she was breathing just fine, very relaxed...the next minute she stopped. At first I thought it was one of those long pauses..."
We hug again but I'm still too numb to cry.
Dad tells me that he went ahead and called the home-health nurses so they could come pronounce the death and we could attend to business stuff. The rest of the family will be arriving in ones and twos throughout the day. He says he hasn't called my sister yet because she's in school and I tell him that she explicitly told me that she wants to be notified immediately even if she is in class. He makes a call to her and leaves a message that she needs to call home, then we sit and talk haltingly for a few more minutes. Most of the time we were probably just staring off into space trying to wrap our heads around the reality of what we knew was inevitable but still somehow comes as a shock.
***
In the next few minutes, I go back and forth to Mom a few times. I feel like I oughtn't leave her alone again. The nurses are coming and something in me can't bear the thought of them touching her - at least not before I do. I have a [scrubs] moment fantasy where she turns her head towards me and speaks again. It's weird and I feel like crying ... but I don't ... the waterworks haven't arrived just yet.
I linger by her bedside and eventually bring myself to brush my fingers over her hair and then her forehead. I touch her shoulder where her tattoo of a heart and a blue rose with a banner underneath reading, "Mr. G" still looks bright and cheery. She is impossibly cold - so cold it burns my skin when I take my hand away like I'd just been touching frozen wax. I touch her again to verify that this is really real and notice even her hair is absolutely freezing.
***
8:00am: The home health nurses arrive. The younger one just got her nurse practitioners license and it is her first expected death so her mentor is with her. They are warm and helpful and guide us through everything. The first order of business is to confirm and prounounce the death. Dad tells them when and how it happened and they do the obligatory check for breath sounds or heartbeat.
8:05am: Mom is prounounced dead by the NPs. We fill out some paperwork, I help the nurses attend to a few things. I want to help. The older NP asks if we need them to do anything like give Mom a bath or dress her. We decide that she'd like to have a dress on and Dad picks one of her favorites. It's a sun-dress, a little lightweight spandex number that she wore often because it is cool, fit loosely and is very pretty with its black background and bright pink flowers.
Dad wants to help dress her but when we get started and he sees how rigor has set in he gets very upset. "Oh she's all stiff, oh my sweet girl, my little bird*, she's so cold..." and the older NP and I gently take over from there. She is like a board but since both of us have experience dressing people we get the job done quickly and efficiently. We fix her back up in bed and it's like she's sleeping, only now her right eye is partly open. I quickly brush my hand over her face like I'm pulling back her hair and close it again before Dad can notice.
The nurses make sure we've got all the appropriate people notified and checks over Moms Comfort One paperwork. The funeral home is called (it is too long after death now for the science care company to take her) and Grant at the funeral home tells us he will be here to pick her up and make further arrangements around 11am because he's running a funeral this morning.
8:35am: The nurses leave after checking us over again and offering resources if we should need them. Dad tells them to have Mom's regular nurse, Ruth, give us a call so he can thank her personally for the wonderful job she's done supporting and caring for them both.
***
The rest of the morning is a bit of a blur. Dad's sister, Aunt Leah arrives as does my paternal Grandfather John and his wife Helen. I don't think about the time. Everyone comes to say goodbye to Mom. We gather in the living room and visit quietly. Every now and then one or the other of us goes check on Mom just like we used to when she was sick and sleeping. I go back alone and also with others but who knows how many times? I am not counting.
I take a picture of her one of those times she and I are alone together. It's a permanent record of her absence. It feels wrong, like I'm being disrespectful, but I need it at that moment to make everything real again. I dread when Grant will come and take her away from us. I keep visiting her again and again to touch her freezing skin and murmer quiet goodbyes. I touch her earlobe out of curiosity and find that too is getting stiff. Her ears are small and elfin as are all her features and her body looks impossibly tiny. She seems to be fading from full color to black-and-white as the colors continue to fade out of her face.
***
11:30am: Grant arrives. He is a quiet, respectful, well-dressed fellow but I don't bother introducing myself or anyone else. He and Dad and Helen are sitting around the table but I'm spending these last few minutes with Mom. I do cry a little, silently. The waterworks have started a slow trickle down my face as I think about how I'll never, ever see my Mother again. I speak to her softly and sit next to her as I overhear what's being said in the other room.
Grandpa John wants to pay for something and Dad is like, "no" but Grandpa is being pushy. John's normally an overbearing asshat, especially to people he cares about, and I can tell he's about to push Dad too far. When Dad goes to get his checkbook I can tell he's angry and it scares me. I am afraid that there will be an argument and yelling but Dad cools back down almost immediately and apologizes to his Father about getting so upset. Everyone understands.
The gurney won't fit down the narrow hallway so Grant, Dad, and Grandpa John put her on a smaller stretcher board, cover her, strap her in and take her out to Grant's hearse. It's actually a modified SUV and I feel grateful for no particular reason that a causual observer will be unaware that there is a body being transported. When they walk past me with the stretcher it looks like they're carrying a board with a wrinkled blanket on it; she's so small and light you can hardly tell there's a body there at all.
Everyone gathers on the porch and watches them leave. Mom will be cremated immediately and the ashes will be available the next day. I am a little shocked that it's all happening so fast. In my mind I see her body burning and feel angry for no particular reason. Then I think about how I'd like to put some of her ashes in a pendant to keep with me later on. Mom would like that. I am glad that we don't have to actually do any of this until later.
A few minutes later, Dad and I are making the bed in his room. He turns to me and hugs me, crying very quietly. "I don't know how I'm going to sleep in this bed. This bed is so big and she's not there. It's weird, how am I going to sleep?"
I don't have an answer for him and we hug a little tighter.
***
We visit with family, order some pizza, talk quietly and Dad and I are emotionally spent. My paternal Grandmother, Joyce, turns around on her way to Anchorage and comes straight over within a few hours. It's nice to have the attention, but I'm getting overwhelmed by the flood of family members so I go for a short drive around the neighborhood and smoke a few ciggarettes to clear my head. There are no more tears, only numbness and sadness and a sort of empty feeling.
I contact my teacher via email when I find a spot with good reception for my phone. She calls and offers a few suggestions and tells me that if I need to be absent tomorrow she can give me an excused absence and a make-up assignment. I thank her for her help and tell her I'm not sure what I'll do but for now, plan on seeing me in class.
Before I know it I'm getting floods of texts and calls from friends and fellow students who hear the news through the grapevine. I've told my instructor to just tell whoever, I don't really care. I'm amazed at the outpouring of support and sympathy.
When I get back, Dad's other sister, Aunt Leah calls and says she will be arriving in a few hours by plane and is there anyone who can pick her up? I volunteer for the job because I've got to feed the cats anyway. While I'm there I decide to get some stuff so I can stay the night. I gather my supplies and Colten offers a smoke to take the edge off, which I accept gratefully. I visit with Colten and Cody a while and we watch an episode of Tosh.0 until it's time for me to go to the airport.
***
Melissa isn't my favorite aunt, but it feels good to do something. We get back to the house in no time and the rest of the night is kind of a messy blur again. IDad and I talk to my Sister for a while, then Melissa and Leah go to spend the night at Grandpa John's house. As expected, I get no school work done. I try, but when I read it is all gibberish so I go to bed early instead. I pass out almost before my head hits the pillow, having decided to sleep on whether or not to go to school in the morning.
***
4:45am this present morning: I wake up and make the bed before I go out in the pitch dark rain to smoke a ciggarette. Dad doesn't know I still smoke sometimes and I don't want to tell him. I read the assignment for today and find my concentration is actually pretty good so I decide I will go to school after all. Dad gets up a little later and makes some coffee.
6:45am: I finish reading and put down the papers. I am suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of tiredness and grief. It's like the dip on a rollar coaster when your stomach flies up through your throat. I go to my room with one of Mom's blankets and lay down on my bed. The real waterworks begin. I cry from the pit of my soul and it feels wonderful to finally release the tension that's been building up.
Dad comes in from smoking a ciggarette and hears me. He comes to soothe me but I can't stop crying and just keep sobbing into my pillow. Eventually I calm down enough for us to talk for a while before I get ready for school.
***
Now I'm at school and feeling very tired once again. I am going to go smoke a ciggarette and study because I've got a lab session starting in a little over an hour. Everyone is super amazed that I showed up but ... what else am I going to do? I need to do and it is a welcome distraction.
I hate to say it, but I have to take my extended family in small doeses. If I have to hear that my Mother is with Jesus one more time I'm going to throw something. Fortunately, my Dad's brother, Uncle Mike is visiting and he's the only other openly atheist member of my family. Even before I found out about his nonbelief I liked him best of any of my parents siblings because he's funny and cool. Maybe he'll take me fishing tomorrow if it's sunny. I'd like that.
-Tak
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