A fun place for my daughter and I to post artwork and what ever else we wish to share.

The Hospice Visit

September 2006

I walked into the hospice room where my mother was laying back on a bed. She was weak and spoke in a low and labored voice. She “hey long time no see.” And that started off the conversation between us. I maintained a tone of that would over ride all of my rising emotions. My 9 year old daughter was with me and she was drawing pictures for her Grandmother. I had originally asked a family member to be here with them so that I wouldn’t have to see them together. There was something heartbreaking about seeing them in the same room, my past, my future. Both filled with sadness of the tragedy of life, loving someone so deeply only to have to say goodbye one day. What a wonderful collision of emotions, just enough to make me want to cry like a baby.  But, the voice was working for me.

            I reminded her of a time that yelled me for throwing away a jar of mayonnaise from her refrigerator. I thought we could have a laugh over something in our past. She said “oh that’s all right you didn’t know any better.” It could have been the pain killers that made her so forgiving and understanding, but the understanding had to have been there before the pain medication could drag it out. There were other family members present, they were each coping in there own way. We talked about how my mother said that she saw my sister’s image in the light shade on the ceiling. She laughed and agreed that she did see her there. I was saddened by the thought of her lying there alone at night looking up at the light and finding comfort in that image. Once again I held back the tears, it was so difficult. The room was filled with a thinly veiled air of sadness and grief. My sister said that she has been sleeping there every night ever since she told her that story. We all acted like my mother was just in for another hospital visit like the many she had in the past 6 or 7 years. She was in for a number of reasons, chemotherapy, a second mastectomy. Or to have yet another toe removed as result of complications from the chemo and her diabetes. It had a rough few years for her. But this time the cancer was in her lungs and she wouldn’t leave that bed alive.

            The others had to leave for a bit and I was asked to stay with my mother until they returned. I stood next to her stroking her hair. I was never allowed to touch her hair when I was a child. She said that her scalp was too sensitive and it gave her headaches. Well I was doing it and she was letting me. My daughter asked me something that demanded my attention for a moment. My mother looked at me with a smile and said, “you didn’t know that you would be taking care of two kids tonight did you?” I said that wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

            My daughter handed her a picture that she had just finished drawing, it was a Pokémon character. She looked at it and smiled. She stared moving around her oxygen tube and accidentally removed it from her face. I asked her if I could fix it for her, she allowed it. I struggled with it and didn’t succeed at restoring her to a comfortable state. I knew that I needed to get a nurse, but rather than push the magic button that could make a nurse appear, I panicked but calmly asked my daughter to go to the nurse’s station and get some help. She did so quickly, the nurse came in and with a twist and turn of the tubing, it was fixed. I was relieved until I looked over at my daughter; she had a look on her face that is indescribable. I felt a cold bitter shock that will haunt me forever. She was scared in a way that I have never seen before. I think that she understood at that moment just how sick her grandmother was, the grandmother that always had chocolates and other fine treats for her whenever we visited.

            I went to her immediately and sat holding her telling her what was happening and that Grammy was comfortable now. I praised her for being brave and let her know that she had done a very nice for her grandmother. She said that she wanted to go home, I told her that as soon as her aunt returned we would leave. After she was calm, I returned to my mother and my daughter was right there with me looking at her with absolute concern. She had drifted off to sleep for a bit as she had been doing all night. When she awoke she smiled when she saw us standing here like she was happy to see that we hadn’t left yet. The drawing that my daughter gave her was still in her hand.

My sister returned and it was time to say goodbye. This was the goodbye. It was quick and memorable. I leaned over her and told her that I loved her and that I would be back then kissed her. My daughter said goodbye and we left. This took place on a Thursday night in September 2006.

            The following Week I sat next my daughter in the front row of the church where my mother’s funeral service was held. We sat to the right side and had a perfect view of the sketching that I did of my mother from her high school graduation photo. There came a time when the pastor asked if there was anyone who had anything wanted to share. After a few family members shared, the pastor looked over at me and said “yes dear?”, I was paralyzed with fear. The thought of standing up and addressing everyone would have turned me into a puddle of tears. But it was my daughter that stood to speak since it was her that raised her hand as if she was in her 4^th grade class room. She stood bravely and said that she remembered being in the room with her grandmother, and drew her a picture. Then she told them that she fell a sleep and woke up still holding onto it. She said that she felt safe and had good feelings.

I stood up and shared next, my daughter had given me the strength that I needed to stand up and talk, though not very long.

In loving memory of Irene D. Kennedy

Posted by: Johntk1 at 23:49 | link | comments (5)

Comments:

#1  23 February 2007 - 00:11

 

RIP Ms. Irene D. Kennedy

mgrhetos2

#2  23 February 2007 - 03:57

 

Thank you for sharing this. Writing about your loss and emotions surely takes courage and strength.

behindtheblink

#3  23 February 2007 - 04:05

 

Moved me to tears.

Jackal

#4  24 February 2007 - 04:59

 

Thank you, it means so much to me that you have read it and strongly enough to respond. It took me a long time before I could write it. It felt really good to get it out on paper (or on a blog).
Thanks again.

Johntk1

#5  28 February 2007 - 16:13

 

That is very beautiful. I'm sure those memories will bring you much comfort in the days ahead and my prayers are with you and Olivia.

staynergirl

Comments: