The end of my story. Final Post.  This was written just a few days after Mom had passed.  As I read it now I feel the same emotions.

May 25th, 2018

For the last few days there are times when I feel I am in a movie script.  The moment is so beautiful and yet painful I can not help but believe that the viewers of my life would also be moved.

Thursday Clip One:  I was holding my Mom’s hands from 4:00 am to 6:00 am.  Occasionally both of us would sleep.  There was nothing to indicate this was the last morning we would share.  At 6:00 I gave her a little morphine as her breathing was a bit hard and then snuggled into bed with her.  We spooned with my arm around her.

The sunlight was sneaking into the room and my thoughts had turned to what I would do for the day. Mom’s breathing had settled.  Sandra and Cheryl, members of Team Traude were still sleeping.

And then her breathing stopped.  I waited… and there were two more small breaths.  No struggle.  Just a release from a body that was fragile and broken into a light that was pure and white. I continued to hold her as my tears flowed.  Cheryl was up making small early morning noises.  When she entered the room I asked her to open the door to let Mom’s spirit soar. It was so beautiful and just the ending I wanted but I did not want it to end!!!

Clip Two:  The funeral director arrived four hours later to remove Mom’s body.  By then her care team had time to come and say goodbye.

We washed her and dressed her in a blue dress. When they arrived I placed a beautiful arrangement of flowers from a team member’s garden on her chest.  The stems were wrapped in a hand painted place mat that I had made years ago.  Mom was covered in a hand knit blanket made by a granddaughter.

As I followed her out to the plain silver minivan I could only think that anyone receiving her would know how well loved she was.  My parents always stood at the entrance and waved us down the drive.  I did the same for Mom knowing that this was the end of a tradition of many, many years.

Friday Clip Three:  My sister and I went to a lovely winery for dinner to celebrate Mom’s passing.  After dinner we walked up a small bluff that looks over the small city where she lives.  We sat on a bench and cried, we yodeled to Mom, we talked and we hugged.  She made a poem for Mom and recited it with her version of sign language. She gave me hugs that supported me to my core.  And I gave her hugs that supported her to her core. We looked at the sky and sent our hearts to Mom. “MOM” such a few letters for the most important person in my life at this time.

Saturday Clip Four:  I invited the care team, my rental sisters, Mom’s rental daughters to the house for a celebration of our journey.  We put balloons on Mom’s chair and a sign that said TEAM TRAUDE and we took turns riding in the chair as the rest of the team pushed.  We had to wear the expensive Maui Jim sunglasses, the beautiful pashmina shawl, and a cute sun hat.  We sipped vodka, laughed and looked at the world from Mom’s perspective.  The wheelchair walks were one of her favorite activities in the last months of her life.  We finished the evening on the balcony reminiscing on favorite Traude moments.  On what she had taught us and on what we had learned. On what moment we would each hold closest to our heart.

Sunday Clip Five:  One of our team members likes to go to church and although the rest of the team is not religious we offered our support to her and attended a service this morning.  It is a small congregation of a new ministry that is rather inclusive and Evangelical in some ways.  Today must have been made for Mom as the regular service was shortened to make room for a very beautiful southern bluegrass gospel band.  A family of musicians with real talent and beautiful hearts.  (Think of Dolly Parton’s roots and you have the right music.)  Mom loved music and was spiritual if not religious.  Two songs were dedicated to her and sung by the youngest son, 12 years old. Tears flowed.

Sunday Clip Six:  I am home alone like an old dog sniffing around for a master that has passed.  I have to make a list to get through the day.  Make coffee, refresh flower arrangements, clean kitchen, tidy bedroom, take balloons off the wheelchair, call friends.  Add brakes for unexpected emotions.  All the things I did along this road to make it as good as I could for Mom.  The coffee table changed to a soft ottoman to protect her from a fall, the first alarm system to protect her from wandering, the search for comfortable shoes, the adaptive clothing to give her dignity,  the vinyl flowers stuck to the ceiling to give her something to look at and to keep her mind active,  and on, and on, and on.  It is so weird that my mind no longer needs to solve Mom problems.  So much time.

I looked after Mom for twelve years and would do the journey again.  I learned so much and have such gratitude for the time we had. I thought that because I had done the work and seen the decline I would be relieved that it is over.  Sadly that is not the case.  But in time all will be well.  I will surrender to the process and believe that this sadness will lift.

Thank you for allowing me to give voice/text to my thoughts. Mom loved to read us Winnie the Pooh so I will leave you with his words of encouragement.

A quote from Winnie the Pooh.

“If ever there is a tomorrow when we’re not together..

there is something you must remember.

You are braver then you believe, stronger then you seem,

and smarter then you think.

But the most important thing is, even if we are apart…

I’ll always be with you”      A.A. Milne