For My Mom

My mom passed away the evening of Wednesday, January 27th. She was 85 years old.

Many of you know that we had moved her to a small private residential facility in October, when it became too difficult for a family member caring for her in her home. Alzheimer's was progressing to the point that she recognized very few people, or even that she was in her own home.

The new place was a great fit and we were pleased with her care.

Late December she had a UTI and went to the hospital. While there, she developed a staph infection. After 9 days in the hospital, she went back to the home. We thought she was recovering nicely, but only after a day or two being back at the home she started going downhill rapidly. In addition to Alzheimer's, we "think" she developed a large, hard mass in her abdomen (sorry if this is more than you wanted to know!) that resulted in her rapid decline.

Thankfully, it went fairly fast. I was with her when she passed, and am grateful for that. Also, most of my family had spent time with her that Wednesday, and for that we are thankful. I have a large family, and it certainly has been a benefit.

A while ago I laid awake one night and kept thinking about her memory, and how it must feel to not be able to remember. So I jotted down as many thoughts as I could about my life with her, and decided that I would remember for her. This is what I came up with, in no particular order:

I'll Remember For You

Whenever I was sick, I got to lie in your bed because the bathroom was close by, I could watch TV, and receive lots of love and care. Your care was magical to me.

Me being a sulking teenager and one day you cleaned up my bedroom while I was at school. I’ll remember the short but sweet note you left me on my pillow saying “Just wanted to help you feel better”.

The time I had an ulcer and we were in the public restroom at the hospital, with me trying (unsuccessfully) to put in a suppository to keep me from vomiting. We laughed so hard we were practically laying on the floor, and when we FINALLY came out of the restroom, dad was mad because he didn’t know what happened to us.

The legend that you were known to serve liver on Halloween, and we couldn’t go trick-or-treating until we ate it.

The serviceman coming to our door with a telegram, notifying us that Tom had been in a helicopter crash in Vietnam. I’ll remember sitting on your bed crying with you.

You hiding down dark hallways and jumping out from a bedroom to scare the pants off me. I’d always fall down. I could never really get you back because I was afraid I’d give you a heart attack. Turns out your heart was the strongest organ in your body after all.

Playing Rummikub or card games, and you always making us laugh so hard we’d cry. All it took was a look from you, or a skewed eyeball at some off color remark, and it was all over except for the crying (from laughing).

The time we traveled to the Pacific side of Canada in our motor home and dad bought fresh crab legs. Eating them indoors was a mistake, dad ended up with crab pieces on the top of his head. You and me: thought it was hysterically funny. Dad: not so much.

The surprise 16^th birthday party you threw for me. We moved on my 16^th birthday, I was sad, but you had all my friends gather in the moving box strewn empty house to send me on a fond farewell. Totally unexpected.

Fondue dinners. They were the best. Beef, mushrooms, little potatoes. Yum yum yum.

You and dad driving all the way from Minnesota to Washington to pick me up from a summer job gone bad. No questions asked.

How you always wore your hair in a bun for many many years. I’d sit and watch you back comb it, shape it and spray it. It really was a work of art.

The tornado of 1965 and how frantic you and dad must have been to be out of town when it came through, and all eight of us kids fending for ourselves in the basement.

How you’d have hot milk warming on the stove when we would come in from sledding or skating. Was there anything better than hot chocolate on a cold day?

The North Fork Dude ranch you went to with me, and how you went white water rafting at the age of 60.

The delicious Florida shrimp you would pick up right off the boat, bring home, and boil. No one made boiled shrimp better than you.

You not asking questions when I was a teenager and out late. You trusted me.

Letting me show up on your doorstep and cry my eyeballs out one Christmas morning after a breakup.

The times we “ran away” when you were mad at dad. Ok, so we only strolled a few blocks to blow off steam.

Watching a lightning storm from the living room the night dad passed away and just letting what happened sink in.

The day I told you I thought I was dying. Uhm…you could have done better telling me about what happens when you become a young woman!

The joke we played on a nurse while I was in intensive care with an infection from appendicitis. I’m sure that nurse still hates me to this day.

Teaching me games like dropping clothes pins in a bottle, and playing cards tossed into a hat.

How you successfully hosted large family reunions at our home.

Tailgate parties at Met Stadium, where us kids could run or bike around and have a blast.

The time I broke my arm and couldn’t bathe. You used PSSSSST on my hair and we laughed because it turned my hair grey.

The time I broke my head and was sitting IN the kitchen sink bleeding. How you maintained your composure during such crisis’ amazes me.

Time we were camping in Canada and a black bear was coming towards you. You hid in the outhouse. I’m thinking you might have been in there awhile.

How you made us iron dads clothe hankies.

Lying in bed with you and watching the Benny Hill Show. Hee hee.

Staying home from school to bail water out of our flooding basement.

Being pre-k (before they had pre-k school) and accompanying you to the laundry mat (laundry for 10 can’t always be done at home).

Shopping for groceries and always needing two carts for all our food.

Me crying anytime you went into the water, which was often because we lived on a lake. Can you say “separation issues”?

Skinny-dipping with you in above mentioned lake.

Going to Mystic Lake casino. Nuff said!

You wearing paper dresses when they were in fashion.

Letting us get our ears pierced when no one else was.

Feeding chicken gizzards to big blue heron’s at your Florida home. They’d come right up to your kitchen window looking for you.

You fishing on the beach and same herons would steal fish you caught right out of your bucket.

You and me nervously watching the windows bow in and out during a bad storm in Florida, while dad peacefully slept right through it.

You feeding jays right out of your hand at the golf course.

Having giggle fits while sleeping in the motor home or in hotels, and dad getting mad because he was trying to sleep.

Me crying every time you and dad would leave for Florida or a trip.

How you never darned my socks. You always used much coarser language. Tee hee.

The legend of the muskrat that bit Betsy, and how you whacked it to death so bad they couldn’t test it for rabies.

How you rarely ruined a meal.

How you always came to school concerts and events.

You tolerated my bouncing on the bed, throwing ball against the house, and other repetitive stuff. (Can you say "sensory issues"?)

Letting me have sleepovers with friends in the motor home.

The day I moved out. I came back to pick up some more stuff unannounced and you and dad were already running around half naked. (You were really getting ready to go out, but I HAD to give you a hard time).

Letting me go through your vanity, closets, makeup, perfume etc. I’d sit with you in your dressing room when you’d get ready to go out, and I’d watch you. You’d make me check your nylons for runs. That was my job.

Your favorite radio station was WCCO. I really did not like that station growing up. Guess what I listen to now?

Digging for clams on Prince Edward Island.

Your collection of owls that you picked up from your travels and that were given to you as gifts. What a hoot!

I love you momma!