A Piece of Heaven

Around the 15th of June, Mom stopped feeling better.  Each day from there on out, she felt a little weaker, drank a little less, took a little more pain medication, and slept a little more.  But there were still 2 things she wanted to get done.  The first was to spend time in the temple with all of her children and their spouses.  The second was to speak at my niece Hailey's baptism on June 19 like she'd agreed to do months ago.
The plan was to go do sealings at the temple on Saturday June 18.  But even Friday night, the jury was out on whether she'd be able to or not.  I prayed like I've rarely prayed before that Mom would have the strength to get there.  
Saturday morning, Dan went down to play basketball with my brothers at the church and while he was gone, Dad called to say we were on for the temple and that they'd be there at 11.  I immediately cried tears of relief that this outing was happening.  But then I realized I needed to find a friend to watch our kids.  I tried to get it together and was able to leave a coherent message on the first phone call.  On the second call, the husband answered and said they weren't available and I was able to get off the phone before I started crying.  I was starting to lose it a little in anticipation of the last time I'd be with Mom in the temple, but I still needed someone to watch the kids.  So I took some deep breaths and made another call.  This time, my good friend Sara answered.  And when she said she wasn't available that day, I completely started sobbing.  Poor Sara-even though logically I knew we'd find someone, I could hardly talk!  I was finally able to squeak out that there were still more people I'd call and she made me promise to call her back and she'd rearrange her day if I still needed someone.  When we hung up, I couldn't stop crying and decided that Dan could finish making the arrangements when he got home.  He got home around 10, immediately called another friend who was available that morning, and we got ready to leave.
When we got to the temple, Mom and Dad weren't there yet.  We walked upstairs to the waiting area and saw Kat (a best friend since childhood) and her husband Glen.  Obviously I started crying again.  Mom had missed seeing Kat and her whole family just a week before and I knew Mom would be so happy to say hi to them on her way in.  It was heartbreaking to tell Kat that Mom likely had days and not weeks left on this earth.  Mom was so happy to see and hug Kat for a minute before heading on in.
Mom looked amazing.  Absolutely beautiful.  No one would ever guess how sick she was.  She came in a wheelchair and already had her white dress on.  I just continued with my crying.  We headed in to the dressing room together and we all got ready to do sealings.  My sister Carrie and I helped Mom get ready and then we walked down to the sealing room.  Mom and Dad sat on the couch underneath one of the mirrors.  The rest of us (me, Dan, Shad, Amy, Carrie, and my Aunt Tami) sat facing them.  We were told the sealer would be in in about 15 minutes, so we closed the door and just cherished being together.  Mom and Dad glowed.  It was a tender time.  My little brother Tyler was also in the temple, he was downstairs doing baptisms.  We missed having my sister Jamie and her husband Trent there.  There were lots of tears shed as we waited.  At one point Mom looked over at us and told us if we were going to remember something, we should remember this.  I do Mom, I do.  My memory of that time together in the sealing room just glows.  It was like being in heaven.  Mom and Dad knelt at the altar, held hands, and and were sealed for time and all eternity for some of our ancestors.  Then Shad knelt with them and stood in for a son.  Then Mom was too tired to kneel and she sat and watched.  Carrie knelt across from Dad and I stood in for a daughter.
After the sealings, we all walked down to the Celestial Room.  We hugged and cried and just watched Mom in disbelief that this could be our last time together in the temple on the same side of the veil. 
When we finished, we took pictures out front.  Mom was getting tired and was relieved to be back in the new blue suburban for the ride home.  My girls were supposed to go to a birthday party that afternoon, but I knew it was more important to be with Mom, so we picked up our kids and headed straight down.

Dan and I had written letters to Mom that week expressing our love for her, so we went into her room where she was resting and shared them with her.  It felt so good to tell her those things.  She shared her patriarchal blessing with us and we all just chatted quietly.  Our girls came in to give her kisses and then we let her rest for a few hours.

Tami and Mom after the temple, June 19

The trip to the temple really wiped Mom out.  But she was determined to get to Hailey's baptism and speak.  She'd prepared her talk earlier in the week and Tobi, Tami, and I had helped her get her visual aids ready.  She spent Sunday morning June 19 resting and trying to conserve her energy for the baptism at 4 pm.  When we got to the house before the baptism, Mom was getting dressed with Tami's help.  I went in to check on her and she was in her church clothes hunched over on the edge of the bed with a cool washcloth pressed to her face, trying not to pass out.  But she just gritted her teeth, put on her wig, and got in the wheelchair.
She did it.  She made it to the baptism, gave her talk from her wheelchair, and made Hailey's day.  Hailey had asked me to lead the music and I looked at the closing song and laughed--Families Can Be Together Forever?  You think I'll be able to lead that at 8 months pregnant with the imminent death of my Mom?
I felt pretty safe with the opening song--I Am A Child of God.  But I made the mistake of looking at my parents sitting on the front row as we sang the words "parents kind and dear" and I didn't recover for the rest of the song.  I actually kept it together for the closing song--I knew at that point not to look at anyone or think about the words. 
I loved hearing Mom's testimony--she gave a great talk and I felt the spirit so strongly as she bore testimony of the reality of our Savior and of the resurrection.
The ward members there showered Mom with love and attention.  As I watched her, I could tell she wanted to stay longer for them--so they could say their goodbyes.  But after a few minutes, she was too tired to stay any longer and Dad took her home.  I talked to her that night and told her that just because she'd done the last two things on her list didn't mean she could leave quite yet.  We smiled at each other--but I knew that accomplishment was significant.  Her time was growing shorter.  I called my sister Jamie the next day and we discussed when she'd be returning with her kids.  Their flight was scheduled for June 29, but as we talked, she realized she needed to get here sooner and she began working on the arrangements.  

My brother Shad, Mom, and niece Hailey--June 19, 2011

The Bucket List

Mom had these amazing 12 days after she got home where she felt a little better each day.  She was recovering from her surgery and as that healed, she had the energy to make a list of to-dos and get to many of them.  Don't get me wrong, she was weak, but she was in such good spirits.  It rubbed off on all of us.  It was easy to forget that she was dying.
We'd often make comments to her about how great she looked for someone who supposedly had little time left.  The amount of time left was something we all wondered about.  It was nice that Mom and Dad were so open about what was happening and we could speculate WITH Mom about when she might be leaving us.  It was healing to be able to cry with her.  I loved the moments spent sitting with her.  She taught me many things in those last few weeks.  She approached her death in the same way she approached her life--with optimism.  She knew she would miss us and that we would miss her, but she knew that her Savior had made it possible for all of us to be resurrected and live again and be together.  That knowledge was her anchor and she had faith that we would all be ok.
Other than those intangible life lessons I learned from her, she taught me many more tangible lessons as well.  She spent an afternoon with me using her embroidery machine to make a blanket for my sweet baby on the way.  She'd had the blanket done for a few months and just needed to know what name was to be embroidered around it.  I loved being able to tell her that we were naming our little girl Candace--for her.
After making a blanket for my baby, she wanted to get blankets done for my brother and sister that don't have kids yet.  She had a box of flannel ready to be made into blankets and once Tyler and Carrie each chose a boy and girl blanket, she taught me how to thread the serger to finish the edges for them.
Other things on her list included labeling the pictures of her and her cousins from my grandfather's 90th party in April.  So she took one afternoon and blogged them.
She wanted to make sure Baba (my Dad's mom) and her sister Tami knew where she was on family history work.
She wanted to get as many Thank-you cards done as she could for all the people showering her family with love during a difficult time. 
And then she wanted to write letters.  Letters to each of her children and to my Dad.  She was most anxious to have some letters for Tyler to open on special occasions (wedding day, mission, etc.).  As far as I know, she got them all written.
And somehow, she made time for so many people.  Her sisters, her brother, my dad's brothers, her children, her grandchildren, my grandma and so many friends.  She took every opportunity to tell the people around her that she loved and appreciated them and she dealt graciously with so many tender goodbyes.  

Dad, Mom, and Tyler on June 5

Vicki, Penny, Candy, Terri, Tami, and Tobi--Team Angel Sister (as their shirts say).  All together for the last time on June 6.

Mom was so great to spend some of her precious time just reading to her grandchildren.  Granny and Megan on June 6.

Brooke joined in too...

Megan and Granny on June 9

Brooke, Megan, and Grandpa, June 9

A goodbye with a dear family friend, Shelly on June 9.

Jamie (my sister), Owen (Jamie's 5th baby), Granny, and Megan on June 9

My Mom, my sisters, and I.  We are listening to the song Just One Moment More by Mindy Smith.  June 9.

Granny on the floor playing with Megan on June 10

Mom would come sit outside and chat while we swam with our kids.  This is Megan, Brooke,and I on June 10 (I was 33 and 5/7 weeks)

Also on June 10, Aunt Tobi swimming with us, Mom and Uncle Tab chatting (Tab is her only brother).  My girls both became quite good little swimmers this summer and kept me BUSY in the pool.

Beautiful Mom on June 10

Mom and Dad on June 11

Tami, Candy, Tobi, and Tab on June 11 (doesn't Mom look amazing?)...

In her recently remodeled kitchen on June 11--she LOVED that kitchen.

Saying goodbye to her brother Tab on June 11

Busy at the computer, June 13

My brother Shad's 31st birthday, June 15, 2011

Mom and I on June 15 (in her pirate kerchief as I called it--we had a pirate costume growing up that had the same polka dots)

June 4, Just Another Saturday

From my journal:

Today was mostly just another Saturday.  The boys played basketball in the early morning and came back for a dip in the pool.  The aunts were cleaning the house from top to bottom.  The daughters, daughter-in-law, and our kids gathered too.  The grandkids played and bickered and ran and laughed.  By noon we were all there.   Things looked good.  Mostly things looked like they always look.  There were just a few foreign items to remind us of the changes happening.  An oxygen tank here.  A pile of unsorted mail there.

We were waiting (as we have all become accustomed to).  It has a familiar anxiety to it.  But today was not the agonizing wait like before or after surgery.  Or like waiting for word from an appointment.  Or waiting on the latest lab result or CT scan reading or whatever other numbers or words would determine our moods for the next while.  Today we were waiting for Mom to be home.

The phone rang—it was Mom!  But it was just to report that like us, they were waiting.  And waiting.  With that, lunch was served.  Rook was played.  The house was cleaned again.  “Quiet time” was instituted for the grandkids.   

Then suddenly, the call we’d been waiting for.  They were minutes away.  Somehow we found more things to clean and put away.  Balloons were floating.  Flower arrangements were centered on every table.  Gifts were set out.  The minutes passed, the car was sighted.  And just like thousands of other times, Mom walked in the door.

A collective sigh floated through the air.  It had really happened.  She was home.  It was exciting.  We were all smiling and laughing and hugging her.  She seemed to visibly brighten as she walked in.  She notices the balloons.  “Whose birthday are we celebrating?” she asks.  Of course it’s for her.  But her birthday’s not for another month.  We say we are celebrating today because all of the sisters are here and Tobi’s birthday is this week anyway so it’s for both of them.  And of course that’s part of it.  No one speaks of other reasons to celebrate early this year. 

She sits down and we take pictures.  Of this momentous ordinary occasion of coming through the door.  I tear up as she sits smiling with her five sisters.  Immediately I brush them away and take a breath and move on.  Not because there is shame in the tears.  Just because there will be time for tears on less-happy days to come and I want to revel in the joy of THIS day.  We take a few more pictures.  Mom with the grandkids.  Mom with all of us there.  Mom with just Dad.  We need one of them kissing--they happily oblige.  And make sure to kiss a few more times to make sure we got it on camera.  

She notices the neighbors swimming.  So she gets a little purse to hold her bag full of drainage from her new g-tube, continues sucking on her fentanyl-laced lollipop and heads out to graciously welcome them.  She has an entourage with her as she tours the backyard to see the new landscaping (a gift from a longtime friend).  And as she tours the house, she takes in the cleanliness of it all and thanks her sisters profusely.  She notices the dusting and straightening and love that have been poured into it. 

We let her sit for a minute before we bring in the cake and sing Happy Birthday.  Again, I tear up but get it together by the end of the song.  We eat Blue Bell and have cake.  She sucks on her lollipop and has some ice water.  Too soon, the hospice nurse arrives and heads down the hall with Mom and Dad. 

Some of us swim.  Some of us watch movies.  Time passes and we find we are waiting again. 

Shad and Amy take their tired kids home.  I feed my tired kids dinner.  Our waiting pays off—the nurse leaves and Mom comes down the hall.  I am getting ready to leave and my girls are crying because they want balloons.  Mom goes into Granny mode and of course wants them to each have one—no wonder all her grandkids adore her.  They get them and dance and giggle as they bounce them on the ceiling and show them proudly to their Granny.   

I revel in the minutes that are so ordinary.  She chats with her sisters—they are fussing over her and making sure she has her cornstarch pudding and pureed soup (that is too spicy, then too hot, then finally given the stamp of approval).  Tyler shows her his new boots for scout camp.  I show her my sewing project from this week (dish-towel bibs)—she pores over it, talks about how much she likes it, and gives an explanation of it to her sisters.  I love to hear her teaching them. 

Too soon, it’s time to go.  Once more, the camera is out.  I want a picture of my Mom and me together on this day.  Kisses are given.  See you soon.  So ordinary.  And yet I know that suddenly, days like this are precious and should be treasured as the miracles that they are.  Just another Saturday with Mom at home.  

June 2011 part 1 (June 2)

June came.  I saw my Mom practically every day.  I tried to keep a little bit of normalcy for my kids and kept up with my Monday grocery swap and took them to playgroup on Wednesdays most weeks.  We'd try to get to Mom's in the morning (usually around 10 am).  We'd swim and have lunch and they'd go down for naps and I'd get quality time with Mom while they slept.  And then I'd always plan on leaving for dinner at home, but most days ended up staying.  It was just so good to be near Mom and the rest of the family, it was hard to tear myself away.
Mom was in the hospital thru June 4 which meant she didn't get to be at Tyler's graduation from 8th grade on June 2.  I went with my girls and met my Dad and Aunt Penny there.  It was hot and long (like most graduations).  Ty looked so handsome.  It's hard to believe he's done with middle school.  I found myself remembering my own 8th grade graduation.  It was 1998 and Tyler was just 1 year old.  What a contrast.  But anyway, I was glad I got to be there to share that with him (even though I had to take the girls home a little early--they were going crazy on those bleachers!).

What a cutie...my little bro Tyler on June 2

Megan, me, and Brooke--32 and 4/7 weeks along

While we were at the graduation, back at the house there was a beautiful planter going in.  It was a gift from a long-time family friend and coworker of my dad.  It was one of just many kind, kind things done for Mom and our family. 

After dropping the girls off with my sis-in-law Amy, I headed up to the hospital with 4 of my aunts. By this time, all 5 of my Mom's sisters had arrived but Aunt Tami stayed behind to oversee the planting. When the rest of us got to the hospital, Mom was resting so we all grabbed some lunch in the cafeteria.  When we got in with Mom, she was in such good spirits.  It was just a joy to be with her.  She was so excited to see all the sisters and happily showed off how her hair and eyebrows were coming back.  That was such an interesting phenomenon--here she was with a body that was on its way out and yet it could still manage to make her hair grow as if she was healthy as can be.

Mom and I on June 2

Terri, Vicki, Mom, Penny, and Tobi on June 2

Tired cousins after playing all afternoon, June 2