This will most likely be an incoherent rambling about my life the past week or so. It will be one of those posts that let you see inside me a little. You may not want to be inside my head, or inside my heart, and some of you may read this and just be more confused, thats okay, its confusing in here, so you will have company without a doubt.
Most of you know my mom died on December 23rd. There was no autopsy so the exact cause remains unknown, but the exact cause is also not important. Mom, Cheryl Wilson to those who dont know, has been on dialysis for around 5 years, she chose to do this when her kidneys failed even though she was never on a donor list because she was not able to have a transplant. She also had 14 heart stints, 3 of them in the left main artery, that only has relevance to the few people who know what that means. For the rest of you, the Cleveland Clinic is the only place an obese women over 50 can get a left main stint, all other hospitals call it too high risk, or just impossible. Mom also had various metal plates and pins holding her appendages together, as well as a bad case of diabetic neurapathy. She had several eye surgeries as well, and was mostly blind, a hole in one ear drum, so she was nearly deaf as well. She was on oxygen 24/7 and slept with a CPAP machine so she could breath when she laid down. Mom held on to life with both hands and with God's help. She made the decision years ago that she wanted to first, meet Gracie, and then spend time with her so that Gracie could get to know her grandma. She also was afraid of leaving dad alone. Well, once she undertook this fight the battle lines were drawn, and mom won hands down. Gracie loves her grandma and knows her well. Dad is a mess without her in the house. However, dad is going to adjust, he is much stronger than anyone, myself included, could have ever imagined.
Some background here, dad is the original Wilson introvert. He defined the term, and then expanded upon it. He is one of the guys who just does, he doesnt say, he just does. Talking and communication are not strong points, or even needed most time, just do what is required. When Winston Churchill coined the phrase, " its not enough to do our best, sometimes we must simply do what is required", he wasnt speaking of my dad, but he might as well have been. For years now, dad has just been doing what is required. As time has progressed, I have learned ( oh so slowly have I learned) more and more about my dad and what he is capable of just doing. I had never seen him so happy, tearfully happy, as when we first told him about Gracie. This record display of joy was soon eclipsed by the introduction of Gracie to grandpa some many months later. When we landed at the airport after our long journey to China, it was just a little awkward in knowing that no blood relative of mine or of Angie's family was at the airport waiting for us. Angie's family were all gathered at the hospital because in just a matter of hours Angie's dad was going to pass to go be with Jesus. No one from my family was able to come because it was too physically challenging for them to make it down there so early in the morning. My grandparents dont drive at night, and mom was not well enough to make the trip. All of this said, I did wonder why dad didnt come down by himself, but I know him and the introvert he is, he wouldn't make that trip alone. I now believe that to be wrong, I think that maybe he didnt want to make the trip alone because it wouldnt have been fair to mom, so even though he was busting inside to see Gracie, he did was was required, he just did.
Let me back up some. I use my cell phone as an alarm clock. (I have a back up in case this doesnt work) I went to bed with the intention of going to work the next day. At midnight or so the phone apparently rang and I must have thought it was morning, too early to rise, so I shoved the phone under the pillow and went back to sleep. At 3:30 A.M I heard a loud bang on the door downstairs. Bleary eyed and now frazzled I staggered downstairs adorned only in my boxers to see what was going on. I remember thinking to myself I should put something else on, but deciding that whomever would knock at this hour would survive the sight of me in my draws. When I peeked out the window and turned on the light I saw two Hamilton Township Cruisers on the street. I opened the door to two officers who simply said, "call your dad, he needs you, your mom is in the hospital" The second officer must have noticed my deer in the headlight expression because he repeated it a few times, " call your dad, call your dad, call your dad." I have run to the hospital many many times before, I have received this call many many times before, it has never been pretty, but this time already seemed different. Once I got back up the stairs I found my phone in the bed and noticed I had 32 missed calls. Not a good sign. I checked the number and it wasnt one I knew. Just then it rang again, it was moms good friend Jolina. She told me to get there quick and told me where to go, bless her for being able to be there. I knew before I even got out of the driveway that I was too late to see mom one last time, but I also knew I needed to get there for dad. On the car ride over there I gathered my strength through my faith because I knew I was going to need to be strong. I knew mom was gone without being told so, and I knew that her faith will land her with her Father in eternity, so I was able to feel peace in that sense, I just needed strength for this world at this time, and it was provided in good measure. I knew I needed to call on Him for strength now because I had been here before. In 1988 or so I rode with my grandparents to meet up with both mom and dad in the hospital after a car wreck. First I saw dad, he was bloody but doing fine, then grandpa took me to see mom. I was not fine, I stopped breathing entirely. I froze, my chest tightened, my body spasmed and I stopped breathing. I staggered out of the room and tried to breath but couldnt, grandpa drug me into a bathroom and splashed cold water on my face and talked me into taking a breath. That breath hurt my lungs and everything else, my body was in acute physical pain. Later on a doctor explained that I had a severe anxiety attack and if I has blacked out I would have started breathing again on my own, so it wasnt too serious, but if they became a patterned behaviour, I would need help. I lied and told him that it had never happened before, well, almost a lie, that was 100 times worse than anything that had happened before but it wasnt an isolated incident either. I havent had anxiety attack in years, but I could little afford one right now, so I leaned on my Saviour to provide me with peace and my request was granted ten fold, shaken down and running over.
When I arrive at the hospital, Jolina is waiting for me outside. She has been crying, alot, but my suspicions are re-inforced by her body language. She doesnt say it verbally but I know mom is gone already. As she takes me to the room I see all the nurses at the nurses station look up at me with that sense of knowing, they know what they assume I do not, they make eye contact and then look away as not to let their eyes say too much to me, its too late for that ladies, too late. As I open the curtain, Jolina tells dad that I am here, and then she steps back outside. I focus my attention on dad. He is so weak at the moment, he comes towards me and buries his head in my chest and said, " she didnt make it, momma didnt make it, she fought, she fought hard, the doctors fought and fought, they brought her back 4 times, but she didnt make it." It was a strange experience for me, dad had always been, and tried to be, the family stone, the strong one, but in this he didnt have the strength to even pretend, he just let me be strong and comfort him. This is a roll I was well prepared for. He then told me to go see her and he left the room. I sat next to my mom and prayed over her lifeless body for a moment. I laid my hand on her head at the end and simply said to her, " and now you are at rest, and now you will awaken healed, in Jesus name, Amen." The trauma nurse that was trying to be discreet and get things put away and the tubes removed, etc.. was still in the room, he heard me and hit his own silent tear filled melt down, he left the room quickly and a lady nurse came in to finish removing to tubes a little while later. I dont think I said anything wrong, so I hope he was touched by the Holy Spirit and not something else, but I have never seen a nurse leave a room so fast.
Dad, Jolina and I talked for a while longer in the hallway. Actually dad rambled and we listened would be more accurate. We were both just trying to comfort him. He went back in one last time after the charge nurse asked if he wanted to donate any organs. Moms cornea were used to bring sight back to two local people. That was the only body part that was not destroyed by her disease or blunt trauma of her car wreck. I then took dad home for a few hours. He wanted to be alone, we introverts are funny that way.
A few hours later I was back at his house to take him to the funeral home, the cemetery etc. He needed to make arrangements. Nothing was preplanned, but he knew what she wanted. The funeral director was a horses ass in my opinion. You would think that people in that line of work would have more of a clue how to deal with people, this Frau Blooker had no clue. I finally had to get a bit testy with her because she kept pushing dad for answers, he couldnt speak, his wife had only been gone for a few hours, give the man a minute would ya!! Dad was still doing what was required, I was still being strong. I wasnt numb mind you, but I could feel external strength pour into me every time I needed it. Together we picked a casket, picked flowers, etc.. Dad knew what he wanted, he just had trouble saying it sometimes. I had to translate for the Frau a few times. ( I keep hearing horses neigh every time I say Frau Blooker )
Dad picked the cemetery plot, he picked on right in line with the WLW radio tower which litterly towers over everything in the area. He said he wanted that because he could look out his back door and see the tower and know where she was. ( Again, he surprised me )
We went to lunch together, just the two of us. This might seem an insignificant thing to most, but I dont remember the last time, if ever, we just went out to lunch the two of us. Even when we were in Cleveland Clinic, or some other hospital, I would go eat alone or with my grandparents, he would stay with her and either eat with her, not eat, or eat alone late in the day. Dang those introverts. During lunch dad said more words that I can remember him saying in the last year. He didnt impart much information, but he just needed to talk, and talk, and talk. It was good to just hear his voice.
Somewhere in the midst of all of this I got charged with making the phone calls, acquiring a pastor for the service and a few other items. It was good that he not only allowed me to help, but he asked me to do the things he was not able to do. He also warned me that he wasnt sure how he was going to get through the visitation, he didnt want to talk to people yet and he doesnt do well in social settings so this was going to be tough on him. I told him I had him covered and I could do anything that was required. ( I did inherit that trait, I too am an introvert, I too just do what is required, damn the cost )
I do not mean to be disrespectful, but there are a lot of things about these events that just have a humorous side to them. There, you have been warned...
While dad is in the dialysis clinic speaking with moms nurses, I start making the phone calls for him in the car. I had to call about 30 people. It is hard to make these calls but I also understand it is hard to receive these calls, particularly if you dont really know the person calling you. People making or receiving the calls struggle for the appropriate things to say. Some people do well with being appropriate, others do not. Case in point, one lady I called said, " MAYBE she is not in pain anymore" ( I kid you not ) I simply said, " I'm pretty sure she's not". One of my wifes sayings is " Lord put your arm around my shoulder and your hand over my mouth". That phrase came to mind as I finished up with her. Another lady just kept saying, " Bless her heart" which is appropriate if you say it once, or even a few times, after the 12th time, you have left appropriate and hit something else. The hardest phone calls were the ones to people I knew. I had to be the one to call Grandpa. They have now survived both of their children. You shouldnt have to bury your kids. Grandma has Alzheimer's so for days she just couldnt hang on to the information. She kept asking, Grandpa kept telling her, she kept re-living finding out for the first time, Grandpa just kept re-living it with her. Now that she sort of keeps the information, she just cries all the time.
Through all of this I had been able to rely on my strength as provided by God's grace. I was able to be strong and do what ever dad asked, I had been strong with calling Grandpa, moms best friend since they were little kids, all of that. I was strong with my daughter. I was able to do all things through Christ who was strengthening me. Well, God knows me too well. He knows I need help with all things, not just being strong. I have many pastors in my life. My first pastor, Pastor Mark, was going to do the service, mom had mentioned that to me in the past and I was able to arrange it with him. My newest Pastor, Pastor Brian, has only been in my life for a few short weeks, be he was already rallying the brothers and sisters to come and do a great service for my family. But there is another Pastor that God moved into action in this. A gentleman I have never met in person. Pastor Charlie Tuna ( Officially Pastor Charles Eldred ) from California. I have some odd and lovely bond with Pastor Charlie. We share an inexplicable brotherhood that just cant be defined or explained. Having never spoken with him I received a phone call from him. He called to pray with me so that I could hear the prayer and not simply know he was praying. Hearing his voice caused me to violently melt down. I sobbed for the first time, this release of angst was God reminding me that I needed to mourn in between the times I needed to be strong. I thank God for all the Pastors in my life, but I want to give a special shout out right here to Charlie for answering Gods call at just the right time... Thank you my brother.
The next part of the saga is the funeral home. I must admit that I was a little concerned about who would and wouldnt show up. Who could or couldnt is not really an issue, but what I didnt want to happen to dad was for him to be there and feel sad because the place was empty all night. I didnt think this would happen, but I knew it could. A lot of people live out of town, are elderly, cant stand the funeral thing right now, etc. All valid reasons to be certain. My concerns were quickly put aside as people came in one after another. I will mention only a few of them in this blog. I was happy for dad to see 3 of moms dialysis nurses come, it meant a lot to him that they did so. Many of moms friends were able to make it, most of them on their canes. Many of dad extended family ( long story, wont go there) showed up, that was good for him to see as well. Moms life long friend made it in from New Jersey as well. Then there were the people who came because of me. My boss not only came to the visitation, but both he and his wife made the funeral. This was a huge deal because this left no body to mind the store so to speak. They went the extra mile to find a stand in on the phones and came anyway, this was a big deal to me. I must also say I was surprised at seeing an old friend that I had not seen in many years. In my younger days three boys roamed Reading Ohio getting into mischief together. My mom really loved Dennis and Darin and we misspent our youth together. It was good to see Dennis and his wife walk through that door, I hadnt seen him in a few years, but he still felt he should come and I appreciated that, and it made my dad cry, which was actually good. I didnt cry at seeing him, I was just happy to see him. A little while later I saw the other one, Darin walked in. When I saw him I cried a little. I knew this was hard for him to be there, I know just how hard it was, but I wont share that. I went and gave the big man a big hug, not the manly hug either, it was the kind where I hoped he didnt notice my tears dropping on his shirt kind of hug. Then things got bad for me. I had seen a lady walk in with Darin and she froze me for a second. Momma Doris is her name. Momma Doris is Darin's mom. Momma Doris is a lady whom I have always had a tremendous amount of respect for. She raised four awesome kids mostly on her own. Momma Doris always had room for one more kid around though, and I took my turn being that kid. There has always been a special place in my heart for her, she was always there for me, and as hard as it was, she was there for me again this night. I didnt let her see my tears, but we talked pretty briefly and then I had to breath someplace alone for a minute to make the tears stop again. ( Damn introverts ) I had one more hard thing to do this night, my mom had asked me if in the past if Darin would be a pall bearer. Once he said he was coming to the funeral as well, I asked him, he said yes.
Note that just needs put someplace and here seems good. Fiber optic angels are tacky, do not send on to a funeral home, this has been a public service announcement. I dont care if they have a hair net and a light saber, they are still tacky. Also, please do not walk up to a casket and say audibly, she (they) look just like their sleeping. No they dont okay....... Also dont say they look almost life like, it make you sound almost like a person, but not quit.
Continuing on the lighter side of things, Gracie, oh my little Gracie. First, she took the initial shock pretty hard, but recovered quick. She understands the functional reality, she wont get to see Grandma anymore, but Grandma is not in pain or suffering anymore, she no longer needs wheels to move or a hose to breath etc. A dear friend called the day before visitation they took Gracie for the evening, so Gracie got to skip that to have a play date instead. This was awesome, thanks Judith and Jeff. On Christmas eve, Gracie wrote Grandpa a note, she made him her very own card, it said, " Merry Christmas Grandpa, sorry Grandma died, love Gracie"
I decided not to give him the card, at least not now. Gracie has a soft heart and expresses herself in a pure manner, if not in a tactful one.
On the way to the graveside Gracie asked, " where is the hole "
Before the funeral Gracie asked while trying to get a handle on things, " is Grandpa going to plant Grandma in his garden" when told no she said, " Is he going to plant her in our garden?" when told no she huffed, " where are they planting Grandma!!"
At the graveside Gracie asked if they were going to put her in the hole now.
Well, enough of the lighter stuff. Gracie did well at the funeral, she cried really big tears most of the time, but when it was done, it was done and she undertood.
Pastor Mark did a wonderful service, as I knew he would, but even my dad mentioned to me that he was glad Mark did it and said it was well d0ne. I wrote out something for Mark to read that my dad asked me to print off and give him a copy of , so I guess my part was okay as well. I need to thank Pastor Mark here too becuase it was so much easier than it could have been if I had to find someone who had never met mom and didnt know me or her. Pastor Mark did so well in part because he knew us, even though mom didnt attend his church, he knew us and had been to the hospital to pray with mom in the past. Thank you Pastor Mark for answering Gods call in this.....
I will wind this up now with talking about my current Pastor. Pastor Brian leads the church we just started attending a few short weeks ago. After our second week he came to our home and spent hours talking with us and getting to know us and we him. A few weeks later, without any prompting at all he springs into action. After the funeral people were invited to come to our house because they could not go to dads house. ( dont ask why) Paster Brian got some folks together, got a ton of food together and let himself in while we were at the funeral. He came to the visitation to meet dad as well. When we arrived home after the funeral, we were greated with lots of food, several people there to help, and a whole lot of love. We didnt even know these people, and just bearly know the pastor, but they came, they loved us, and they provided a service for us that is beyond what can be measured or explained. This meant a lot to me and Angie, but it really touched my dad as well. Thank you Pastor Brian for answering Gods call in this..... I hope and pray that this act helps to be a catylist to get my dad into church....
Now we are all trying to adjust to the new normal. I talk with dad for 45 minutes or so each day, its amazing that it can happen like that. He even asked today if he could get a booster seat and come pick up Gracie and take her out for a while,,,,,,, That has never happened, and yes you can dad, yes you can...
Well, enough is enough, I will stop here, for now................
