So far this year has not been great. While dealing with health issues of my own, my dear Mother passed away last week. She was 96 years old and had a good long life but that doesn't seem to really matter now. She's gone and I miss her.
I visited her on the day she passed. She was up and in the dining room of the nursing home. She was on oxygen and her breathing was raspy. She was working to get each breath. I knew then she would not make it through the night. When I got home, I messaged my nieces and nephews. I wasn't sure anyone was letting them know what was happening and, sure enough, they didn't know. About one hour after I let them know she was passing, my sister called me to let me know it happened. So I had to message them all again to let them know she was gone.
My Mom was an incredible woman. I'm sure everyone feels that way about their mother but she was. She worked two jobs for most of her life, making sure we had all that we needed. She lived on her own and drove to and from church and the grocery store until she was 93. Then she just decided it was time to stop driving and she happily handed over her keys and car. When she could no longer do the steps at her house, she moved into my sister's house and had to allow someone else to take care of her for a while. She hated that! Then, on Christmas Eve, a couple of years ago, she had a stroke. My sister did her best to take care of her at home but Mom never really bounced back from the stroke and she become someone who require total care. Eventually, it became too much and the family knew it was time to find a home. St. Joseph's Home was the best place for her. My Mom was very religious and she enjoyed that the home was run by Nuns. She got to know all of the aides there and they were all so friendly and nice to us, the family. Overall, as happy as she could be in a nursing home, my Mom was happy there. They took good care of her.
But now she's gone. Her funeral will be this week. I know I will be a mess. But I have all the good memories to take with me. And now, that has to be enough.
Showing posts with label Mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mother. Show all posts
Monday, February 3, 2014
Monday, September 16, 2013
Amazing woman...
I know I've written about her before but I'm doing it again...so indulge me. Thanks.
My mother is an amazing woman. She is 95 years old and in a nursing home. She eats soft food, a recent development. She cannot walk. Requires total hands on care from others. She can speak but often her words elude her. Yet, she is an amazing woman.
Although she has been the high moral gage of our family, I have also seen her show enormous physical strength throughout my life. She is Depression Era strong and those of us who are blessed with parents who survived the Great Depression knows exactly what that mean. It means that she was able to feed and clothe six kids and put them through Catholic school by working nearly every day of her life. We never suffered hunger or poverty, though we were poor. She made things she wanted to have and cherished those she had to save to buy. We had an entire room in our house that we were never allowed to go into for the longest time. It was the one with the "good" furniture and that was only for "company". If she wanted to redecorate, she did it herself and that meant all of it, the carpeting, the repainting, the new wallpaper. There was no spare money to pay someone to do those things. And honestly she would have thought it silly to pay someone to do something she was fully capable of doing. I'm writing this blog right now on an old desk she hand painted and had in her bedroom for years. She took out a wall with a sledge hammer when she was 75 years old because she wanted to make two small bedrooms into a master suite. When the basement suddenly flooded, which is did a lot when we first moved into my parent's first "new" house, she would gather all towels and blankets and stop the flood and then stay up into the wee hours of morning cleaning it all up and washing everything. She taught us to be strong women and worried about us as if we would always be her "little girls".
Last Thursday, I got a call from my sister. My mom choked on her lunch and they did the Heimlich maneuver no less than 7 times. She's 95 and weighs about 90 pounds. She turned blue but never lost consciousness. They took her by ambulance to the hospital to get her checked out. Surely, at her age and in her condition all that crunching had to have broken a rib or two.
Nope.
Not a one.
My mom is an amazing woman. Even the ER doc was amazed that she came through that ordeal with nothing. And, in her semi-confused state, nothing means not even a clear memory of what exactly happened. So they've adjusted her diet to soft foods and she's no worse for wear. I hope I have her genes. She is the strongest woman I know.
My mother is an amazing woman. She is 95 years old and in a nursing home. She eats soft food, a recent development. She cannot walk. Requires total hands on care from others. She can speak but often her words elude her. Yet, she is an amazing woman.
Although she has been the high moral gage of our family, I have also seen her show enormous physical strength throughout my life. She is Depression Era strong and those of us who are blessed with parents who survived the Great Depression knows exactly what that mean. It means that she was able to feed and clothe six kids and put them through Catholic school by working nearly every day of her life. We never suffered hunger or poverty, though we were poor. She made things she wanted to have and cherished those she had to save to buy. We had an entire room in our house that we were never allowed to go into for the longest time. It was the one with the "good" furniture and that was only for "company". If she wanted to redecorate, she did it herself and that meant all of it, the carpeting, the repainting, the new wallpaper. There was no spare money to pay someone to do those things. And honestly she would have thought it silly to pay someone to do something she was fully capable of doing. I'm writing this blog right now on an old desk she hand painted and had in her bedroom for years. She took out a wall with a sledge hammer when she was 75 years old because she wanted to make two small bedrooms into a master suite. When the basement suddenly flooded, which is did a lot when we first moved into my parent's first "new" house, she would gather all towels and blankets and stop the flood and then stay up into the wee hours of morning cleaning it all up and washing everything. She taught us to be strong women and worried about us as if we would always be her "little girls".
Last Thursday, I got a call from my sister. My mom choked on her lunch and they did the Heimlich maneuver no less than 7 times. She's 95 and weighs about 90 pounds. She turned blue but never lost consciousness. They took her by ambulance to the hospital to get her checked out. Surely, at her age and in her condition all that crunching had to have broken a rib or two.
Nope.
Not a one.
My mom is an amazing woman. Even the ER doc was amazed that she came through that ordeal with nothing. And, in her semi-confused state, nothing means not even a clear memory of what exactly happened. So they've adjusted her diet to soft foods and she's no worse for wear. I hope I have her genes. She is the strongest woman I know.
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