Facebook in Heaven

I had a really enjoyable Mother's Day today.  It was wonderful to get to relax, play, and enjoy real quality family time.  In the back of my head I was working up what I was feeling, what I had to say to my Mom for the day.  I'm thankful that I had the strength to enjoy Gwenyth and Rory, it wouldn't be fair to them if I didn't.

This early evening after all of my special events that were planned out for me from breakfast to singing, flowers to crafts, and art projects to a picnic, I was able to sit down and say something special to my Mom.

I hopped online and sent her the message on Facebook.  For a few moments while typing, I asked myself if I really thought that Mom was checking her Facebook from Heaven.  Well...not exactly, I guess.  So why did I post on her board, why did I repost on my own?  I'm no psychologist so I can't tell you what's going on inside my head, but I find myself doing it because it feels good in my heart.  I mean, why do I spend my time blogging about her?  Or about anthing else that I say out loud?  Because for years, since the 6th grade at least, I've found my outlet in writing.  I write privately too, but to shout it out on the rooftops the immense love that I have for my Mom is nothing that I want to keep from my family and friends.  So while some people may wonder why people who've lost someone do shout-outs on forums, blogs, Facebook, it's because it feels good inside us and hopefully our words can help someone else feel good inside them.  I hope that sharing my feelings of love will help spread love, spread the love that my Mom had and that she taught me.

And today this is what I had to share:

Hiya Mamma. Justin and the kids went all out for me today to celebrate Mother's Day. I got to sleep in for a bit, Gwenyth gently woke me up and asked if Rory could come into the bedroom, of course. So Rory came marching in with his performing hat on and playing his plastic coffee canister "drum" using a sand shovel to bang on it all while singing as loud as he can. It was a perfect way to get out of bed. I remember how you got me out of bed, "Daylight in the swamp!" or your singing, "Good morning, good morning, to you!" ...okay okay, so if that didn't work I got a good ol', "Anne Kathryn!" I don't forget you waking me up because I was quite the one to sleep in so you did it....A LOT. So I came out into the living room where Gwenyth sang a song that she wrote especially for me, it was beautiful. Then I got to open all of these perfect handmade cards and crafts from both Gwenyth and Rory. Gwenyth brought her at-school project ideas home for Rory to do for me, she's such a mother in the making herself. She made me a card, wrote beautifully for me (I cried), and I opened a pretty pansy plant in a Gwenyth-decorated flower pot. I remembered the sunshine that I made for you in about the 3rd grade...you had it hanging over the kitchen sink in Isanti for a long time. As she gave me her perfect crafts and art projects, I remembered so many of the things that I made for you and I know that I put all of my heart in them. I'm not nearly as talented as Gwenyth is so it sure means a lot knowing that you still loved my mediocre art. Justin topped off the morning with roses from him, tulips from the kids, bacon and homemade pancakes, your recipe, the best! We had a picnic too. What a beautiful day that I got to spend with my family. I miss you so much too. I remember last Mother's Day very well and we knew it was our last one with you. It breaks my heart that I don't get to see you this year for the special day where I celebrate you, my Mom. This is the last official holiday of "firsts" without you and every single one of them has been hard, very hard. I don't miss you any less and even without you here, I love you more every day. Happy Mother's Day, Mommy. xoxoxo

Her Baby

"You'll always be my baby."

Weekend #2 May 11, 12, and 13th including Mother's Day.  Mom said to me, "You'll always be my baby."  All the other times she said or treated me this way, I was 7, 13, 19, 21, 24 yrs-old and before after and in between....and all of those other times I was ready to be considered something, anything, other than the baby.  This time, I loved hearing it.

I don't remember much of that weekend.  I've gone and waited too long to continue the journey like I had planned.  I've been tired.  Today I checked the results of my blood work for thyroid function and from 4 months ago to today, I've gone from normal to now diagnosed with hypothyroidism.  Well, that makes sense as I'm symptomatic (you can google if you don't already know).  Not that I'm glad that like my Mom and sisters, my endocrine system is putzy, but I am glad to know that there's been a good reason for everything else going on and meds can help.  Anyways...I took notes to help me remember as little things came to mind.  "You'll always be my baby," though, I didn't need a note for that.  I'll never forget that.

What I do remember is that we were all there; Bernadette, John, Elisabeth, Shawn, me, Dad and all of the kids...Justin was able to visit too, but for a short time as he had to work.  Changes were happening and faster than what I had expected.  It was nice to see that Mom stopped wearing her wig and went al natural, well almost, cousin Nico added a little color.  She had soft baby hair that had grown back since the chemo, not as thick and healthy as she had, but it was more comfortable to be without a wig or cap and we wanted her to be comfortable.  She was thinning out, but still looked like herself.  It was beginning to become more difficult for Mom to get around and medical equipment started coming into the house.  Mom was a little less herself with being on meds (so many meds in this process) and well...going through those changes that the body does in such a situation.  Things were set up like in a clinic, like a nurses station.  With Elisabeth in control of the care-giving, you know that it was organized and done, as Dad says, "proper."  I took lots of pictures that weekend of Mom and the kids and with us girls and with Dad and the babies and cousins together.  We cooked an amazing noon dinner on Sunday, including mashed potatoes and gravy (of course).  This was the last dinner that I got to sit at the table and eat with Mom.

That time of my visit had come, the end of the weekend, the farewell that I dreaded.  She was so sure that we'd see each other again and I was not.  I said, "I'll see you next weekend, right?"  She responded in surprised tone in that I was going to visit again, after two weekends in a row.  It was during our goodbyes and I couldn't help but to drag it out as I had the previous weekend and then I cried.  I was so afraid to leave this time because there had been so many changes and I was afraid...so afraid.  I was afraid that this goodbye would be the last.  Again, my tears were met with Mom's warm hug, oh she made you feel so good with her hugs, sincere and loving hugs.  I wished her a Happy Mother's Day and she said, "You'll always be my baby."  In that moment those words traveled through me so differently than ever before.  I was so glad that I was her baby.  I wanted to be her baby.  From that moment through the end and in many moments since, I've longed to be her newborn, her 7, 13, 19, 21, 24.......yr-old baby.  For so long I tried to escape being the baby and now it's all I want.  Any baby of hers as long as I can be in her arms again.

She is-

I have lots to say still about so many moments with my mother and I'm going to do better at blogging this year.  Better than last year is my goal.  ;-)  This should be easy for me.  Tonight, though, I have a different thought to put in writing.

Every once in a while I get phone calls from Gwenyth's biological father.  The longest break from hearing from him was for about 2 years; when Gwenyth was 3 or so.  I thought that I'd never hear from him again.  But I did and I have plenty of times since.  Until Justin adopts Gwenyth, he still has rights and should have the ability to contact us, so the writing goes.  He usually doesn't have much to say...mostly he doesn't want to pay child support.  I never expect the court-ordered $50/month, nor do I ever see it...well, maybe $6 here or $17 there.  This time, though, he sounded different.  He B.S-ed for a while and I finally asked him what was going on.  I asked about his parents (knowing that his Dad was getting pretty old) and that was exactly "it."  His Dad had passed away a couple of weeks ago.  He knew that my Mom had passed and I knew his Dad...so maybe this is what he wanted to talk about??  My heart was sad for him that out of all the people in his life, that me, his displaced "baby-mamma" is who he had to reach out to.  I've never really felt bad for him...his path is what he chose for himself with the decisions that he made, but he didn't decide for his Dad to pass away.  So I felt sadness.

He talked about the final few months of his Dad who was in his 80's or possibly even his 90's.  He was a healthy man for his age, but had had a stroke and wasn't brought to the hospital right away and it all went down hill from there.  He was able to visit him often in the nursing home and although his Dad was confused as to where he was, he appreciated his son's company and the food that he brought him.  I took a turn and told him the one story that I had for him about his Dad and it made him laugh in acknowledgement that it sounded just like him.

The conversation was different.  I can't say that I enjoyed it, but I can't say that I didn't.  I knew who this person was...a 30-something kid who lost a parent...it was me a few months back.  Lost, sad, confused, mad, astonished, not knowing what was next, not knowing what to do next.

The topic shifted and he apologized for the past.  Then he had to get off the phone.  He called back when it was family/dinner time so I concluded the conversation and told him I was sorry about his Dad and then it was over.

He texted later, asked about Gwenyth, I sent him an updated picture.  He responded that it made him cry.  ...he came to realization that he didn't even know her.  This was his decision, though, and absolutely his loss.  I'd cry too if I didn't know her because she's so much to me and I'm the luckiest person in the world to have her in my life.  So I got to thinking of who she is.  And this is what I came up with (plus so much more)-

Gwenyth Isis is-

She is my daughter.

She is my heart.

She is more like my oldest sister than me at times.  Reserved.  I don’t understand it, really...how did that happen?  She’s an outgoing person when comfortable with us, then shy and passive around others.  Maybe that’s like...him......

She loves to sing and dance.  She has good pitch and with some lessons will be a good singer.  Her dancing is a little awkward…again, how did that happen?

She knows more musicals than the average adult.  She knows all the songs to the musicals too.

She’s not into sports like I thought she would be (yet).  Swimming she likes.  She cheers for the Vikings.

She is a hard worker and always a good helper.  She always helps Grampa in the garden and around the yard up north…she often works for a fee :-) .

She is an artist.  Her drawing amazes me.

She loves to knit and is excited to learn how to sew.

She is an entrepreneur.  She has great ideas to sell her art-work and she is willing to work to make a buck.

She is a saver.  She saved all of her money from all birthdays for the longest time.  Her original plan was to save for a car, but once she was interested in gadgets, her focus switched.  She has purchased an iPod (w/a little help) and even her own computer.  She was able to afford a computer because she asked for gift cards for her birthday and nothing else.  

She is very driven.

She has a big heart.

She is a very  good, no…AMAZING big sister, the best.

She can get an attitude…but what little girl doesn’t.  The attitude only shows up really when she is tired or simply needs a change of scenery.

She isn’t the most popular girl, but I don’t expect or want her to be.  We've learned that little popular girls in the 3rd grade = mean/judgemental and everything that Gwenyth is not (everything that I don't want her to be).

She is so smart.  Not the top in her class, but she could be.  When she gets things wrong on her school work, it’s not because she doesn’t know how to do it, it’s because she goes too fast or doesn’t read all the directions or misses a step.  Math is her forte…she loves to read.

She is my everything.  She saved me.

She made me strong.

She changed me.  I was tough before her and tried to be strong or pretended to be strong….but she….she is what really made me strong.

She changed me.

She is why I succeeded in school and in my career.

She gave me life.  A goal.  A reason.

Our own lives should be reason enough, right?  Well, they should be, but until her...honestly...that wasn’t true for me.  She helped me learn that my life is reason enough and I have even more reason with her in it.

And then, before I knew it…My life went from 2 reasons to 4!

4 amazing and wonderful people, our modern family.

Because of - Gwenyth Isis.

My listener...my pharmaceutical alternative

I think of Mom often, every day.  I especially think of her when I'm stuck in a moment where I need her and where I'd usually reach for my phone and give her a call.  Mom always listened to me.  She was the best listener.  It didn't matter if it was morning, noon, or night; if she was at work or baking a pie, she always set aside time to give me her full attention.  For the past four months I've been calling "home" to talk like I did with Mom, but I don't get the fulfillment.  No offense to my sister, Elisabeth or Dad, but Mom was simply better at listening to me, at listening to Anne.  To top it off, she was also the best at knowing how to respond to me, to respond to Anne.  I guess I've always been a little "special"...the baby of the family, the black sheep, the over-reactor, the emotional one, the one that really needs to voice things, the one that let's everyone/everything get to me, the one that has a hard time shaking things off and letting things go...  My worst traits are quite the pain in life as they can hold me back and get me into trouble and be hurtful not just to me, but to those I love; trust me, if I could turn them off, I would.  While I haven't figured out how to just simply be "normal," I have recognized these short fallings and I did figure out, for the most part, how to minimize the negative impacts.  My answer to helping me in a situation was, 1) keep my mouth shut in a position and at that moment and wait until after #2 2) talk it out with Mom.  Mom had all my answers, or maybe I had all my answers, but Mom helped me find them.  While I kept a few secrets from Mom, like the party upstairs while her and Dad were home...those small things were truly nothing, Mom knew me the best.  Without Mom, I've been lost because I've been stuck at #1 w/no #2.  A good friend of mine rescued me a couple times and I'm grateful to her.  I even posted on Facebook once (this is a no-no according to Mom, but I thought that I handled it okay).  I suppose I could pay someone to listen to me....do they work via phone on my way home from work?  Who has time to talk any other way?

Well, so far the only solution that I've found is to become more like my Mom herself.  While it was natural for Mom, I've been practicing patients (deep breathing, situational meditation) and thankfully I have an amazing husband that is in love with me and does a great job listening when I just need to get it out.  Mostly, I'm practicing that life is as it is, one of those final lessons that Mom was able to teach me.  Mom's life was as it was, cancer.  Life as it is and take care of it with care.  Have I lost you?  In my own words:  1) Do not surrender  2) Do not spaz  3) Make an educated decision  4) It's not everyone's business (working on #4)  5) Act accordingly  ...these are (some of) the things that I witnessed my Mom do in life and that I have made as my goal.  My 2-step plan was much more desirable and I prefer the benefits of it's #2, but if I just pouted about it and didn't figure out how to adjust then I'd be failing #1 of the new plan.

I feel like I'm going through withdrawal of my "medication," emotional ups and downs, times of being hopeful, times of failure, but I do plan to succeed.  I can succeed because my Mom, my listener, my pharmaceutical alternative is still with me, has still taught me, and has helped me find the answer within myself to deal with my own faults.  She will always be with me, will always teach me, and will never stop helping me.  Thank you, Mom.

Mashed Potatoes and Gravy...

In the last few weeks I've been reminded of Mom.  I made a Sunday dinner with mashed potatoes and gravy.  The gravy is Mom's recipe.  The first bite I had, I closed my eyes and for the moment I was at her dining room table and she was behind me in her kitchen dishing up her own plate.  It was so real.  The flashback was like in the movie Ratatouille when Anton Ego takes his first bite and the scene takes us to his childhood with his mother in the kitchen.

Gwenyth and I had a date night together and she chose to eat at Red Lobster.  The last time we were there was when Mom was sick, but before hospice.  I looked back at the booth where we all sat.  I wanted to be in that moment again, I wanted to see her sitting across from me again.

Today I took the kids to the Ordway Theater in St. Paul to watch The Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra.  The last time I was there was when we (Mom, Dad, Bernadette, Elisabeth, and myself) walked through a huge snow storm to go watch "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat."  Mom and Dad thought that they were going to be going on their own, a gift from us.  My sisters flew into Minnesota and we surprised them the night before the show.  That was the last time that all 5 of us were together before Mom was diagnosed.  I looked at where we sat in the theater and again, I wanted to be in that moment with Mom.  I wanted to be at the hotel with my sisters giggling before we surprised them, at the pub eating dinner, and back at the show enjoying one of our favorite musicals together.

While my memories make me wish that I could go back in time, I remember the message at Mom's service.  Mom isn't gone...her spirit and her love lives here forever.  I know that her spirit and love lives on because I feel it every day.  It's the physical that's missing.  The song that Mom chose for her "celebration" was "This World Is Not My Home" (see lyrics below) which was another lesson from my Mom.  Mom passed through and we don't belong here, physically, forever.  We all are passing through and one day will be together again.  While I can wish that I could go back to those moments, living on with everything that Mom has left and leaving behind our presence and love is what we are supposed to do as we pass through this world.  Myself and everyone who eats my cooking certainly can enjoy Mom's love in my mashed potatoes and gravy...correction, Mom's mashed potatoes and gravy.  And when I have these memories, these moments of going back in time in my mind, I will smile and welcome them.  I never want them to end as long as I am in this world, this world that lingers of Mom's love everywhere.

This World Is Not My Home

This world is not my home I'm just passing through my treasures are laid up somewhere beyond the blue the angels beckon me from Heaven's open door and I can't feel at home in this world anymoreO Lord you know I have no friend like you if Heaven's not my home then Lord what will I do? the angels beckon me from Heaven's open door and I can't feel at home in this world anymore They're all expecting me and that's one thing I know my savior pardoned me and now I onward go I know He'll take me through though I am weak and poor and I can't feel at home in this world anymoreO Lord you know I have no friend like you if Heaven's not my home then Lord what will I do? the angels beckon me from Heaven's open door and I can't feel at home in this world anymore Just up in Glory Land we'll live eternally the Saints on every hand are shouting victory their song of sweetest praise drifts back from Heaven's shore and I can't feel at home in this world anymoreO Lord you know I have no friend like you if Heaven's not my home then Lord what will I do? the angels beckon me from Heaven's open door and I can't feel at home in this world anymore

Never Forget

I started writing out of anger in July and well, I was angry at someone else who wrote out of anger (as well as a little inherited insanity) I didn't want negativity to drive me....so I figured that it would be better to step back and take a few breaths before continuing.  I'm back now.  Excited to share what's in my mind...what's in my heart.

It feels like my mind is stuck.  It's stuck on those last weeks, days, hours, breaths.  I have so many happy memories of Mom and yet I've been stuck on thinking about the end.  I think perhaps that since those moments were so precious, that I'm afraid that I'll forget them and so I continue to run them through my mind over and over and over.  I promised to take you on a journey.  I don't want to ever forget this path and I want my mind to be free to remember the better days and so I'm ready to take you on that journey.

Weekend #1 May 4th, 5th, and 6th.

hos·pice  (hsps)

n.

1. A shelter or lodging for travelers, pilgrims, foundlings, or the destitute, especially one maintained by a monastic order.

2. A program that provides palliative care and attends to the emotional and spiritual needs of terminally ill patients at an inpatient facility or at the patient's home.

---

[French, from Old French, from Latin hospitium, hospitality, from hospes, hospit-, host; see ghos-ti- in Indo-European roots.]

(from www.thefreedictionary.com)

Chemo wasn't working anymore and Mom had been feeling pretty yucky for a few weeks.  This was the first weekend that I headed up north to visit Mom after she chose to stop her chemo care and hospice was brought into the home.  Nobody knew how long this would last, this...hospice.  We didn't know how it all worked and nobody could tell us because as it turns out, there are no textbooks that the weak body has to follow as it nears it's departure from this physical Earth.  This is similar to what I tell my patients in my line of work that every pregnancy is different and that the fetus doesn't have a set of rules that it follows.  The human body has it's own individual way of entering and exiting...

Mom was sleepy, but just about the same as she had been.  The weekend was kind of typical, kids running around 'n' all.  Our conversations were different in topic where we talked about how we wanted to prepare for what was to come.  There's a little book given to families when their loved one enters hospice and there are lists and suggestions of things to prepare so that we don't have to do it all last minute.  But Mom was the same as the last time I saw her.....do we have to start this now???  We hadn't talked like this at all, remember, because it wasn't what Mom wished so it was kind of uncomfortable at first and I almost felt like I was a little kid doing something wrong.  I remember that the countertop was full of new meds, quite a few of them.  All of those orange bottles were kind of scary...yup, I was scared for her.  I was scared for me, for Elisabeth, for Bernadette, for Dad, for Mom.

The whole weekend I was wondering when I was going to break the silence about "it" to Mom.  It had been over a year and now and here I find myself preparing the strength and the bravery to go ahead and say so many things to her that I had been wanting to say since Bernadette called me that Spring day.

(I answered the phone and Bernadette asked me where Gwenyth was and if I could move to a room where she wasn't.  I was hoping that it was about a fun secret, a surprise even, I was very curious and told Bernadette that it was fine, just tell me.  Then what she said next is quite foggy in my mind...it wasn't much more than Mom, doctor, and medical imaging and I was screaming "No No No! Mommy!" as I fell to the floor in tears.  I was mad, I was sad, I was scared all at once over and over again.)

Friday and Saturday had passed, it was Sunday and I still hadn't spoke a word of what was going on with Mom's body to Mom herself.  I was so nervous at how she was going to respond.  Would she be mad at me?  Would she cry?  I had to do it, though...what if this is my only chance?  I packed up the car, the kids were fed and we were ready to hit the road.  It was the first time, but wasn't going to be the last time that I was scared to leave and I dragged out my farewell for quite some time, stalling our departure.  I waited until I was giving hugs and kisses 'bye for the weekend and for the first time since her diagnosis, I cried in front of Mom.  "Oh sweetie," Mom said, I can still hear her voice in my head.  Well, silly me for being so scared and unsure...she responded just as Mom always responded when I cried over anything and that's with a warm hug, love, and support.  I sat with her in her bed and she hugged me as I cried on her shoulder. She said that she was a little scared too, but that everything would be okay.  She gave me a good Mom-lesson talk.  These are the talks that she gave to me as I was growing up and as an adult.  Sometimes I welcomed them and sometimes I didn't want to hear it...this one I was very grateful for.  She told me that I have a beautiful family and to live healthy, to teach good habits to the kids.  Sheesh, I thought, this is a tough way to teach me and my family this lesson.  I wished it wasn't so.

Tears fell for a bit and finally, I had the nerve to speak up myself and I told my Mom the most important message that I had for her; I told her that it doesn't matter to me what made her sick, I love her always, with all of my heart, no matter what, I love her always.  I had quite a bit more to my message than just those words; that I was sorry about her diagnosis, that I didn't want her to feel guilty or embarrassed, that I respect her and that I wish that I could take care of her as she's taken care of me.......it didn't go as smoothly as I had envisioned in my head all weekend, but I got the most important part out.  It was the best feeling in the world to let my Mom know how much I loved her and that although it had been an emotional rollercoaster, through it all and when it comes down to it, I did not judge her, I only loved her.

If it sounds like I'm bragging about how I handled that Sunday afternoon, I am.  To let go of judgement and to just love feels absolutely amazing...I feel free, like a soaring bird.  I'm also bragging that my Mom was awesome in that moment.  She was scared, she was sad, and she still upheld her title as Mom.

So we took off that day.  I did it and I loved her more.  

The need to write...

June 2012 was quite the month.  I had the most unbelievable wedding and it was so beautiful and I'm so in love with my husband.  Everything went perfectly.  I'm so excited to move forward in my marriage and for our family to continue to grow (that's not a hint that we're expecting, we're not).  I'm just excited for our today and for our future.

Every single day, though, I remember and think of my Mom.  June 7, 2012 which was my Grandmother's birthday, Mom passed.  She danced away wearing red in my dream just moments before.  I miss my Mommy so much.  It's been since her funeral that I've cried a good cry...until right now.  I look at her picture every day....I call the house so that I can hear her voice on the voicemail.  And she was truly the best.  I hadn't blogged about Mom's illness because I was respecting her wishes and the way that she chose to fight her battle.  Mom was diagnosed with small cell lung cancer in March or April of 2011.  The cancer had metastasized to other organs and Mom chose to treat the cancer with chemotherapy, which was her only option.  She also chose to battle the illness with a positive attitude, some would call it denial, but it was something else so much more, it was a something that I don't know if I can describe, but Mom taught it to me from that Spring until the very last day this June.  You see, I thought that we should have talked more openly about the cancer, but we hardly, if ever, spoke a word of it.  Mom taught me that life is more enjoyable when you can go to the grocery store in your hometown and live life as usual, that life is more enjoyable when you celebrate holidays in the moment and as usual, that life is more enjoyable when we go fishing, out to eat, to a concert, and live life w/out negativity.  That's how she did it and she had doctor appointments on certain days of the week, sure......but her time outside of the doctor was happiness and life that she continued to live.  ...and live she did!!  She fought the battle and survived for over a year to see Rory be born and to see Arthur be born and to help me dress shop for my wedding and to travel to Germany and to make many more pies and many more spaghetti dinners and I love her even more for that.  My Mom was the best woman in my life.

I've experienced losing someone before, Grandparents, friends, special pets...but nobody so close.  It pretty much ...sucks.  In the most crappiest moment in life, my Mom pulled through for me.  No matter where she was in her journey to heaven, she pulled through for me.  As a person's health deteriorates, they change.  My Mom went through those changes.  I visited every weekend and I had 3-day weekends so it was nice.  Each visit was different.  My visits and moments with my Mom are all a blessing in each their own.  I am going to share my journey in my upcoming blogs.  For me, for you, and mostly for my Mom.  I love and miss my Mom with all of my heart.  I wish that my next visit home, I'd see her like always..........I wish...............

My heart is broken and yet so full.  This is how it feels.