Tag: Funeral

The Will – Bring Out The UGLY

Bring out your dead…and out come the wolves!

I found out the hard way; family doesn’t stick together once money – big or small is involved. All of the promises made by my siblings, their words given to me, meant nothing. They wanted their share. No matter that Dad is still alive and I’ve been taking care of my parent’s property, outbuildings, and any needs or wants prior to mom’s death. No, they “permitted” me to do these; while living their lives carefree, without thinking twice about who’s minding the store.

The Verbal Agreement

Over the decades, my older brother and sister repeatedly had told me that they both wanted me to have our childhood home. Afterall, they had families and homes of their own. They had each stressed all of the work, care, time and money that I had contributed to our parents’ lives. I of course, did this out of obedience both to God and my to parents. It is the fourth commandment.

Mom Died, Then My Sister

Once the initial shock of losing them both back-to-back, had begun to ease, Dad made an appointment with his senior attorney. I went with Dad. Not only did the will need to be totally redone, but all beneficiaries changed for life insurance policies, all titles such as house and cars needed to have a beneficiary named and a transfer upon death form completed. The same for all bank accounts, holdings, deposit boxes, etc. She wanted this done as soon as possible and gave him two weeks to execute this. Another thing the attorney stressed was the house. Unbeknownst to me, three years prior when mom and dad had their will done by this same attorney, an in-depth discussion ensued. And it revolved around me. For at that time, I had been giving mom one of my two-week paychecks. She needed it for her treatments. Her disease was rare called Pemphigoid, and her health care would not cover her care outside her network. And the specialist she needed was outside her care. At that point, she had received one thousand a month from me to cover her treatments, for the last three years. Mom had told me that she would apply this money to her ledger, and it would go against “buying out” my younger sister. For mom knew that she would not relent to my receiving the house without her due share. (I dismissed all of this. For I felt that mom and dad would live another decade or more. Why, because they had each other and I did most of the hard work. Also, my younger sister [by only a few years] had told me on several occasions that I should have the house. Thus, keeping it in the family.) Ironically, at this time period an old family friend was this attorney’s receptionist. This friend told me recently that the attorney, who rarely spoke her opinions to her staff, let everyone know how impressed she was. The fact that I helped my aging parents live their lives out in their own home, while doing all repairs and upkeep at my cost, plus helping mom survive. I won’t forget it, and neither did the attorney. I had never met her before this meeting, but she paused and said to dad that now we needed to talk about me.

How I Played A Major Role In The Will

During this time, my older sister was actively dying, though it was not immediately communicated to us. The attorney, who asked if any children were disabled, then learned of our oldest sister. She had a rare form of Alzheimer’s called Benson’s Syndrome. She would die two weeks later. Then the attorney went onto to say that the next order of business was to ensure that I get the family home. I did not yet know about the years earlier discussion with mom. Nor was I expecting a candid conversation about the ‘purchasing’ of the house from my siblings. I remained quiet. Listening to dad talk about how they all expected $50K each or $150K for the house, I became anxious. Yes, the house is worth an easy $450K, but I was told worst case scenario paying my younger sister $50K from my retirement savings. Again, when I retire, from my 401K earnings! We she asked me if I could do that, I then spoke up and said that my oldest sister and brother are foregoing their share, and I was expecting my other sister to follow suit. If she doesn’t, then mom said $50K for her. Dad said: ‘They may have said they wanted you to have it. Don’t count on it, people get funny when there’s a will.’

They Did Get Funny About Money

Almost instantaneously, my brother wanted his share, along with of course my younger sister. Once my older sister had died, then dad without hesitation, cut out her husband and son from the will. No possessions, nothing. Several trips back and forth to the attorney’s office. Many meetings with her team to sort out insurance payments, titles, transfer upon death forms. Dad was secretive about the doling out of their possessions. His closely regarded valuables, mom’s jewelry, heirlooms-were all pawns for him. One week this went to my brother, the next week, no. By cutting out my older sister, now everything was split three ways. Long ago it was decided by my parents to go by the taxes only, to keep the house purchase by me affordable. So the sum I needed to pay for each share? $66,667.00. You read that right…

Leverage

After receiving several nasty calls from my brother stating (without prompt or provocation) that he never said he was going to give his share to me. Just for him to do an about face here and there, I wasn’t sure who to trust. My younger sister couldn’t wait to shout: “I’m not getting screwed out of my inheritance!” That cemented it. I had to pay her. Meanwhile my deceased sister’s husband wanted to vouch for me. Her knew my sister had told him that she wanted to forgo her share for me. My cousin, second that. Word spread and my extended family learned of the drama over the will. Now, the attorney wanted a meeting to draw up a family agreement.

The Family Meeting

You could feel the chill. No one looked each other in the eyes. And as per usual, I had to pick my brother up and take him to the meeting. For years now, this had become a routine. But if he were to be a Judas to me – he can get his own ride! Dad said no. He claimed my brother was going to keep his word to me, though reluctantly. I had heatedly told dad the night before, if I was to be expected to pay out $134K, I might as well go to our nearest city. I could get two homes for that! No joke. I told him I’d move out and let my younger sister take care of him. For mom had told me at the most $50K for my sister. Thinking, for he knew the consequences, that he would wind up in a senior home, he became frightened. He told me later, that he called my brother and struck a bargain with him. If he kept his promise to me, dad would leave him his Model A, his tools, contracting equipment, guitar equipment and coin collection. But my brother demanded dad’s prized electric guitar, too. Dad would not relinquish the guitar, no that was dad’s leverage. Also, he proposed the $50K to my sister.

Back to the meeting, when the attorney asked if my brother wanted his share, he quietly said; “No.” Thank God. Now onto my sister. For clarification, there are seventeen barn cats on the property. I’ve taken care of them, too. Some are feral. All but one have been neutered or spayed. The oldest at that time was 17 years. She used them as collateral as leverage to get what she wanted. Extortion. It was ugly. She looked at the attorney and said, “I’ll take the $50,000 if she takes all but two of the cats to a no-kill shelter. What’s it going to be. The cats or the house?” I was not expecting such a low, manipulative, evil, disgusting, heartless blow from my own sister, who I doted on in her life. She’s sick, a bi-polar off her meds by her own admission. It was despicable. I stood up, I told her that she was not to touch those animals. I was ready to walk. I meant it. The attorney shouted for me to sit down. She said this is easy to rectify. You will pay her upon your father’s death $66,667.00. My sister smugly agreed to this.

Not Too Fast – Still Greedy

The attorney would get back to us in approximately 3 weeks, papers drawn each of us were to sign and it was written in stone. Oh, no. Three months went by, why? Because my brother and sister were bickering over the phone. My brother wanted to know why she was so greedy. They could each have received $33,000 from me. She took offense and called the attorney! She told the attorney that my brother needed his share! She stirred up more trouble. So, when I thought, I was going to sign the final papers, I was met with the question of buying my brother out for another $66.667.00! So $134K of my retirement. The answer was no. I stood up and said I’m done. She asked me to step out of the room while she spoke to dad. Later I was called in. Dad would add more of his savings to brother’s tally. This he felt, would level the shares. After we left, I let dad know that if they did not sign this agreement in the next two days, I was pulling out, moving out and I could care less. I meant it. Oh, they beat feet to sign it.

At What cost?

All of this to fulfill my promise to mom to keep it in the family. All this so I could leave it to my deceased sisters’ grandson. All of this nonsense so my dad could stay in his home. For I am just the curator, the steward, the target of contempt. This is a cautionary tale for you, please learn from it.

Selecting Headstones

I Was In No Hurry To See Their Names On Granite

Nor was Dad. Yes, it took 10 months to make the necessary decision to purchase their headstone markers. Bear in mind, we had to get through all of the legalities first. It not only involved making necessary calls to the likes of life insurance companies, banks, social security, doctor offices and hospitals. More time consuming was the transfer of titles; the house, the cars, the safety deposit box, plus naming new beneficiaries. Then there was the claiming of the life insurance policies, which involved a senior attorney. This cascaded into a 5 month long will revision and family agreement. The will was a drawn-out ordeal. It was horrendous and is the focus of an upcoming post.

The Time Had Come

After letting the dust of the will settle and subside, it became apparent that we must choose a headstone for mom. For any longer a wait would become disrespectful. Months ago, my brother-in-law decided that whatever we chose for mom, he would follow suit for my sister’s headstone. We had received several postcards from a local memorial company. God knows how they received our information. I had learned during the funeral process that from one funeral home to another, when pricing a traditional funeral, the final cost is consistent. One just needs to get the job done. With this mentality, I made the appointment. When the receptionist answered, she asked me a few screening questions. The first was if the marker was for the living or deceased. I had not realized that some have the foresight to plan.

Monument Appointment

Many months before Mom died, in fact she was not at risk of dying, she discussed purchasing the opening/closing of our family plots. Just two years prior, we had purchased eight plots in our church cemetery. After purchasing the opening/closing costs, she wanted to then work on a monument. She liked the idea of a bench with the family name on it. I had told her that we should do that in the Spring with my tax return. Now, choosing the headstone for her, I had let dad know of her wishes. Dad was leery that the bench would be too costly.

Monument Office Visit

At our appointment, I took note of how informal the atmosphere appeared. Our senior representative, and his colleague were both dressed very casually. No one spoke in hushed tones. Once again, as with the funeral home visit, a potential customer just walked in and inquired about a grave marker. As with that prior incident, the customer was encouraged to schedule an appointment. Once inside the office, the first order of business; choosing the stone. The stone choice determines the price. I explained that mom loved her Irish heritage, and I thought that a green stone with gold lettering would be a real tribute to her. Quickly, he shot that down. Green stones were some of the most expensive, hard to acquire and gold lettering extremely high priced. He quickly pointed to a pink stone color (their most popular price). I’ve seen that many times at our cemetery. They can keep it. I liked the next tier scheme of blue/gray/red/black mix. Dad did, too. From there he immediately went over the standard shape for a double monument. Dad had wanted a shared marker. The thickness of the marker 8 inches down to 6 inches, the width 42 inches trimmed to 36 inches and the base from 48 inches cut to 42 inches would significantly affect the pricing. Also built into the price, but provided by our cemetery, was the foundation concrete footer. This footer is poured three foot deep 18 inches wide, with the length determined by our final headstone choice. These footers are also grouped with other orders, and when enough are filled a contractor then pours the foundations. The wait is usually 4 to 6 months. Right about the same time as our stone would be finished; after our art approval and payment.

Pricing!

Being proficient on the design program, our rep quickly filled in our contact information and on a large 3-foot screen began to design some marker concepts. Initially in grays, he added Mom’s name and dates, then dads. He zoomed in and out, repositioned until he pleasantly displayed all. He explained that built into the cost, any artwork designs could be added. Since we our Catholic, I asked about a Crucifix. He had about six different renderings, but I liked the Traditional one. He effortlessly put one in the center. Knowing that mom was Irish, he also suggested a shamrock in the corner above her name. Then came the pricing $7600.00 plus tax and $1200.00 for the footer. It was then that I mentioned mom wanting a bench which would have been even higher. But lo and behold, our rep said otherwise! It actually would be much lower, with little compromise. Quickly he made a new draft, same stone, same type style, same lettering, same art but now more room to put all of the siblings first names! After he put the final touches on the new concept, he colorized it with our stone and voile! The price was $5600.00 plus tax and $1200.00

Sold

We were very pleased, especially to get what mom wanted and the price was exceptional. From there we started the concept for my sister’s stone. Though my brother-in-law was paying for hers separately, he asked that we choose it. For she is buried directly behind mom. They died 10 weeks apart. For hers, the process was much quicker, since stone, shape, thickness, type were all chosen prior. When it came to the art, I asked about a Mary image. Again, he had several, but one with her head, shoulders and praying hands with Rosary really stood out. Our rep made it work. It’s beautiful. And the cost $3900.00 plus tax and $1000.00 for the footer. My brother-in-law approved it. He scheduled his own appointment for payment. While there, he also had his name engraved on the back side. For our plots are in the shape of the Cross, so he will be buried behind my sister. All is paid for, so come Spring, footers will be poured. Shortly thereafter, their headstones will be installed, with a small blessing ceremony by our Priest.

Eternal rest grant unto them oh Lord. And let perpetually light shine upon them. May they rest in peace, amen. May their souls and all the faithful departed through the mercy of God, rest in peace. Amen.

We Buried Our Sister

Two months After Mom

You really do just go through the motions. I trudged through work and didn’t speak of it. At night I gathered as many photos as possible of her that I had. Prior to her death, I gave my brother-in-law the phone number of mom’s funeral director. This way, we could just do a repeat of her funeral. My sister would have liked that. In fact, just two months prior, she was with Dad and I at the funeral home while we made mom’s arrangements. The funeral director was aware of her condition. I explained to my BIL that this would make things easier. I met my BIL at the funeral home’s main location. The previous director greeted me with raised arms; “What happened?” Mom happened, and my sister rapidly declined. My BIL and I chose exactly the same casket and vault with the opposite complementary prayer card. I gave the director my copy of my sisters’ plot. Mom had the foresight two years ago to have us buy plots at our church cemetery. My BIL was going to have his niece help pick out my sisters’ burial clothes. It was hard for him to get through this, but what could I say? It was done. We just had to honor her. Once again, I had to write her obituary, and I needed to draft her eulogy. He agreed to ask the same women to read in our stead at the Mass funeral. The director excused himself while he called our priest to procure a Mass date and confirm that we could have the showing, Mass and burial and wake all in one day. He came back with two dates, the coming Friday or Saturday. I insisted on the Saturday, the 28TH. It would allow more to show, it was two days after her only son’s birthday, and it happened to be my birthday. It was perfect.

Funeral

Since Mom’s funeral was still fresh, we were accustomed to the procedures. I had made two photo boards (only one for the church parlor, the other for the Knights of Colombus Hall) and placed one in the Church. Then, I looked towards my sister’s casket. She was in her forest green dress with a white sweater. The sweater to hide her bone thin frame. Her jaw was clamped tight, only I knew it was due to her jaw being open. Her makeup was sparse, and had I known, I would have put eyeliner and mascara on her. So, I took lipstick and added color to her gaunt cheeks and color to her pale lips. One day earlier, by coincidence, my BIL’s sister knew the beautician appointed to set my sisters hair. She had attempted to lighten it blonde (because of my sister’s Alzheimer’s dementia she could not tolerate the procedure of lightening her hair) to cover the dark gray it had become. But, because of the cold storage it did not hold. And, as before, I was able to ask for a lock of her hair. I had cut a few strands in the hospital, but since the beautician trimmed her hair, now her son and husband could have some, too. Once again, her bangs were back like she used to wear it.

Visitation

Before the 10:00 A.M. opening, people started arriving. Soon I was called to stand at the head of her casket. I greeted her former classmates, parishioners, neighbors, colleagues, family and friends. Some 150 people were inline outside of the church waiting to give their condolences. I told my sister at every interval that she had done well. For I know that the dead are made to attend their funerals. They stand at the foot of their caskets. They wait for prayers. I prayed the Eternal Rest prayer and St. Gertrudes too. After some time, I looked to see out Priest standing near the foyer. I snuck up to him and asked if it was time for the Mass. At this point many more were still outside. He graciously said that we would wait until everyone was seated. One of her Catholic schoolmates mistook me for my sister, and another commented, that they, too were taken aback. Yet, another said: “She was sweet.” The funeral director assisted by my sister’s family member, a retired funeral director, helped turn her casket away from the crowd. Once turned, the director cranked the casket bottom and lowered my sister. He looked at me said; “Okay?” I nodded and he shut and locked her casket for Mass to begin. My BIL and nephew unfolded the mantle to cover her casket for Mass, and I followed the procession until taking my place in the pew.

Burial And Wake

After the Mass, easily 60 or more processed to the cemetery. Again, the brief ceremony of committing her body was performed at a holding place. For she was buried about 75 feet away right behind mom. Then as before we walked to the nearby hall for the luncheon. Easily 85 people attended as her grandchild ran around the hall playing with the toys I had brought. People mulled over her photo boards and conversed with each other, all talking about the turn out. Some had wandered over to Mom’s grave, too. Afterwards, my BIL called to talk about the amazing large turnout and that it probably helped that it was Saturday. He brought up the fact that it had spread around the church that it was my birthday, he didn’t realize. Yes, it was and it was perfect.

My Sister Has Died

Benson’s Syndrome – Has Taken Her at Only 62 Years Old

Our oldest Sister has died, only two months after mom died. I was hoping that she would not decline, that if we did not speak of mom’s death, in essence it could be blocked by her dementia.

Her symptoms were spread out over a decade. She had aches and pains, then severe back pain, followed by poor eyesight. She was diagnosed with sciatica, the fibromyalgia, later cataracts. She was a grade schoolteacher, held a master’s degree. Seemingly one day, she started forgetting things. Her principal advised her to seek disability. About a year later she was approved and was put on disability. Then suddenly, she couldn’t operate her phone, nor navigate her TV remote. Mom and I insisted we take her to her doctor; we had a whole list of things to discuss. The hurdle was HEPA. After much cajoling, my brother-in-law allowed us access. Once there, my sister, barely walking at a snail’s pace could not even remember her birthdate. Her doctor revealed that a year prior, during an ER visit when she fell out of bed and ‘didn’t feel right,’ her scans revealed dementia. Mom and I were silent, not wanting to alarm my sister. She sat silently at that time she had a tick of smacking her lips. Finally, when asked she said that no one had ever told her that.

Fear Of Nursing Homes

Immediately, she became petrified of being put into a nursing home. I promised her that this would not happen, over my dead body and I meant it. After breaking the news to her husband, who claimed he was never told either, so mom and I got to work. We knew caregivers had to be put into place. She kept saying she did not want to be home alone, that if she knew she was going to lose her mind she did not want to live. Yes, it was awful.

Fidgeting Uncomfortable Repeating

Once home we researched the dementia diagnosis and prepared ourselves for the following weeks appointment. Mom agreed to watch her for the next weeks with dad until caregivers could be found. I was prepared to pay out of pocket, and I did so, until her needs became too great. Eventually all of her disability went to paying various caregivers. Early on, I took her to a counsellor. Afterall, what could I tell her about dying? During our research it became apparent that her lifespan was cut down by a third. We kept this to ourselves, knowing that upsetting news brought on hallucinations. She began seeing ants everywhere. My BIL went through the motions of insecticides to appease her. Her clothes itched or felt off. She couldn’t dress herself, nor bathe, nor brush her teeth. Make-up irritated her. She couldn’t find the toilet seat. Her stare was far off, never making eye contact but in the general direction.

Eating – Food For thought

Almost immediately I told her that she must eat. I told her “Food for thought” which she repeated. Mom was cooking breakfast and lunch for her, and we had hopes for 5 more years. By the time caregivers were onboard, she wanted to go out to lunch and shop, etc. It was costly for the first 4 months or so, but I was happy to keep her occupied. During that period, I cleaned her home a few times due to her inability. She grew accustomed to various caregivers, just wanting company. She always wanted visitors, anything to keep her mind preoccupied. The TV was on constantly; it was her crutch. She needed her little dog beside her for comfort. But eating became worrisome for us. She mostly refused her caregivers; she would only eat for mom and dad.

Benson’s Syndrome

A year later, for it took that long to get a neurologist appointment, she was finally diagnosed with Benson’s Syndrome. This rare disease affects the back of the brain, mainly sight, so that you cannot determine precisely what you are seeing. Also, it is early onset affecting those in their 50’s. She was 60 then. Looking back the symptoms started decades prior, so all of her ailments if strung together would have pointed to this. Once I looked into this and did some calculating, I knew we did not have long with her.

Mom

Mom’s unexpected stroke left me and my BIL with a decision to shield her of mom’s condition. Mom could not speak, and she talked to my sister several times daily on the phone. He covered for her, until it became clear that mom was dire. When mom was pulled off the ventilator and struggled to breathe, my BIL situated my sister as close as he could to mom’s side. Try as I might, I’ve retained the image of my sister trying to reach in the direction of mom, saying; “Mommy don’t leave me!”

Doomed

Afraid after the burial, that she would rapidly worsen and preoccupied with Dad, I tried to sparingly speak to her. Unbeknownst, due to her lack of eating and drinking, she had another UTI which had to be treated. It worsened and she was hospitalized for dehydration. When I visited her, she was starving, I fed her and I stayed there until she fell asleep. She came home for a few days, but had to go back in, this time for another infection and more dehydration. She never came home.

I Didn’t Realize She Was Dying

Still dealing with mom, helping dad and sorting things out, for Christmas was coming, I thought she would stabilize and come home. Afterall she just ate 1200 calories for me. The next day when I visited her in a different hospital room and she was unresponsive, a nurse told me that she was actively dying. She had hours maybe a day to live. I had no idea.

Missed Signs

On a prior visit, on a different ward, she was twitching jerking. I was told that was from lack of food. Starvation. They fed her with an IV to stabilize her. She pulled out her catheter twice. She had to be video monitored. On one occasion, when we were alone, she was sleeping. She roused and I became worried when see looked at the foot of her bed and said sweetly: “What’s your name? Oh, you’re not allowed to say.” I said, “Oh, no.” She replied: “what?” I said, “I didn’t want you to decline so soon.” I also told her of all the accomplishments she achieved. Her smiling reply: “No I didn’t!” Now, on the hospice ward, during which I fed her ice cream and candy, she paused and said: “Comfort Me!” She was distressed. I did my best and told her not to be afraid. She went back to jabbering nonsense, then once again panicked asked: “Comfort me!” I tried, but it did not cross my mind she was dying. Once the nurse told me, I cried. The nurse said she had been seeing children. My oldest sister who was so good at handling all of our family functions, orchestrating countless functions was dying of starvation. She was vivacious, social and compassionate. And it came down to me to tell everyone that she had hours or days to live. This was on a Sunday. Our priest who had already spent time with her on the other floor, came immediately. Later he told me he gave her the apostolic pardon. Her friends from out-of-state came. Her former husband, friends and extended family, too.

Lights Flickering

In her room a recessed light to her left started flickering. It wasn’t like that prior. It did this for an entire day, then righted itself. As with mom, I prayed as many rosaries as I could, and in Latin. I knew by this point that I could not move the mountain of God and concentrated on sparing her soul from penance. I whispered into her ear that she was a success. I told her that if she found herself in darkness, to look for the light. Call out to Jesus or Mary or Joseph. I repeated this for several days when alone with her. Again, as with mom, I noticed that several men could not stomach to see her. So, her visits with the men in her life were brief, usually 15 minutes at best. She never again was coherent. She was on medication and any agitation, grimace or leg movement warranted increasing her pain meds.

Six Days Later

My sister died six days later on her grandsons second birthday, at 1:20 A.M. My BIL called me at 1:30 A.M. He was at home when the nurse called him. He wasn’t going down to the hospital. I called my other sister and being upset; she wasn’t coming either. I woke up Dad, and he tried to dissuade me, too. I called the nurses station and asked if I could come. She met me at an entrance and granted me access. There my sister was in her dimly lit room at 1:55 A.M. Death is not pretty. Her mouth was open to her chest. She was sallow from starvation, and she was gone. Never again will I speak to her, nor will she enjoy her retirement, nor dote on her only grandson. I knelt by her bedside and sobbed. The nurse came in and said: “Oh, honey.” I stayed a half hour and prayed and paced and took pictures of her, for me. Michele, all of my days I will miss what could have been. May the Lord God in Heaven please take pity on the soul of my sister.

Mom Has Died

Blindsided By Death…

I’m saddened to say that we buried Mom less than a month ago. Even though she had several ailments, we weren’t suspecting a possible stroke. All of us knew it would be an uphill battle, but we had hoped with therapy, she could swallow and hopefully, speak by Thanksgiving. Complication after complication mounted. Her weakened body, struggled to stay alive for us. She tried to breathe without the ventilator for exactly 24 hours.

Hard To Watch…

All of our prayers, joined together with parishioners, neighbors and friends could not bring about a miracle. So, our prayers changed for a miracle of another kind, that she dies soon as to relieve her suffering. Mom had a living will, so no extreme measures were to be taken. Due to the stroke, early on she tried to speak and sometimes you could decipher a word. But, as the days went on, she became weaker. Her not being able to tell each one of us something private, personal, left us without closure. Seeing your mother cry out of frustration and fear, took resolve not to react.

Dying Is Not Peaceful – She Suffered

Mom had shallow, labored breathing exactly two hours after being removed from the ventilator. The moment she started coughing and gasping for air the team had warned us, she would be switching from medical care to comfort care. Once that moment came, I feverishly prayed aloud for her soul. Afterall, what was left? We were losing Mom. They gave her more oxygen, until the pain medicine, which was given every 15 minutes started to relax her. Most of us stayed with her for another 8 hours, not expecting her to survive long, according to the medical team.

Clinging To Life

At 3:00 A.M. I called the hospital. There was still no change in Mom. Of course, it was hard to sleep, but I needed to stay home with Dad. Three hours later, more family was at the hospital, by her side. Still, her rhythmic, gasping breathing happened. Mom eyes closed, mouth open, lie motionless as the medication eased her struggle. When I arrived at 8:30 A.M., to relieve some family and pray more for her soul, I noticed here and there her breathing would take a split second longer.

Hospice Paperwork

Since Mom was in ICU, and not expected to live much longer, the hospital needed to move her to their Hospice wing. Dad signed the paperwork in the ICU waiting room. Later, the Hospice Doctor came by to see Mom and speak a little about what would happen. He examined her hands and feet. Took her pulse. He told me by his guess a few hours. I had heard that the dying waits for their family to leave until they pass. I asked him about this, and he explained that in his experience it’s either that OR they are waiting on a loved one to come. Yes, one wasn’t present, but had spoken on the phone. He paused and said, “Are you religious?” I said we are crazy Catholics and have been praying for her soul. He said; “Great. She should be fine.” I didn’t ask him to elaborate. I needed to start praying at her bedside.

Waxy Color

About this time, alone with Mom I noticed how yellow she was. The term “waxy” I had heard many times describing the dead and dying. But now I understood that to mean like the look of wax beans. The pale yellow, semi-translucent skin. Mom had purple and red small bruise-like spots over her arms and on her fingertips. Her feet were cold and then sometimes hot. Her left arm and leg had swollen, due to the stroke and lack of movement.

Her Death

After praying for her soul, really begging that her suffering be reparation for her purgatory, I spoke to her. I have known for some time that the dying can hear you. So, I had told her anything noteworthy about what was happening to her as well as any family concerns. This time, regardless of any past issues, troubles, I let Mom know something she has probably never heard. It dawned on me that neither her parents (which were never involved with her) nor her sisters or family had ever told her what she needed to hear. So, I told her. I told my mother that she was a success. That she was successful, more so than anyone in her immediate family. I told her that it was okay to go. And to look for the light.

I Took A Break

I let one of my family members know that I was going to step out, but that I should be back in about one hour. I no sooner drove about 2 miles from the hospital when I received the call. Mom stopped breathing; a nurse called for a doctor. When I returned to the hospital, Mom had been pronounced about 10 minutes prior. The nurse and family confirmed that as soon as they had mentioned aloud in front of Mom that I had left, her breathing became few and far between.

We Stayed With Her Body

Dad and I stayed with Mom for 2 and a half hours after her death. Mostly silent. I touched her hands and her face, her feet and her arms. I stroked her hair – all things we were never permitted to do while she lived. When I started to cry, I realized that I cried for myself out of pity and fear. I still repeat that over and over. I had taken a moment to call the funeral home of choice, there with Mom. I didn’t realize that she would go to the hospital morgue. Once received there, later most likely late into the night the funeral workers would transport her to the funeral home. Thus began the process of preparing for the funeral…