And now, the waiting…

Our mother has had several heart attacks and strokes. As with her father, she’s battled for the last several years, knowing, as I have found myself: you cannot out run your family history.

In the middle of the morning, something like three am, Janice called to let me know that Momma has endured yet another stroke, this one, we’re told, she won’t come back from. Her frontal lobe is gone, so even if she remains, the wonderful woman who went through so much to see us all through life, has spoken her last words, given her last loving touches and heart-calming smiles.

There are tough decisions to make now, for all of us. Lisa, who we handed over the power of attorney, did not like the idea of DNR (Do Not Resuscitate), but when we spoke this morning, she sounded confident, and understood how keeping a body alive offers little in the way of life for our mother.

Janice sees this daily; it’s her job and she’s damn good at it. Thanks goodness we have both of our capable sisters there with her when she needs them the most.

Johnny is in the midst of finishing his diving certification; he invested a lot of time and a great deal of money to make this dramatic change in his life. He sounded flat when we spoke; he was changing the brakes on Steph’s car so she and the boys can head back up to Gastonia. Johnny will stay until the final word comes and we are left with making the rest of the tough choices.

And, now I wait as well. Houston feels like a million miles from nowhere at a time like this. I want to drop it all and rush my ass out there; but I know, other than what words I might be able to say in parting, there is little else that I could do. Like Johnny, I’m pretty much stuck until it’s over. Distance, time, work and sadly, money, have to call the shots for those of us left mourning, and living. It’s heartbreaking, to say the least.

Janice told me yesterday about what she’s had to deal with over the last few years. As Momma’s Alzheimer’s progressed, she would go into what was explained to me as ‘An Alzheimer’s Loop’, a mental state in which the patient has become mentally trapped within a memory of their life. It replays, over and over. So, she began to work with her, once she got over the painful moments of having your own mother look at you as if you were a stranger.

But Janice, soldier that she is, kept her chin up and plowed in, asking Momma questions about the time period her mind was stuck within. She learned to ask certain questions that held facts of our mother’s life, facts we’re all familiar with.

“Hey, Momma?” She would ask. “Who did you head-butt in the third grade?”

Momma always smiles for this one, no matter how far away her mind was at the moment. “Oh, that was just John Rush Herndon…” She would answer, drifting mentally back to the age of nine. “He’s cute.”

The idea that our parents knew each other, literally grew up together is so uncommon today that it just seems old fashioned; but that was the time they emerged from.

Slowly, Janice would talk about other times, gradually coming forward through the years until she had our mother talking about her kids… “Scott’s out in Texas, and Lisa married Robbie, they got a pool now. Johnny’s gone to Florida, gonna be a diver. And Janice…”

As soon as she would say her name, Momma’s eyes would go wide as she looked at her own daughter, standing there in scrubs and holding her hands. “That’s you!”

“That’s right…” Janice would tell her and smile. Then, for a while at least, our mother would pop back up like a cork in a barrel and carry on a conversation. I have to admire my sisters for their persistence; had Momma not known me, the few times I’ve been able to see her over the last ten years, I’m quite sure it would have wrecked me for good.

Now, I can see just how long a day is, when you wait for the inevitable. I’ve done it before and it is never pleasant. I have the love of my family, my children, my grandchild and especially my wife, whose birthday, bless your heart, (happy 40th, honey!) coincides with all this sadness.

For the moment, if you all would help me out here, I’d love to hear back from as many of you as possible, any of you that had her as a teacher over the years; we’d love to hear about moments you shared with her as well. We are a story-telling family, and more than anything, we enjoy the telling and hearing about our own.