loss

Lessons from Lois

My friend Lois died yesterday afternoon of old age. She was 97 and a joyful person all the many years that I knew her. For the last dozen years or so, Lois was blind from macular degeneration. For the last 2.5 years, she was in memory care. Prior to that, she lived in her home lovingly cared for by her children, grandchildren and home Healthcare staff. I rarely heard Lois complain if ever.. She might say something self criticizing for her weight which was a struggle for her. Or,, I might hear her say “I could complain but what good would that do me”. During COVID-19 lockdown, I couldn’t see her but I could call her on the phone and chat. It was difficult to tell if she knew who I was or if the many questions she asked were her way to cover her confusion. I loved those talks. Lois was always an encourager, helping me to see the positives in the day. When I would say goodbye and wish her a good day, she would say it was a wonderful day already because I had called.

I met Lois when I met her two daughters Barb and Beth and the rest of the Higgins family as a teenager. Barb, Beth, and I have been lifelong friends. Lois was always cheerful, interested, listened with compassion and generally helped me to feel good about myself. She believed that you offer your advice only when it was really needed. I needed that advice on more than one occasion. My husband and I made it a practice to visit Lois and her husband Dick whenever we were in Des Moines, usually 3-4 times a year. When our children were young, they came with us and visiting the Higgins house is a good memory for them. We were always welcome. When I was in my 30s, I had a tendency to complain about my mother and my mother in law for one thing or another. Lois let me know that wasn’t ok. She said that she didn’t go for the “blame your parents” theme of the time and encouraged me to see that my parents were doing the best they could and I needed to be thankful. Lois rarely corrected me so I was taken aback. I hadn’t realized that my comments sounded so negative. I learned to appreciate my mother and my mother in law in a new way and developed a close relationship with each of them that I cherish. I thank Lois for that revelation and for guiding me to treasure the women that I loved so much.

My memories of Lois include how warm and welcoming her house always was. I always felt like I belonged. She remembered my birthdays and always asked about my parents, my husband, and my children. Lois and her husband Dick, who died in 2013 were a model of a good marriage to us. When my husband Michael and I coached engaged couples for 20 years, we used little stories of how we saw Dick and Lois live out a good marriage. I knew they had arguments like everyone else but they didn’t have those arguments in public. We learned to be supportive of each other and save tough conversations for private time

I lost both my mother in law and my mother in 2012. Lois was a comfort to me. In her later years, she forgot that they were gone and she would ask me about them. For a brief moment, they would be there before I reminded Lois that they had died. My dad died in 2019 the same day that Lois lost her son Doug. Their funerals were on the same day in different states. I couldn’t imagine her pain and hoped that her dementia would ease her pain as she lived mentally in earlier times.

While life has given Lois many challenges, she always focused on the blessings and a positive way to respond. She also always left others with a positive thought. She has been an important role model in my life and I will miss her. From Lois to all of us, listen with love, encourage others, do what you can, don’t take yourself too seriously, be willing to lovingly say what needs to be said, argue if you must and do it in private, look at the positives and live this day joyfully.

Love and prayers,

Mymom

Advertisement

Cooped up because of COVID-19

This has been a tough time for me and I know it is tough for everyone.  I’m grateful for so many things, home, family, food, warmth, working from home, the birds singing.  I’m sad about all the separation.  I miss my daughter, son in law and their children although we do talk to them often.  They live in Minneapolis and that is probably the worst area to live in.  Still in Minnesota, it isn’t so bad.  Our numbers remain very low. I miss church although I am watching it. I miss eating out and I don’t even eat out that often.  I bought show tickets this spring for the first time in a long time and won’t be seeing those shows.    I am sad for my younger daughter who lives in North Dakota, she is trying to look forward to her wedding at the end of May and dreading any news of further extensions of the stay at home orders.  Her venue is hopeful still and has many plans for keeping people safe including a backup date if we need to change it.  Still this should be such a happy time and it is instead filled with stress for her and for us.

 

I thought I was so grounded in my faith that this situation shouldn’t impact me so much.  I should be peaceful, faithful, obedient.  Truly though I have so many moments of anger and frustration.  I am worried about the situation around the world and so I gave money to Catholic Relief Services.  I am worried about my church.  Financially, how can it be solvent?  Donations down $60,000.  How can our church make the mortgage and pay the staff?  So, I gave more money to my church.  What is happening out there while we are all so preoccupied with ourselves?  I feel like I should listen to the news but it is so depressing that I can’t listen to the news.  All I can do is stay in place, work, and enjoy the people in my small circle; my husband, my sons, my daughter in law, and my two grandsons.  Six people.  My life line.  I make phone calls.  I use Zoom to connect with my community.  I watch sitcoms looking for light-hearted relief.   I pray, I work, and I wait.  Please God, help us find a cure, a vaccine, a test to show those of us who have already had this disease, help us to move forward and see each other again.

 

So to the government, from the bottom of my heart, I know that you mean well.  You have incomplete data though.  You have 300 million healthy people locked up just in case.  I agree with sheltering those who may be vulnerable but not in isolating them from their families and friends.  Trust us to wash our hands and take care not to spread germs.  We are a smart group of people.  We can take care of each other and will take care of each other.  No more extensions.  The curve has been flattened.  The hospitals have been built.  The equipment is coming in.  We are as ready as we are going to be.  Peace.

Love,

Mymom

Now that my dad is gone

I recently posted about losing my dad.  He was 90 years old and had lived a life filled with challenges and lots of blessings too.  He was raised during the depression.  He was a teenager during world war 2.  He experienced the promise of the 1950s, he voted for Kennedy, and he voted for Nixon, and he voted for Regan, and he voted in every election of his adult life.  He saw man first walk on the moon.  He watched his children grow up.  He watched his grand children grow up.  He even watched some of his great grandchildren grow into their teen years.  His oldest great grandchild was 17 and his youngest great grandchild was one month old at the time of his death.  My dad knew hunger, cold, joy, accomplishment, love, pain, work, and faith.  My point now is that he lived a long life.  I should be happy for him that he not suffer any more and of course I am.  I still miss him.

About a week before he died, I was able to have a priest from St Anne’s church visit him.  Father Tom stopped by on a Friday morning annointing with the sacrament of the sick (which includes forgiveness for any sins committed) and bringing him communion.  That day, dad was ready to see Father Tom, unlike the June visit at the hospital when he definitely wasn’t ready.  When I called dad that day, he was happy and told me to be sure to call Father Tom and thank him.  I did send a personal thank you note a few weeks later to let Father Tom know his visit and prayer had helped my dad to have a peaceful last week.

I feel gratitude for many things.  I’m grateful for both of my parents.  I’m grateful for the legacy of church and family.   I’m grateful for the lovely funeral that we were able to have for him.  I’m grateful for the people from St Frances who helped, the funeral home, my brothers and all my family.  I’m grateful or the birthday party that we had for him in October.  I’m grateful that we could bring our sons to see my dad on New Year’s Day that week and share the afternoon with him.  I’m grateful for each family member.  I’m grateful that I could visit my dad so often, even visiting the day before he died.

My sadness comes from a place of gratitude for having been his daughter and missing that relationship.  I believe he is with Jesus now.  I believe that although he wasn’t perfect, God forgave him and welcomed him into Heaven where he met my mom and so many relatives and friends that his joy would be overwhelming.  He was my dad.  I hope that he forgives me for needing the help of a long term care facility for his care.  I hope that he is praying for each of us and interceding for our needs.  I hope he will be able to oversee our steps as my brothers and I figure out how to be real grown ups without him.   With our mom and dad with our Father in Heaven, maybe we never really need to be grownups.  We can always be God’s children.

Oh God, please alow my my father and mother  to rest in peace and may perpetual light shine upon them.  Please bless my brothers, my sisters in law, my husband, our children and our grandchildren.  Help us to remember our parents with great love forgiving any failing as you have forgiven them.  Help us to work together to continue to be a loving family through Jesus Christ our Lord, Amen.

Love,

Mymom

Losing My Dad

Six years ago, I wrote a blog about losing my mom and the impact that has had on me.  Two months ago, I lost my dad.  His care was harder because when my mom died, my dad was there taking care of her.  We were his support and we helped to care for mom but the responsibility wasn’t all on us: my brothers, our families and me.  For the last six years, dad lived with us during the winters and lived at our lake home during the spring, summer and fall.   Each year he would come to our home a little earlier and stay a little later.  This past year, I told him that I didn’t think he should move back to the lake.  He needed more help and we needed to get him to the doctor.  He said he deserved the right to try so against my better judgement, we let him try.

While he was with us, he watched football and westerns on TV.  Every noon, he watched a local show with a Polka band playing music and couples dancing.  He cried remembering my mom and how they danced with their friends on Friday and Saturday nights so many years ago.  They had a friend who led a Polka band in Wisconsin; Jerry Goetch and his Orchestra.  There were many of those examples of ways that my dad would spend time remembering my mom.  He quit eating fish declaring that he didn’t like it (my mom is the one who didn’t like fish).  He watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving day parade (he never watched the parade with mom when she was alive).  He tried  (successfully) to tease me like he would tease my mom, just to see how fast he could get me annoyed or angry and then he would laugh.

Grieving my dad’s passing has included grieving for my mom again too.  For the last twelve – fifteen years, I called them every day.  Before mom died, I talked to both of them.  After mom died, I talked to dad.   The calls rarely lasted more than 5-10 minutes but they were a connection; a safety call.  If they answered the phone, they knew that I was ok and I knew that they were ok.  Oh how I miss those phone calls.  Fortunately, I have my children to connect with and you are helping fill the void that I feel.

For the last couple of years, my dad couldn’t really give me his fatherly advice anymore.  For most of my life when I needed advice, I turned to either mom or dad or both of them.  In the recent years, his focus turned inward as he struggled with every movement.  Dressing himself, thinking through any problem that came his way, eating, operating the phone or the microwave.  In the end, he couldn’t problem solve anymore.  If he was wet, he couldn’t think what to do next to change his clothes and feel dry again.  He didn’t want to move or walk or shower, or do any of the things he needed to do to take care of himself.  On his doctor’s advice, we moved him to a care facility eight months before he died.  It was so very hard to move him there.  I wanted him to be able to stay home.  We did try having a neighbor stop by to see him.  That worked well for  a couple of weeks but then the decline was too rapid.  It took three more weeks to get him into a facility.

Dad has had many medical issues over the last 30 years:  back surgery, stroke, heart bypass surgery, rhumetoid artheritis, diabetes, two knee replacements,  congestive heart failure, and a bout with menengitis that really impacted his mobility.  He has been very tenacious through it all.  I remember when mobility issues were thretening limit his independence about 5 years ago.  He had physical therapy to help.  He went from not being able to standup from a sitting position more than once or twice to being able to do 30 stand up and sit down exercises every day.  Those exercises kept him going for 5 more years.  Now it was really time for transition.

He entered the facility  as a short term rehab patient getting assessed for level of care needed and getting physical therapy to determine if he could get stronger enough for assisted living.  His insurance covered the short term care although every 3-5 days, they would cancel coverage, I would appeal the decision and then they continued to cover.  During this time, he saw a urologist, had a mesh put into his leg to prevent blood clots from getting to his lungs, had lots of physical, occupational and speech therapy, and determined that he had bladder cancer.  He was assessed to be in need of 24 hour care.  His cognitive abilities; the ability to problem solve was impaired so that he couldn’t safely live alone.  If he lived with others, he still would require 24 hours of care.  The assessment determines if this individual can evacuate in case of fire, can this individual use a microwave to heat food, can this individual care for his/her own basic needs by themselves.  If the answer is no, then they really can’t live alone anymore.

A month after moving into the facility, my dad had a heart episode.  His heart was giving out.  Since he didn’t have a DNR (do not resuscitate order), they rushed him to the hospital.  When asked about the DNR, he said he wanted them to try once.  He underwent several tests on his heart and his neuro system and it was determined that his heart was at end of life and we changed his order to DNR.  They didn’t expect him to live through that day.  We called everyone to visit him, brought in a priest for anointing of the sick and sat by his bedside.  He looked like death and we believed the hospital staff.  However, our dad wasn’t ready yet.  The next day, he was determined to sit up, have breakfast and get back to the care facility to get strong again.  He went back to the care center in long term care as a Hospice patient.

With this new information, insurance ended their coverage and we used dad’s remaining resources to pay for his long term care.  He wasn’t happy there.  He wanted to move back in with me and your dad.  It was so hard not to just take that path.  I knew that I wasn’t up for 24 hour care and I had my work and my family to think of too.   Last winter was difficult and my dad wanted no part of having strangers come into his home or my home to take care of him.

The facility was beautiful.  He tried to join in.  He ate meals with three other guys who lived there.  He joined in Bingo and Friday afternoon happy hours.  He watched football on TV.  It isn’t a coincidence that he lived to see the season end.  They had a good level of care and yet, he still had to wait as much as 1/2 hour to use the bathroom.  He didn’t like that.  Someone accidentally bumped his foot really hard and injured the toes.  He was really angry about that especially when the injury went unreported.  Instead, they called it ingrown toenails.  It wasn’t until we took him to the podiatrist weeks later that we heard that the injury was caused by bumping or knocking the foot really hard.  It can happen even in the best facilities.  Unfortunately it went unreported.  Sometimes, people don’t report accidents because they fear losing their jobs.  Someone stole his wallet from where it was hidden in his drawer.  Once he couldn’t trust the people who cared for him, he wanted to move.  He insisted.

He spent four of the last five months on Medicaid care supplementing what he could pay for his care.  He had to move into a semi private room and although his roommate was a very nice person, with no privacy there was no longer any dignity in his care.  He said to me that the $2000 per month that he paid for his care,   should have been enough to have a private room.  It wasn’t though, the cost of the room was $9,500 per month!  On Medicaid, he had to take a semi-private room when it became available.

We applied to be transferred to Hospice House supplemented by a grant.  Dad continued to pay the $2000 per month for his care and received a grant for the balance.  He was approved almost immediately and we moved him to the hospice house for the last five weeks of his life.  Medicaid doesn’t support Hospice care by the way.  We were visiting every 1-2 weeks and I continued to call every day.  He wanted to live in Wausau near my brothers or I would have visited every day.

Family support was awesome.  I don’t remember a single cross word or disagreement as my brothers and I worked together to make decisions on our dad’s behalf.  Our spouses, children, and grandchildren were wonderful in their support.  During the summer months when my dad could still travel, we took him for day trips to the lake at least six different times.  The logistics of helping him to travel were hard but he was determined.  He loved seeing the lake and seeing his friends at Saturday afternoon mass at St Francis.

In October, we had a 90th birthday party for dad at the small tavern that is near my brother’s house.  They let us have the tavern for the afternoon.  We brought in food and they provided a bar tender so we could have a real party.  I sent out invitations to all the family and to everyone in his address book.  Over 70 people came.  He couldn’t converse much but he was happy to see everyone and was happy to be there.  He still had a good appetite too.  I was so glad to see every person especially his sister, Carol.  She is about 15 months younger than him and still doing very well.  It was a real blessing to have that afternoon together.

He was stable from June after the heart diagnosis until about two weeks before he died.  We all visited as much as we could.  The hospice house was beautiful and peaceful.  The staff ministered to all of us as we shared in dad’s last days.  On the day before he died, I decided to drive over to Wausau before going on a retreat that I had planned with your dad and our friends.  I just knew I wouldn’t be able to relax otherwise.  On that Friday when I arrived, Steve and Connie were there.  After they left, my dad slept.  He woke for brief moments like when Jennifer wanted to talk with him.  I held the phone up to his ear to listen.  He heard her talk to him and he struggled to get one word out: Bye.  That afternoon, I took time to pray at his side, say a rosary and a divine mercy chaplet for him.  When I left, I said goodbye.  I told him I would be back on Sunday but he didn’t need to stay if he was ready for the place that Jesus had prepared for him.

I drove to my retreat late that afternoon listening to podcasts for work.  I felt peaceful.  Of course you know the rest of the story.  He died that night at 3:45 am in his sleep.  He died peacefully.  They called me right away and I called my three brothers.  He was gone now in his 91st year.  There are no words for that moment.

Missing MyMom

My mother told me many times that she missed her parents every day.   I was a teenager at the time and I thought that was so odd.  I mean, of course I loved my grandmother.  I knew her.  I was 14 years old when she died.  She seemed terribly old to me and I thought my mom should be more use to not having her parents.   My grandfather had died when I was just five years old and I only have one brief memory of him and it isn’t a positive memory.  Hmmm, I wondered where this longing came from.  Logically, they had been gone a long time and yet my mother missed them very much.  She remembered how her mother had taught each of her daughters to guard themselves and to dress modestly and to work hard.   There was a mistrust that was passed along from Grandmother to mother to daughter regarding dangers in the world.  I carried that fear for many years and conquered it after taking an Impact training class (high contact self defense where you learn to kick heads and get away).  I learned hard work and that everyone loves the person who takes care of the dishes after dinner.  I always help to clean up.

My grandfather taught my mother about gardening.  I understand that he always had beautiful gardens.  He also had a big temper and when I slammed the door to his kitchen one too many times, I received a slap on the head that left my ears ringing.  I remember running to his garden and walking there for solace. My grandmother came out to console me and talk about not slamming doors.  She said that I should appreciate my grandpa for the beautiful garden and that he loves me enough to teach me not to slam doors.  I never really learned not to slam doors but I do think of him every time I do.  And I remember all the lovely days I would spend near my mom as she gardened.  I know that love of gardening came from her dad.

I really miss my mom today.  I can tell you so many stories about the person she was.  You only saw her in her older days when she was tired and sick with such limited mobility.  I remember her vigor and how she taught me so many things: to cook, to sew, to knit, to try.  She taught me about God and his Holy Mother Mary and passed along her steadfast faith.  I know that I will see her again one day.

I am grateful that I still have my dad with us.  He has always worked hard and been a very action oriented man; a leader who always has a plan.  I know that these days of diminished capacity are difficult for him.  I hope that I am helping him in these years and enjoying his company as much as I should.  What a blessing my parents have always been to me.

I miss my mother in law too.  She and my mother died in 2012.  Sometimes their passing seems so raw and fresh to me.  My grief and longing overwhelm me.  Many times I think of them.  Such good, loving women that God so graciously put into my life.  Not perfect but good people.  I know they both forgave my failings, took pride in my success, and loved me with all their hearts.

We are fortunate to still have my father in law too.  He is still strong willed and able.  He golfs multiple times a week although he needs a cart now.  He should ask for help more often.  We are so glad when we spend time with him.  After he recently visited, we had the golf channel on our TV for a couple of weeks.  We would turn it on and watch a little golf, think of dad and then turn to our current Netflix series.

It may be a bit self serving of me to say this but cherish your time with your mom and dad.  Cherish the time with your grandfathers.  Truely, “Honor your father and your mother”.   I know that we will see our moms in heaven again.  I know that our time with our dads is fleeting.

Oh God, help us to be the sons and daughters that you desire us to be.  Help us to Honor our fathers and mothers.  Help us to forgive them their failings, to love them, to listen to them and to honor the place you have given them in our lives.  Through Jesus Christ Our Lord and Savior.  Amen.

Love you,

Mymom