Monday, January 12, 2009

Epilogue (Life in Red shoes, this is for you :))

Mom died December 19, quietly. My baby sister was sitting by her, holding her hand and telling the CNA funny stories about Mom when another visitor said, "I think she's gone." Annie fell apart because Mom had died and she didn't notice. I wasn't there---it was around 8:30 or 9 am and I was getting ready to head back over to Parowan when the call came.

At the time, it seemed to go on forever, her dying. I kept questioning myself, wondering if I'd done the right thing. And I still do, a month later. Maybe she'd still be alive, feeble, but happy. Maybe the pnuenomia would be gone and her back would be healing. Guess I'll never know. Intellectually, I believe had we not called in hospice, her death would have been a slow agony for everyone.

I haven't felt her spirit at all. Chris, the sister just younger than I, feels much the same as I do---a little peeved about that. She was never there for us in life, we thought she'd be some comfort after her death. No such luck.

We didn't have a funeral for her because the weather was awful and my aged aunt and uncles couldn't come; many grandchildren couldn't come just before the holiday. So we quietly buried her and plan to have a memorial service in May when we place the headstone.

We picked out a beautiful casket with pink inside---cushions and silk and a crocheted "Mother." I bought her all new clothes---from the lacy white bra up (I ran into a friend at Wal-Mart while shopping and she said "You're not going to put underwear on your dead mother, are you, Arlene?" and I said, "Of course!")and put pretty earrings and pearls on her, as well. She was the prettiest dead person I've ever seen, to tell the truth. All the wrinkles and strain on her face were totally gone and she looked lovely. Annie did her hair beautifully and we placed a new lacy hanky in her hand, with a pink rose.

We buried her next to Dessie, and James.

Since then, I've been exhausted. Well, what else is new with me? But with Christmas, the last weeks of training for my new job, and Mom's death, I'm running on fumes. All I want to do is sleep.

It's been a hard year altogether, the marital problems, the separation, two moves, two jobs and the deaths. I'm asking the Lord for a quiet one in 2009. We all need it.

5 comments:

lifeinredshoes said...

Oh, life, death and taxes. I'm sorry for your loss, or perhaps happy for your gain? Your Mothers death reminds me a bit of my dads. He had not been there for us either, and when he died it was more of a relief than anything, he could'nt hurt us anymore. We were all adults, but we were afraid of him and for him just the same. I think sometimes we morn what we never had, more than what we've lost. You have had one Rollercoaster of a year, I wish you Peace and Happiness in the New Year. Keep writing, Red Shoes

Bookslinger said...

"... sometimes we morn what we never had, more than what we've lost. "

Very true.

Bookslinger said...

More posts, please.

Carlos said...

Condolences

jay adams said...

nice perspective... great post...