myjourneysinsight

YOU WERE THERE-PART 1

Posted on January 25, 2011 by Judy

My video tribute to my mom:

–

Click the blue link to hear audio:

YOU WERE THERE

All my life, every day

you were there, when I’d need you

all the time, I just knew you’d be there

and you’d see me through

I’ve always known, I’m not alone . . .

You were so strong

You’d pick me up when I’d fall down

so I can see all the strength you gave me

CHORUS:

Although I try, it’s hard to say goodbye

to someone who’s loved me all of my life

And when I’m sad, because you’re not there

I’ll still see your love everywhere

Everything that I did you’d applaud

You were right there watching me

as I grew, sharing joy and my heartache, too

I always knew, that I had you . . .

Now I’m so strong

I picked you up when you fell down

I’ve learned to see just how strong I could be

CHORUS:

Although I try, it’s hard to say goodbye

to someone who’s loved me all of my life

And when I’m sad, because you’re not there

I’ll still see your love everywhere

When you are gone

I’ll say a prayer

And I’ll remember

how you were there

My mother was with me when all four of my children were born.

I use the words “releasing a song” to describe the process of composing the words and melodies that are within my soul. This past year I have realized that with each and every song I’ve “released,” my soul has ached intensely.

The “birth of song” is actually very painful for me – it is an indescribable feeling.

Whenever I hear the chords to my new song, I cry each and every time. My most recent song has left me feeling quite emotional.

My life is very poignant right now. I am so glad that I am able to express myself through my music and words. I wish I were a better singer – but I am finding out that a lot of people appreciate my heartfelt, song renditions. I never dreamed that would happen when I picked up my guitar approximately one year ago!

I recorded my song “You Were There” on Sunday. It is not quite finished, but I can share a “temporary” mix. I spent a lot of time discussing how the song’s structure should go with my arranger, George.

I knew he wouldn’t like having the long instrumental beginning I envisioned! I followed his advice, and ended up loving George’s simple introduction created from the verse chords.

It was another spiritual experience for me when George recorded his solo instrument and piano to complement my guitar instrumental portion of my song.

When he did his “solo” for the instrumental interlude – he did it perfectly the first time he played it. I asked him how he did that. He said, “Jude, I was jamming and I couldn’t do it the same way twice.” I could tell he was pleased with how it came out.

This morning, I thought about what I would write for a post that was named for my new song.

I decided that this song “hatched” a few weeks ago when I wrote something about my mom entitled “She Was There.” I moved those words to this post. There is certainly a lot going on in my life. However, at this moment I want to write about any feelings related to my song.

From the time I was born, I was bathed in love.

I have said before that I had an “unblemished” heart throughout my childhood and youth. I was very much loved and wanted. I was also the youngest in my family and always known as “the baby.” It was hard for my middle brother who had been the youngest for six years before I was born.

My mother was also the baby in her family.

Recently, I remembered I had some DVD conversions of old, “reel to reel” movies. This morning, I decided to watch them. I specifically recalled a scene where my mother “glowed” while showing me off as an infant.

It was especially touching for me to see those images in my “highly charged,” emotional state.

Beams of love shot out of her eyes and face.

Once again, I saw that my mother glowed with pure joy while holding me – she was radiant. She was literally dancing as she held me. I have heard over and over many times that I was “the little girl she had always dreamed of having.”

With my digital skills, I made some “snapshot” images from those old movies.

My mother is pregnant with me in this picture.

This morning, I looked forward to sitting in the garden area with my mom. The sunlight was warm and soothing; it couldn’t have been a more beautiful day. We looked for a nice spot to park my mother’s wheelchair. Her caregiver, Miriam, walked along side of me.

I told my mom that I had recorded a new song. I wondered what she would think about my song, and I asked her if she wanted to listen to it on my iPod.

She did, and I adjusted the music for her while she listened. I was nervous and fidgeted for those few minutes; then she took off the ear buds.

She told me she didn’t like my song!

Miriam also listened to my song. I watched Miriam close her eyes, and tears rolled slowly down her cheeks.

While Miriam was listening my mother said, “Your song is too sad, and it’s too soon. Maybe later on, but not now.”

She didn’t want to think about leaving!

I wasn’t hurt. I smiled broadly and was pleased that I had the courage to share it with her. I wanted to be close enough to still let her know what I was feeling.

We have had great difficulty speaking about anything related to her dying.

I have no idea whether my mother is “dying” or not – I really don’t. According to the hospice team, my mother is definitely appropriate for hospice because she did not have her hip “repaired.

After that, I played my guitar in the golden sunlight. I chose many of my mom’s favorite songs that I used to play. The experience was quite beautiful. After an hour I had to leave to attend a meeting with the staff at my mom’s nursing facility.

The room was full. I was surrounded by a roomful of professionals facing me down. There were nine medical staff members at this meeting. It reminded me of the many times I had advocated for my children. I tried to remain calm and be articulate.

There was a lot of discussion about pain medication. The general opinion was that my mother definitely needed stronger painkillers to address her pain. When my mom has been on any painkiller in the past, she has become extremely disoriented, agitated, or immobile. I explained this.

I have seen my mother in extreme pain before. She has told me she does not have much pain now, even when she has been moved.

The medical staff told me that my mother’s short-term memory prevented her from realizing how much pain she was in. I was also told that perhaps my mom didn’t want to tell me about her pain. It was there when I was not watching.

I reminded everyone that her personal caregiver kept in close touch with me, and had not seen any severe pain that required additional medication. I remained firm that my mother was not to receive them at the current time. If she needed them later on, I’d let them know.

I was told that my mother was not allowed to walk again ever. No therapy would be given.

After that, I requested another opinion from a different orthopedic doctor. I was told the same doctor who did her shoulder repair could give the opinion. That didn’t work for me since his surgery (according to another specialist) was actually not the best approach for my mother.

My mother told me yesterday that her shoulder hurts her more than her hip.

I also mentioned the resident across the hall who walks had told me she had not had surgery for two, fractured hips.

I became sad when I was told that my mom’s “neighbor,” Sara, most definitely had hip surgery; that she was considered too demented to know the truth. Sara seemed very sharp and articulate to me. I will certainly check this out.

But now, I cannot write any more about this!

Clicking on this makes it larger.

The meeting ended and I drove to buy my mother her favorite lunch, a hot dog with fries. I returned with several bags, including soup.

Miriam, my mother, and I ate our picnic. I breathed in deeply and savored the calmness. I was pleased to see how alert my mother was as she relished her food.

Miriam thanked me profusely for arranging this lunch. I was glad that I was able to “make it happen.” I let her know that I received a greater gift in return. Both of us knew this was a special moment I would always remember.

My emotional mood began to overwhelm me. I could feel tears falling inside my throat, because I didn’t want to allow them to fall in front of my mother.

So instead, I unfortunately ate all the leftover French fries. I am so human!

My mother was smiling. I asked her again if she needed any painkillers. She adamantly shook her head no. She said, “I sleep too much already. Plus, I really don’t have any pain, honey!”

As I drove home, my soul ached as I remembered those images of how happy my mom was on the video I watched this morning – of when I was born. I was glad to have seen her so happy today.

I have written four posts that were called “A Daughter’s Love.” I do not plan to follow up any more with the emails that were the beginning of my “writing therapy.” However, I do want to share one message that was one of the last ones I wrote during that time.

I wrote this email message approximately one year ago. My mom was soon to be released from the hospital after being weaned from a respirator for seven weeks.

January 25, 2010

I am finding clarity through writing. It was always another direction I had hoped to explore; it is possible that I might move into that direction more now.

I sat down early this morning, and I began to craft my final entry for Tuesday when my mom is released from the hospital. Here it is:

When my mom had the code blue and was intubated, I spoke with my good friend, Janet, who is a writer. I told her that I couldn’t do anything at this point, so it would be an excellent time to write my mom’s eulogy. I needed to be able to put into words all of my love for her. Since I’d have less than three days to write it, while also planning the funeral, this was something I could definitely make time for. I’d be “on top of things.” Of course, I was also trying to figure out how to straighten up my home for all the visitors.

Janet’s words were brilliant. “Why don’t you just write a tribute, not a eulogy? That way, it will be there if you need it – but if you don’t, it’s also a beautiful thing to do.

Well I realized something this morning. Even though I thought I never found the time to write that eulogy/tribute, it turns out that I was writing a tribute all along through my emails.

My mom and Jason when he was an infant.

(I posted this two weeks ago, but it belongs on this post. I moved it here)

SHE WAS THERE

I was an adult in my early twenties. Suddenly, I felt like a baby again with the stomach flu. I was home alone and could barely move. “I’d be fine,” I told my mom on the phone.

I opened my eyes.

SHE WAS THERE.

It was the kind of fatigue that was beyond being alleviated by sleep. I was full of an intense, restless anxiety while at the same time my eyelids were as heavy as bricks. The night was giving way to dawn.

I had gone another night without a single moment of sleep. Jason wouldn’t stop crying – he was only a few weeks old. I wondered – would I be able to continue this pace of trying to feed this impossibly, sick child without any sleep?

The doorbell rang. Jason was still crying as I opened the front door.

SHE WAS THERE.

There was no reason to get up. I did not want to get up. I was under the covers. I had no tears left and my body was completely spent from crying for days and days. It had been a few months since Jason died and my husband went to work.

No one was home. Even though I heard the doorbell, I ignored it.

I wanted to die.

She had let herself in with a key. My bedroom door opened, and she pulled down my covers. She lay down next to me, and cried.

SHE WAS THERE.

© Judy Unger and http://www.myjourneysinsight.com 2011. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Judy Unger with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Advocacy, Aging Parents, Caregiving, composing, creativity, fractured hip, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, Hospice, inspiration, loss, loss of a mom, loss of a mother, love for my mother, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's hospice, mother's illness, mother's loss, Music, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, terminal illness, tribute to my mother, writing, You Were There | 3 Comments

I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN I’M NOT ALONE

Posted on January 22, 2011 by Judy

This picture of my mother with a rainbow is amazing for me.

Soon it will be the one-year anniversary of “My Journey’s Insight.” I have been thinking about whether I will continue this blog.

I want my blog to stand as testimony of my amazing year. To continue it might trivialize what it represents for me. My accomplishment in one year was my transformation, as I released all of the stories and music from within my heart.

Perhaps there will be new stories and songs for me. I like to wonder about that! I love writing and sharing, so I might pursue another type of venture; I might even start a new blog.

The title for this post comes from my new and upcoming song, You Were There. This new song carries the melody of my instrumental song, Farewell. This past week, the lyrics for my upcoming song flowed out from me.

Although I did write my song “Alone” before experiencing grief, the absolute truth is that I have never been alone. The love from my mother always enveloped me in safety and comfort.

I most certainly had issues with her as many mothers and daughters do. However, I never doubted that my mother loved me deeply; her essence was completely about loving all of her children.

I truly became close to my mother when I became a mother.

Any past enmity that I had toward my mother in my mid-twenties evaporated when I saw how she devoted herself to helping me with Jason. With his death, she echoed my grief. She loved Jason, and still carries his memory.

Below is a recent, message excerpt from my cousin, Dorothy. Messages like this help me continue to stay positive.

Dear Judy,

Thank you for the photos. The picture of the artwork on the table reminded me of your mother and all the art projects she did for you. As a result you are a great artist.

All the things your mother did for you have not only made you a good artist but gave you the persistence to do all the things you did with each and every one of your children.

It sounds as though your mother is slowly gaining her strength back. Judy, you are helping to give her moments of peace. Thank you for all you do. The pictures you send bring back so many wonderful memories. She is such a fighter and has always had so much to give to others with all the love she had inside her.

And now you are giving back to your mother.

Love, Dorothy

There are things I notice about this picture. My father’s face is full; he is so much heavier. My mother has reading glasses and is about the age I am now in this picture. I do not carry any, and I probably should!

The unknown can be scary. For me, there is a lot of unknown about my mother’s condition right now.

It has been difficult for me to counteract medical personnel that view my mother as a rare oddity – someone who has refused surgery. That was why she became a candidate for hospice. Although I am told she is dying, I believe she would be dying in the same way even if she had surgery – only sooner and with significantly more pain.

Certainly, no one has solved for me the riddle of my mother’s dementia!

If I wanted to be angry, I could go to a place of wondering why those same medical personnel were not more helpful about preventing my mother’s accident – or even a future accident!

I don’t go there, although I have a meeting on Monday with the hospice team to discuss my mother’s situation. I hope I won’t express anger when I am faced with an attitude that I have hastened my mother’s demise.

Sadly, my mother has disappeared into a fog of confusion the last few days. It appeared not be related to any medication changes, although she did begin an antidepressant, yesterday.

I try to remain positive. I am able to handle this phase, because she is comfortable and happy. She is not suffering!

Most of the time my mother is sleeping. The other night, I tiptoed in and gently woke her. Her face beamed at me with happiness. I listened to her nonsensical babble and didn’t correct her. I knew she was happy that I was there; even though it was sad that she was so “out of touch.”

Because it was in the back of my mind the slim hope she could take an “anti-dementia” drug, I decided to ask my mom if she still wanted a pacemaker. I gently reminded her that with a pacemaker she would have more energy; I could arrange for it.

Suddenly, my mother’s fog lifted. She told me she did not want any measures done like that. She said to me sternly, “No more hospitals!”

I knew she understood.

I had to ask her something else. I asked again her if she wanted to have surgery to repair her broken hip. She looked at me directly and said, “No way!”

Tears rolled down my cheeks, because my mother suddenly seemed so alert and aware.

She must have known that I needed to hear that.

I left in the twilight. I listened to my new song and cried while I was driving.

Nine months ago, I wrote a story that I called “The other daughter.” In summary, it was about another daughter whose mother was dying while my mother was on a respirator a little over a year ago. A PERFECT DAUGHTER, I’M NOT

“The other daughter” is also a Judy, and she is a good friend of my friend, Janis. Tomorrow night when I perform, Janis and Judy will be coming to watch. Judy has been observing strict, mourning customs since her mother died last December. She did not attend any musical performances for a year. Now she is coming to hear me sing!

After I perform, we are all planning to go out to dinner. I am looking forward to it.

Judy did not have the opportunity to say goodbye to her mother as I have with mine.

I have chosen to look at this time with my mother as a wonderful gift!

I love memories of my parents when they were able to dance.

This morning, I sat in a lovely garden after breakfast with my mother and Miriam, her caregiver. Miriam carried a book with her. She shared with me that this book was helping her. It was a book about faith. She said to me, “Judy, sometimes so many things happen to us and it is those very things that allow us to understand the meaning of life.”

I haven’t read any books in a long time; her book sounded interesting. I remember very well, being very angry with God for the loss of my child. Her simple statement made a lot of sense to me.

I truly understand now how much I have learned from all the challenges in my life!

All of the things I used to fear are not scary anymore. I understand about losing my mother and my father. I even understand that the time will come when I will die.

When that time comes, I will let God know how thankful I am for all the gifts I was given.

I took this picture the other night.

DEMENTIA, IS A DEMON

Dementia is a demon.

This demon is evil and capricious, wily and cunning. Like a poisonous snake, it slowly slithers into the soul. It tightens its evil grip upon the brain. At first, its victim struggles with the ever-tightening awareness. Soon, it becomes too difficult to escape from the demon’s tentacles of torture.

The demon of dementia likes to tease its victim. The demon knows it will ultimately win, so it takes its time.

My mother is now a victim of this demon!

I wish I could pull out that demonic snake and rip it into pieces to prevent it from further destroying my mother’s soul!

This demon taunts me! My mother is still warm, but too weak to fight. I want to understand why this demon invaded someone who is such a kind and loving human!

I do realize there is so much pain and evil in the world!

The demon of dementia might win, but only in the physical sense.

My mother’s soul may have been incrementally stolen, however, love and goodness can still triumph.

The demon of dementia can never take away love and

goodness, because I can carry it on.

My youngest son made this completely on his own and gave it to me. When I asked him why he chose the word “hope,” he said it was for his grandma.

“Lyric adjustment”

Last night when I performed at Border’s I played my new song.

My song felt “finished.” I looked forward to recording it. I did have one, lyric line that I wasn’t 100% sure of. Although, it was honest – it felt “needy” and sad. It was:

“And when you’re not there, I’ll look for your love everywhere.”

I know there is no one on this planet who could love me as much as my mother did. Although I know I am fortunate to have experienced that kind of love, to lose it felt very sad.

This morning, I brought my guitar into my hypnotherapy session. Since music expressed my feelings better than anything, I was eager to share my new song with Connie.

I had changed my strings the night before; the sound was gorgeous. I was glad I was able to play my song without crying. As my last note echoed, I felt peaceful.

Connie gently asked me for an explanation about the lyric line I wasn’t certain of. I was fascinated that she had picked up on my sadness with those words!

We talked about it.

I left her guesthouse knowing my song was truly finished. I was now 100% sure about my lyric line. It became:

“And when you’re not there, I’ll still see your love everywhere.”

PEACHES LESSON EXCERPT – 1/20/11

PEACHES LESSON – YOU WERE THERE – 1/20/11

Tagged "sandwich generation", acoustic guitar, Advocacy, Aging Parents, Caregiving, composing, creativity, Daily Life, dementia, guitar, Hypnotherapy, inspiration, loss, lovesong, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mother, mother daughter relationship, mother's illness, Music, Ordinary Life, original songs, performing, singing, songwriting, voice lessons, writing | 4 Comments

I STILL REMEMBER THE LAUGHTER WE SHARED

Posted on January 19, 2011 by Judy

A beautiful day that I will always remember – today.

Between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one, I wrote at least thirty songs. When I remember the musical years of my youth, I have clear and intense sensations of joy.

I know that it is hard for me to admit that for the last thirty years I did not experience that kind of joy. I assumed it was in the past and “over” for me.

I was such a different person when I devoted myself to being an artist and raising my children. I experienced many other emotions; perhaps “satisfaction” is descriptive of how I felt about my career. I certainly felt immense love for my family.

It has been difficult for them to adjust to my “new personality.” Now I spend a lot more time indulging my passions and not taking care of them. For such a long time, I was very good at taking care of a lot of people!

Today, the new person that I am had an adventure. I am pleased to share that I had a joyful memory that reminded me of my youth. I felt like I was twenty years old again!

At dinner tonight, my husband and family regaled in hearing me describe today’s adventure. I am proud to say I went on a “mushroom hunting expedition,” and I am still alive after eating those delicious chanterelles!

With the writing of my blog, “My Journey’s Insight” I have rediscovered many wonderful friendships. My college friend, Carol (#200), and my childhood friend, Joni (#213) met me this morning at my mother’s nursing facility to embark on our adventure.

Judy, Joni and Carol before embarking on our adventure.

Before we left, it was interesting for my mother to see my two good friends – especially Carol after so many years. Both Carol and Joni had joined me separately on family vacations, and we had a lot of wonderful memories.My mother had excellent long-term memory this morning. She remembered that Carol had dated my ex-boyfriend Sam!

When Carol first suggested hiking to me, I was enthused. When I am outdoors I am always mesmerized by the colors and textures that surround me. I love the aromas also and that alone can trigger wonderful memories for me from childhood.

When Carol mentioned I could join her on a hike collecting Chanterelle mushrooms, I wasn’t sure if I was courageous enough to eat them. However, Carol was an experienced forager with a lot of knowledge; she had survived her previous exploits. I was tempted!

My childhood friend, Joni, probably had not seen Carol since one of my birthday parties in 1980. I put all three of us into a picture below.

Carol, Joni, & Judy in 1980.

Joni knew about my outing and mentioned to me that she loved mushrooms. It was lovely that Carol was open to including her.

Thirty years are a long time between girlfriend exploits. The three of us girls tramped through the Santa Monica Mountains today and reveled in our freedom and our maturity!

Carol and Judy made a new memory today.

The weather was gorgeous. I almost could believe that I was twenty again! Carol had scouted the area a week earlier. She knew where the moist riparian areas that might have chanterelles were.

Finding the mushrooms after hiking for an hour was like discovering treasure. I almost slid down the steep hillside from the thrill!

While Carol and Joni cleaned and prepared the mushrooms, I serenaded them with my guitar. Carol was well prepared; she brought a camp stove and sautéed the mushrooms in butter, sea-salt and olive oil.

All three of us moaned and groaned as we devoured our treasures.

It was a beautiful day and reminded me of how much I love my life!

It was really breezy and in order for the frying pan to get hot enough, Carol put it in this grilling area.

I’m not going to eat this one!

A reunion with three of my friends after thirty years.

“A fully realized spirit”

Today I wrote something to a good friend. My friend had sent me this message:

I have to see that I remain in awe of your coping skills and your ability to focus successfully of what needs to be done (for your mom and kids) and what you want to be done (creating). You are becoming quite a fully realized spirit. Sometimes, I wonder if God didn’t put you here to inspire the rest of us.

My good friend has been grieving a terrible loss that happened less than two years ago. I let her know to be gentle with herself. I grieved for so many years!

I’m glad if I could inspire other people!

I told my friend that when I was grieving, my soul was “dried up” and I had no ability to access my creativity.

There were so many years when I raised my children and struggled with my grief. Although I was an illustrator, art was something of a technical exercise for me – I became adept at following directions and “copying.”

I have a lot of appreciation for my creative abilities.

I believe a lot of my joy now is because I have allowed myself permission to follow my passion!

Below are the creative pursuits that I was born with an affinity toward:

1. Art, 2. Music, 3. Writing

In regards to art, I do not desire to paint anymore. I find the computer a fascinating tool, and working with my artwork digitally has been very helpful for my “aging” eyes.

In regards to music, I can only say that it has been an “IV of comfort to my soul.” I could not be more excited at this moment. I will soon be recording two more songs to add to my repertoire. The anticipation of hearing my songs arranged has me dancing with joy!

I called my arranger, George yesterday. He said, “Hey Jude, I just had a feeling you’d be calling me – I could feel it!” He also told me he could certainly hear the excitement in my voice. A couple of months ago, I was running out of songs to record. At one of our last sessions, I choked on my tears that I would miss seeing George every week.

Every penny spent on recording has given me more happiness than anything I have every done in my entire life. After many years of devoting myself to other people, I have invested in myself!

My payoff is this: I could die tomorrow and I’d be happy because I know I’ve experienced unimaginable joy! I honestly mean that!

Below is a picture of how my bathroom looks with all my drafts for my latest song. I scrawled at least fifty pages of lyrics and chords. I cry when I play my new song. It has invaded my heart and I can’t hear any other music at the moment. It needs more polishing, but my song truly explains to me why my journey began with my mother’s recovery last January. I will certainly share more about it soon.

Writing is truly a mystery for me.

Writing lyrics is hard work. Sometimes I cannot write, I just hum and sing. Then words suddenly are sung and the whole process fills me with amazement.

For my blog, the desire to write can easily awaken me. I am compelled me to go to my computer, because I hear sentences speaking loudly in my head. That happened to me a lot earlier this year when I was writing about traumatic events in my life.

Recently, I have written a lot of updates regarding my mother’s condition. When I am emotionally overwrought, writing becomes a great outlet. Like contractions, I expel the words and the stories – then I am spent and can rest for a while.

Last week, I wasn’t able to rest. I guess I was overwhelmed with my mother’s situation. I wrote almost every day!

I wrote my last post four days ago. I appreciated that my mind allowed me to rest.

However, I realize that some of my readers are relatives or friends of my mother’s and are looking for an “update.”

My mother has a strong spirit, but her aging body imprisons her.

The demon of dementia raises it’s ugly presence to remind me how little control I have regarding my mother’s circumstances! She has been extremely confused the last two days.

Her wonderful caregiver, Miriam, allows me a lot of respite from the situation. However, there has been a lot of risk for Miriam regarding my mother’s desire to walk. I am seeking another opinion regarding my mother’s hip fracture.

My mother has been battling a respiratory ailment for over two months. I realize that is why I felt surgery was risky for her. The memory of when my mother was intubated and put on a respirator after surgery to repair her broken shoulder a little over a year ago is still very traumatic for me.

An antidepressant was prescribed for my mother. It will be interesting to see if it is helpful for her or not.

My greatest fear is seeing my mother suffer. I can share that.

Tagged "sandwich generation", Aging Parents, Caregiving, chanterelles, childhood friendship, composing, creativity, Daily Life, Friendship, GRIEF RELATED, guitar, lyric development, lyric writing, lyrics, mushroom hunting, Music, Ordinary Life, original songs, songwriting | 2 Comments

I NEVER DREAMED IT’D HAPPEN

Posted on January 15, 2011 by Judy

I couldn’t believe I found this picture of my mom! I remember while growing up she told me she was hurt badly on a swing when she was a young girl.

Link for lyrics, recordings and other stories: YOU ARE MY WINGS

“A few nights ago”

I was saying goodnight on the phone to my mother. Her voice was soft and she sounded very tired. I was about to hang up, and she said, “Honey, I want to ask you something.”

I waited and wondered what it was she wanted to ask me. She said, “I wish I could get stronger. Do you think there is a way for me to do that?”

My heart ached as I told her to give it more time. At that moment, I had tremendous admiration for my mother and significant pain for doubting that she would keep trying.

My mother was not about to let the ravages of old age prevent her from giving up hope!

“The next morning”

Miriam called me – I could tell by her voice that she was trying to contain her anxiety.

“Judy, you must talk with your mother – she is angry at everyone including me. She cannot understand why she is not allowed to walk!”

The phone was given to my mother. I explained to her how she could actually harm the healing process; she must accept that walking would come later. I told my mom not to be angry with Miriam. When our call was over, I could tell my mother was crying.

After that I began to make calls. I spoke with a nurse practitioner and it was explained to me that no weight was allowed on my mom’s unrepaired hip. My mother would not have any physical therapy for several months.

It sounded discouraging to me.

Then I spoke with a nursing supervisor and I asked if my mother could stand up to use a toilet. My mother might not be allowed to walk, but she could stand on her “good leg” to use a toilet. The supervisor told me a commode that was the correct height for my mother would need to be ordered. It would take a day or two for it to arrive.

When my mother fell and broke her hip, I was told that without surgery she might die over the weekend. Now my mother had no pain and wanted to walk!

I began to realize that my mother’s hospice services were not as helpful as I thought they would be.

All medical decisions had to go through the hospice department. I still did not hear back after a week about obtaining a “prescription” so my mother could have a seatbelt. Otherwise, she was close to sliding out of her enormous wheelchair. I decided to let that go.

For several weeks, I had left messages and spoken with numerous medical personnel about obtaining an antidepressant medication for my mother. My father had been against it for such a long time, but I decided my mom’s fall was actually a result of her depression and frustration.

My mom’s dementia was a demon that she was also aware of. I was incredulous when I received a call back from a hospice nurse. She said, “What makes you think your mom is depressed? Please tell me why you think she’s depressed.”

I cannot write anymore about this without feeling like I am in a tragic, comedy show!

It did not seem possible that anyone could be more depressed than my mother over her predicament! My mother had always been such an optimistic person, and her unhappiness radiated from her much of the time. I couldn’t believe I had to explain it!

I articulated my mother’s situation to this hospice nurse.

She told me this, “Your mother’s sadness is based only on her situation and therefore would not be treatable with an antidepressant!”

I was absolutely astounded to hear this! How quickly my mom would be prescribed Morphine and Vicodin without a second thought. My mom’s “mental anguish” however, was far worse for her than any physical pain. My mother-in-law gave up on her life due to her mental anguish. I saw first-hand the result of deep depression.

This nurse told me to think about discontinuing Hospice. I felt embarrassed for all the paperwork I had generated. It was such a waste of time, and what if I ended up needing it in the near future?

After being told to “think about it for a few days,” I did just that. I plan to have it discontinued.

This is such a great memory. My mom loved playing blackjack with me. This was taken while we were on vacation together in Vegas at a “swim up” blackjack table.

“I was shopping”

I had a list from Miriam of things I could buy for my mom. I was at Sears buying socks when Miriam called.

She said that the special commode had arrived and my mom had used it.

We were both crying and laughing – for my mom to use a toilet was a huge step for her dignity! HUGE!

I shook my head and felt much more resolute about discontinuing hospice.

“My hypnotherapy experience”

I needed to find an alternative thought to replace what I had just blurted out to Connie.

I had said, “Oh my god, my doubt about the decision around my mom having surgery is KILLING ME!”

I came up with a replacement first for the word “doubt.” Far better than saying “doubt” was saying “uncertainty.” Of course it meant the same thing, but Connie and I agreed it was a “lighter” approach.

The “killing me” part slipped out before I knew it.

It was definitely a painful admission. I talked about it with Connie, and explained how human I was. Despite feeling “courageous” and inspirational, it was still very difficult to counter so many people in the medical field.

However, nothing was actually “killing me” badly enough. I can honestly say, that I have been dancing through my life, lately. I’ve had no “stomach issues,” which usually are a manifestation of stress in my life.

That’s amazing because I still have teenagers, too!

Connie had taken a lot of notes. She said she would give my own words back to me. My replacement sentence (using my own words) for the doubt around my decision killing me was:

“With uncertainty, came beautiful surprises that were completely unexpected!”

“Lunchtime with my mom”

It had been two days since I had visited. I had stopped by at night, but I didn’t count that because my mother was asleep. I had dropped off all the new items that I had bought for her.

My mother ate her lunch and beamed at my presence. Miriam enjoyed feeding her one of her favorite lunches – deli food. I nibbled at leftovers and smiled at all the residents that now knew me as the “musical lady!”

I was ready to leave and Miriam gave me a warm hug. She told me how my mom once again used the commode and had no pain. It was still a huge production to wheel her special wheelchair toward the bathroom. The size of the wheelchair left little area to maneuver. Tremendous patience and energy was needed to pull this off.

I had no doubt that Miriam was up to the challenge.

Then she whispered something to me. She said, “Judy, I couldn’t stop her. She stood and walked two steps.”