I thought taking care of my father was tiring
planning a funeral is more so
yesterday we woke
in a daze
we had a 1pm appointment at the funeral home
Its the same place that Aunt A and Uncle G and many of the other people in my father's family had used
The funeral home is across the street from a church
down the street from where my father's family used to have their farm
around the corner from the park
which used to be the home of Mr Sayens where my father gardened and listened to shakespeare
across from the park was the place my father worked for 35 years
In the winter when my Dad was a boy
his family would ride to church in a horse drawn sled
their farm was on land which now has a McDonalds a bank lots of shops and restaurants
a few blocks away stands a corner deli
it used to be Smith's Deli owned by my grandparents
not too far away was the place where my father once saw a dead man
their house was the first on the street to have plumbing
can you imagine that?
so much change in my father's lifetime
This is the only funeral home for him
nothing else would work
it's an odd experience
the way you are talked to by the staff
so much.... weird... almost fake concern
so much money
for almost ridiculous reasons.
shopping for coffins like shopping for cars
open them up and check out the interiors
I hope I don't offend
but then there is an accessory section
little decorations made of ceramic to put at the corners of the coffin (Like a fish and a hook coming out of some blue water)
knitted sort of... backboards with pictures of american flags or golf clubs or crosses
How do you navigate this bizarre experience?
How do you choose a coffin?
who cares... really
My father is dead
should we choose the bronze or the gray?
wood or metal?
my father had alzheimer disease
a ceramic garden trough?
my father died because his lungs could not give him enough oxygen
half or full lid?
then today we had to choose a mausoleum. My mom's idea. SHe is afraid she won't actually be dead when they bury her.
She wants a mausoleum so that if she wakes up
it'll be easier to get out.
I told her we'll put her cel phone in with her
just give us a call if she needs help opening the crypt
"entombment" they call it
The choice was good
its in a section of the cemetery which faces a different cemetery across a street.
In this cemetery is my mother's relatives (the catholics)
across the street my father's
(baptists)
the tomb is high enough that he can look over at his family
it also happens to be facing where my mother's mother is buried
so its nice for her as well.
tons of family members
friends
people we don't know
are calling or stopping by
actually they are stopping by my sister's house because we end up being there quite often
people are saying the most amazing things
its very nice... really
a death sort of... brings people back to reality
they take a moment to think
and say what they mean
you connect with people over this death which has happened
I think people become a little afraid
and they reach out to each other
my father is an end of an era
its difficult to explain but true
with him dies a whole wealth of stories and memories
no one else can tell them
no one else was there and lives to tell about it
the stage curtain goes down
the book gets closed
sure there is a sequel always is
but its rarely the same is it?
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
11:35 PM
Dad died
a nurse from the hospice unit called us at about 10:45
She told us that Dad's skin felt cold, he breathed rapidly even after morphine and that his feet were turning purple
apparently the purple feet is a big sign of approaching death
Mom had to go to the toilet
I called my sister and told her
she was in a daze because I woke her up
she had to go to the toilet
she called back
we all decided to go to the hospital
as we were leaving the house
we got another call
Dad had died
we went to see him anyway
Im angry
I wanted so badly to be with him at the end
how was it for him
how did it feel?
could he recognize that we weren't there with him?
did it hurt?
did he give up? or boldly let go?
was he afraid or at peace?
I'll never know
when we arrived his skin shone white
like new paper
his eyes closed
but
his mouth wide open
when a person dies all the muscles in the body relax
the mouth goes loose
the jaws separate
you can't keep the lips together... it's not possible to just close his mouth
because it'll just fall open again
his muscles were still soft
I rubbed his arm
and his leg
but his face
to be honest
looked... scary
white and gaping
his chest looked like it moved up and down
really
His face looked dead
but his body still seemed to live
it was so odd
and then I just wanted to leave the room
get in the car
come home
sleep
tomorrow we have a meeting at the funeral home
Ill continue to write about this experience
He is named Kenneth Calvin Smith
He always hated the name Calvin
I think its lovely
He was a 6th generation American
German English Irish mix
He loved horses and gardening
he could talk to anyone
told wonderful stories
had friends everywhere
whenever he got mad he'd say
"We're moving to Virginia!"
which used to frighten me more than anything
he hated snakes
once boasted that he'd eat anything but anchoves
he old great jokes
loved to travel
liked to learn... watched the history channel a lot
he had alzheimer disease
and
parkinson disease
and
lyme's disease
he was an amazing father
a good friend
a dedicated husband
i love him
a nurse from the hospice unit called us at about 10:45
She told us that Dad's skin felt cold, he breathed rapidly even after morphine and that his feet were turning purple
apparently the purple feet is a big sign of approaching death
Mom had to go to the toilet
I called my sister and told her
she was in a daze because I woke her up
she had to go to the toilet
she called back
we all decided to go to the hospital
as we were leaving the house
we got another call
Dad had died
we went to see him anyway
Im angry
I wanted so badly to be with him at the end
how was it for him
how did it feel?
could he recognize that we weren't there with him?
did it hurt?
did he give up? or boldly let go?
was he afraid or at peace?
I'll never know
when we arrived his skin shone white
like new paper
his eyes closed
but
his mouth wide open
when a person dies all the muscles in the body relax
the mouth goes loose
the jaws separate
you can't keep the lips together... it's not possible to just close his mouth
because it'll just fall open again
his muscles were still soft
I rubbed his arm
and his leg
but his face
to be honest
looked... scary
white and gaping
his chest looked like it moved up and down
really
His face looked dead
but his body still seemed to live
it was so odd
and then I just wanted to leave the room
get in the car
come home
sleep
tomorrow we have a meeting at the funeral home
Ill continue to write about this experience
He is named Kenneth Calvin Smith
He always hated the name Calvin
I think its lovely
He was a 6th generation American
German English Irish mix
He loved horses and gardening
he could talk to anyone
told wonderful stories
had friends everywhere
whenever he got mad he'd say
"We're moving to Virginia!"
which used to frighten me more than anything
he hated snakes
once boasted that he'd eat anything but anchoves
he old great jokes
loved to travel
liked to learn... watched the history channel a lot
he had alzheimer disease
and
parkinson disease
and
lyme's disease
he was an amazing father
a good friend
a dedicated husband
i love him
call
the phone rang
I answered
It's the hospice nurse
she told me
she doesn't think Dad will last the night
he is cold to touch
his breathing is very labored
his feet are turning purple
we live so damned far away
she's not sure if he will last an hour
I had to tell my mom
that was hard
my heart raced
my mind flitted around like a moth
i couldn't look her in the eye
she surprises me
she listened to all I said
and she said
"Oh. Okay..."
I started to cry
she held me
said I love you
We can't even be sure it will happen tonight
so many people have told us so many different things
but i have to go
I MUST
Mom is not sure she wants to
I NEED to
I want to
i have to
my sister called me back
told me she's coming with me
please pray or whatever for...
not for him to live
but just
pray
take a few moments of silent reflection
on anything
Ill fill you in later
when I get back to my MAC
I answered
It's the hospice nurse
she told me
she doesn't think Dad will last the night
he is cold to touch
his breathing is very labored
his feet are turning purple
we live so damned far away
she's not sure if he will last an hour
I had to tell my mom
that was hard
my heart raced
my mind flitted around like a moth
i couldn't look her in the eye
she surprises me
she listened to all I said
and she said
"Oh. Okay..."
I started to cry
she held me
said I love you
We can't even be sure it will happen tonight
so many people have told us so many different things
but i have to go
I MUST
Mom is not sure she wants to
I NEED to
I want to
i have to
my sister called me back
told me she's coming with me
please pray or whatever for...
not for him to live
but just
pray
take a few moments of silent reflection
on anything
Ill fill you in later
when I get back to my MAC
hospital to hospice
Dad can not come home right now... and he can't stay at the hospital any longer.
The doctor refuses (well thats strong because we've agreed as well) to believe that
my father can improve in the hospital setting.
They transferred my father to hospice last night.
Unfortunately the amount of oxygen he needs to breath properly
cannot be administered in the home setting.
St Frances, a hospital in Trenton, has a good hospice unit.
(Can a Czech person translate the word for hospice? many of my Czech friends have asked)
They will care for him
give him more morphine
focus on his body sores
talk to him more
stick pins in him less (for example, they will give him morphine under the tongue instead of through an IV)
There will be no more antibiotics given.
At this point they do more harm then good
my father's body wont respond to them
I like St Francis
while I lived in Italy I visited Assisi and the small... enclave outside of the center on a hill were St Frances lived in.... the 12th century??? I think...
A very interesting fellow
He brought nature into Catholicism
Born wealthy Francis later gave up everything... I think his idea was that only the... poor (but he means people with nothing... not necessarily living a "poor" life... like growing your food instead of buying it... well like Ghandi) could be close to God. He also found God in nature. It is believed he could speak with animals. At some point I think his palms mysteriously began to bleed as Jesus' hands on the cross.
He wrote poetry and most of it honored god through honoring nature.
Here is one of his poems... I don't love this translation. When the poem was translated to me by a good friend... it was beautiful and simple and not so flowery. There are certainly less Italian words than the translated English ones here but it gives you an idea:
Most high, all-powerful, all good, Lord!
All praise is yours, all glory, all honor
And all blessing.
To you alone, Most High, do they belong.
No mortal lips are worthy
To pronounce your name.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made,
And first my lord Brother Sun,
Who brings the day; and light you give to us through him.
How beautiful is he, how radiant in all his splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Moon and Stars;
In the heavens you have made them, bright
And precious and fair.
All praise be yours, My Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all the weather's moods,
By which you cherish all that you have made.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Water,
So useful, lowly, precious and pure.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
Through whom you brighten up the night.
How beautiful is he, how gay! Full of power and strength.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Earth, our mother,
Who feeds us in her sovereignty and produces
Various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through those who grant pardon
For love of you; through those who endure
Sickness and trial.
Happy those who endure in peace,
By you, Most High, they will be crowned.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Death,
From whose embrace no mortal can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those She finds doing your will!
The second death can do no harm to them.
Praise and bless my Lord, and give him thanks,
And serve him with great humility.
The doctor refuses (well thats strong because we've agreed as well) to believe that
my father can improve in the hospital setting.
They transferred my father to hospice last night.
Unfortunately the amount of oxygen he needs to breath properly
cannot be administered in the home setting.
St Frances, a hospital in Trenton, has a good hospice unit.
(Can a Czech person translate the word for hospice? many of my Czech friends have asked)
They will care for him
give him more morphine
focus on his body sores
talk to him more
stick pins in him less (for example, they will give him morphine under the tongue instead of through an IV)
There will be no more antibiotics given.
At this point they do more harm then good
my father's body wont respond to them
I like St Francis
while I lived in Italy I visited Assisi and the small... enclave outside of the center on a hill were St Frances lived in.... the 12th century??? I think...
A very interesting fellow
He brought nature into Catholicism
Born wealthy Francis later gave up everything... I think his idea was that only the... poor (but he means people with nothing... not necessarily living a "poor" life... like growing your food instead of buying it... well like Ghandi) could be close to God. He also found God in nature. It is believed he could speak with animals. At some point I think his palms mysteriously began to bleed as Jesus' hands on the cross.
He wrote poetry and most of it honored god through honoring nature.
Here is one of his poems... I don't love this translation. When the poem was translated to me by a good friend... it was beautiful and simple and not so flowery. There are certainly less Italian words than the translated English ones here but it gives you an idea:
Most high, all-powerful, all good, Lord!
All praise is yours, all glory, all honor
And all blessing.
To you alone, Most High, do they belong.
No mortal lips are worthy
To pronounce your name.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through all that you have made,
And first my lord Brother Sun,
Who brings the day; and light you give to us through him.
How beautiful is he, how radiant in all his splendor!
Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Moon and Stars;
In the heavens you have made them, bright
And precious and fair.
All praise be yours, My Lord, through Brothers Wind and Air,
And fair and stormy, all the weather's moods,
By which you cherish all that you have made.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Water,
So useful, lowly, precious and pure.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Brother Fire,
Through whom you brighten up the night.
How beautiful is he, how gay! Full of power and strength.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Earth, our mother,
Who feeds us in her sovereignty and produces
Various fruits with colored flowers and herbs.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through those who grant pardon
For love of you; through those who endure
Sickness and trial.
Happy those who endure in peace,
By you, Most High, they will be crowned.
All praise be yours, my Lord, through Sister Death,
From whose embrace no mortal can escape.
Woe to those who die in mortal sin!
Happy those She finds doing your will!
The second death can do no harm to them.
Praise and bless my Lord, and give him thanks,
And serve him with great humility.
Monday, January 3, 2011
I think they did
I just got off the phone with my father's social case worker
'have you made any decisions about your father?"
"Well. I haven't spoken with the doctor yet. We want him to come home but we are waiting to see what the doctor says."
"Your father is on 15 liters of oxygen. He won't be able to go home."
"But the doctor was going to try to wean him off of the oxygen and see what happens"
"I think they did. And it didn't work."
"Well, we were there last night and the nurse told me that there hadn't been any changes to her knowledge."
"I think they did."
"Well, the nurse said not."
"I think they did."
WELL YOU THINK
so WHAT
you
THINK
what is that supposed to mean. It doesn't seem like you KNOW.
I want someone to KNOW before I make any decisions.
What the H is this THINK crap.
The man is DYING
he hurts
he gasps for breath
he gets thrown around his bed
he takes morphine
you THINK
screw your THINK
'have you made any decisions about your father?"
"Well. I haven't spoken with the doctor yet. We want him to come home but we are waiting to see what the doctor says."
"Your father is on 15 liters of oxygen. He won't be able to go home."
"But the doctor was going to try to wean him off of the oxygen and see what happens"
"I think they did. And it didn't work."
"Well, we were there last night and the nurse told me that there hadn't been any changes to her knowledge."
"I think they did."
"Well, the nurse said not."
"I think they did."
WELL YOU THINK
so WHAT
you
THINK
what is that supposed to mean. It doesn't seem like you KNOW.
I want someone to KNOW before I make any decisions.
What the H is this THINK crap.
The man is DYING
he hurts
he gasps for breath
he gets thrown around his bed
he takes morphine
you THINK
screw your THINK
Sunday, January 2, 2011
little bits of hope
We stayed at the hospital for about 2 and a half hours today.
My Dad breathed comfortably today.
When the nurse removed his oxygen mask to clean his face she said
"Doesn't that feel better?"
And my Dad said
"Yesssss."
It's the first thing he has said in about 4 weeks!
It sounded so... childlike and ghostlike at the same time.
It was sweet and eerie
It made me cry and shiver
He also coughed
which is a good thing as well
funny how a cough and a word define improvement
I promised to relay the story of my parents on their wedding day.
After the wedding and reception a friend of my father's offered to drive them home.
the got in the car... my parents in the back seat
both extremely nervous
this was 1962
On the way they got into an accident.
My father hurt (I think sprained) his arm
and my mother
hurt her nose.
In my fantasy my parents are rushed to the hospital
my father in a tux with his arm in a cast
and my mother in her white wedding gown
in a wheelchair
with a cast on her nose
(this didn't happen by the way... they'd already changed before they'd got into the car... and no one actually broke anything)
My mother looked at me today and said
"I don't know what I'm going to do without your father"
I didn't know what to say... what I thought was... maybe we could drive across the country and see the Grand Canyon
or
maybe you could travel to Italy again
or
see a movie
or
do any of the stuff you always wanted to do but couldn't for the last few years because Dad has needed so much help.
I couldn't say these things to her... I don't think she's ready to think about it.
So I just held her hand.
This is a strange period of life
this limbo time
like the dance
except you keep going under the limbo stick
keep arching your back
closer and closer to the floor
almost falling backwards
straining all your abdomen muscles
but never fulling getting past the stick
it's still there above your nose
time slows down more and more
can you make it?
will you have a chance to go around for one more try?
My Dad breathed comfortably today.
When the nurse removed his oxygen mask to clean his face she said
"Doesn't that feel better?"
And my Dad said
"Yesssss."
It's the first thing he has said in about 4 weeks!
It sounded so... childlike and ghostlike at the same time.
It was sweet and eerie
It made me cry and shiver
He also coughed
which is a good thing as well
funny how a cough and a word define improvement
I promised to relay the story of my parents on their wedding day.
After the wedding and reception a friend of my father's offered to drive them home.
the got in the car... my parents in the back seat
both extremely nervous
this was 1962
On the way they got into an accident.
My father hurt (I think sprained) his arm
and my mother
hurt her nose.
In my fantasy my parents are rushed to the hospital
my father in a tux with his arm in a cast
and my mother in her white wedding gown
in a wheelchair
with a cast on her nose
(this didn't happen by the way... they'd already changed before they'd got into the car... and no one actually broke anything)
My mother looked at me today and said
"I don't know what I'm going to do without your father"
I didn't know what to say... what I thought was... maybe we could drive across the country and see the Grand Canyon
or
maybe you could travel to Italy again
or
see a movie
or
do any of the stuff you always wanted to do but couldn't for the last few years because Dad has needed so much help.
I couldn't say these things to her... I don't think she's ready to think about it.
So I just held her hand.
This is a strange period of life
this limbo time
like the dance
except you keep going under the limbo stick
keep arching your back
closer and closer to the floor
almost falling backwards
straining all your abdomen muscles
but never fulling getting past the stick
it's still there above your nose
time slows down more and more
can you make it?
will you have a chance to go around for one more try?
Saturday, January 1, 2011
literature
I have read a story by a half Chippewa woman. It's called Lipsha Morrissey and there is a moment in the book where a young man faces the death of his grandfather and has this enlightenment,
"Your life feels different on you, once you greet death and understand your heart's position. You wear your life like a garment from the mission bundle sale ever after-lightly because you realize you never paid nothing for it, cherishing because you know you won't ever come by such a bargain again."
For christmas my sister purchased a year's worth of Neflix for my Mom. My mom is a bit ... culture clueless so I ordered her first film for her. I ordered the film THE BUCKET LIST. I knew that the theme of death ran through it... but it had been marketed as a comedy... and with Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson... could you go wrong with that?
This film is NO comedy... the moments which are supposed to be the funny bits appear after about 1 hour of watching the two actors struggle through a hospital stay and months of kimotherapy (i have no idea how to spell this but I suspect that che... may be more correct than ki)... the funny bits take all of 3 minutes (and aren't very funny) and then the 2 characters become ill again.
THIS WAS NOT THE FILM TO SHOW MY MOTHER
I was angry... at myself and at marketing companies
will this veil of death-
which seems to have been blown
from a far place
lifting on wind
dancing through air
and lightly fallen atop
our heads-
ever be blown away again
how strong a breath must be
to relift the kitelike veil
send it south or westaward
away
and we
again veiless
feel the true touch
of magic life
around us
Dad breaths at about 51 intakes of breath a minute
the average person breaths about 20 to 25... at rest maybe less
even after receiving morphine
lately
Dad still breathes at about 35 to 40
It may be because his lungs are too full
and to obtain enough air
his body hastily
expands and contracts
like after running up
5 flights of stairs
Just for a minute
give it a try
breath double quickly
for a full minute
right now as you read this
how did it feel?
I do it now as I type
I feel frenzied
and get dizzy and almost forget to breathe at all
I have to force myself to continue
and I canr really concentrate on the worsx I want to t write i write faster ato macth my frenxzied bretah I know i make mistakes I can't even handle the feelijng anymore i want to stop and mt my dad must go through this for hourts after only 30 secnds
I stopped. My mind... agonized to stay focused
even now my throbbing head fights to return
to its normal semblance
this was 1 minute of time
one minute of my life
and I feel the repercussions of it long after the experience.
He breathes rapidly all day long
through the night
while he sleeps or wakes
his limbs swell from lack of movement
his eyes bulge open and fear all they connect with
a movement of his legs from left to right
causes him great pain.
how does he exist?
and yet he exists
in this constant state
he is brave
"Your life feels different on you, once you greet death and understand your heart's position. You wear your life like a garment from the mission bundle sale ever after-lightly because you realize you never paid nothing for it, cherishing because you know you won't ever come by such a bargain again."
For christmas my sister purchased a year's worth of Neflix for my Mom. My mom is a bit ... culture clueless so I ordered her first film for her. I ordered the film THE BUCKET LIST. I knew that the theme of death ran through it... but it had been marketed as a comedy... and with Morgan Freeman and Jack Nicholson... could you go wrong with that?
This film is NO comedy... the moments which are supposed to be the funny bits appear after about 1 hour of watching the two actors struggle through a hospital stay and months of kimotherapy (i have no idea how to spell this but I suspect that che... may be more correct than ki)... the funny bits take all of 3 minutes (and aren't very funny) and then the 2 characters become ill again.
THIS WAS NOT THE FILM TO SHOW MY MOTHER
I was angry... at myself and at marketing companies
will this veil of death-
which seems to have been blown
from a far place
lifting on wind
dancing through air
and lightly fallen atop
our heads-
ever be blown away again
how strong a breath must be
to relift the kitelike veil
send it south or westaward
away
and we
again veiless
feel the true touch
of magic life
around us
Dad breaths at about 51 intakes of breath a minute
the average person breaths about 20 to 25... at rest maybe less
even after receiving morphine
lately
Dad still breathes at about 35 to 40
It may be because his lungs are too full
and to obtain enough air
his body hastily
expands and contracts
like after running up
5 flights of stairs
Just for a minute
give it a try
breath double quickly
for a full minute
right now as you read this
how did it feel?
I do it now as I type
I feel frenzied
and get dizzy and almost forget to breathe at all
I have to force myself to continue
and I canr really concentrate on the worsx I want to t write i write faster ato macth my frenxzied bretah I know i make mistakes I can't even handle the feelijng anymore i want to stop and mt my dad must go through this for hourts after only 30 secnds
I stopped. My mind... agonized to stay focused
even now my throbbing head fights to return
to its normal semblance
this was 1 minute of time
one minute of my life
and I feel the repercussions of it long after the experience.
He breathes rapidly all day long
through the night
while he sleeps or wakes
his limbs swell from lack of movement
his eyes bulge open and fear all they connect with
a movement of his legs from left to right
causes him great pain.
how does he exist?
and yet he exists
in this constant state
he is brave
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