The Death Watch of My Mother: Part Four
November 20, 2006
This is Part Four of this series by Missy. Here are Parts One, Two and Three.
I was trying not to be angry at my Dad. I sat with my hospital cafeteria coffee and picked at my turkey sandwich. I wished he had told me sooner how serious it was. Maybe he didn’t realize Mom was dying; I mean he did at least call and tell me when things were really bad. But what about Todd? Damn; all the way down in Texas and fighting a bureaucracy for the chance to say goodbye to his Mom. It sucked. We could have used some extra time here.
I was coming to the realization that I wouldn’t be able to talk to her. That I wouldn’t be able to have a meaningful conversation with her ever again. Suddenly it hit me like a ton of bricks and I put my head on the table and sobbed.
People in hospitals know grief. They know when to approach it and when to leave it alone. Everyone walked wide circles around me. After a few minutes and half a dozen paper napkins I picked up another cup of coffee and took it with me back up to my Mom’s room.
My Dad hadn’t changed position since I left, save for the Rosary moving through his fingers. I sat down next to him quietly and watched the LED lights of the monitor move with my Mom’s heart beat and respirations. It didn’t seem long before Iva and Grampa arrived.
Grampa looked frail holding on to Iva as he walked in. It was a shock to me; he always seemed so healthy. I stood up and hugged him.
“Hi, hi. Hi, hi,” he said patting my back. “God bless you, Missy. Thank goodness you’re here.” I moved from Grampa to Iva and we embraced. We all sat down.
“This is a hell of thing, a hell of a thing,” said Grampa shaking his head. “It shouldn’t be like this.” I didn’t know what to say. How does a person watch their daughter die? Is it more or less traumatic than watching your mother die? Or your wife? I couldn’t comfort him. I couldn’t say, “oh, it’ll be okay,” because it wasn’t going to be okay. I couldn’t say, “how are you?” because it was pretty obvious he was as miserable as a human could be. I said the only thing I could think of at the moment.
“Todd’s on his way.” Grampa nodded making a teepee of his hands. A moment later his face was covered by his hands and he was making crying sounds. Iva’s arm was around his shoulder. I had never seen my Grampa cry before. He went up to my Mother.
“Oh, Eleanor,” he sobbed putting an arm over her chest in a hug. Iva went over to him.
“Let’s go, Bill. Let me take you home.” He nodded. I stood and gave him a long hug. All this time my Dad just sat there in his trance. I hugged Iva, the tower of strength that she was at that moment, and she whispered to me that she would be back. Then she and my grandfather left.
My Dad and I sat there not saying anything. At 9:00 visting hours were over, but I knew that didn’t count for us. My Dad rose.
“Well, let’s go home,” he said putting on his coat and touqe. I was startled.
“Go home?” I asked.
“It’s late,” he said. “You’ve had a long day. Let’s go home and get some rest.”
“But Dad, I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here.”
“What? Are you going to stay all night? You can’t stay all night.”
“Well, yes I can,” I felt really irritated. He was going to leave her alone? Just leave her in this antiseptic hospital all alone? To die? I wanted someone to be with her. I didn’t want her to be alone when she died. That seemed wrong. Sad.
Now he seemed irritated. Because I wasn’t doing what he wanted? Or because I was trying to do something he felt physically unable to do? He didn’t look good, but I was sure I didn’t look so hot by now either.
“Look,” he said, “they’re not going to let you stay here all night.”
“Yes they are! One of the nurses already showed me where a sofa was that I could take a nap on if I needed to. She showed me where their little refrigerator is with juices in it. I’m staying here Dad. I’m not leaving Mom alone. Look, why don’t you get some rest and when you come back in the morning I’ll trade off with you. Doesn’t that make sense? Then she won’t be alone.”
He was radiating anger and frustration. Things weren’t going his way. He thought this thing, this suffering and death, was his private deal. Something between him and my Mom; and he wanted to keep the rest of us out. He wanted to tell me it wasn’t any of my business. But of course, he couldn’t. He was stiff when I hugged him and kissed his cheek. He went up to my mother and touched her cheek gently. Then he turned and silently left.
After he left I went up to my mom and climbed on to the edge of her bed with her. “I love you, Mom. I’m here for you. Todd’s coming.” She took a long gasping breath. Her eyelids fluttered. I felt my tears fall from my eyes to her soft, cool cheeks.
~ Missy
Reprinted with Permission
December 20th, 2006 at 5:52 pm
[...] This is a series?about my Mother’s death. This is part six, the final chapter. If you haven’t read them yet, here are parts one, two, three, four, and five.??? [...]