justme2007

Fantastic.

Fantastic.

((( Kimberly ))) I wrestle with my choices with my mom too. When I start down that path though, I stop and tell myself that what's done is done, and the past cannot be changed. I just practice acceptance of the choices I made. It really helps me with peace of mind. When my mom became unconscious and started breathing so heavily (like gasping), I remembered her telling me days before that while she wasn't afraid to die, she was afraid of pain and an uncomfortable death. So when hospice suggested increasing the morphine to calm the breathing (with the doc's okay, obviously), I went with it - - aware of the obvious risks. I gave her her last morphine dose at about 10:45 a.m. and she died minutes later. Did I "cause" or "hasten" her death? Maybe so, but our goal was comfort above all else. I just can't go there, or I'd go biserk. Peace, Beth

"Perhaps they are not stars in the sky, but, rather openings where our loved ones shine down to let us know they are happy." Thought this was neat. It was in a sympathy card I just received. It was attributed to Eskimo legend. Beth

Wendy, I'm sorry you had such a rotten day. We all have "buttons" that people can (unknowingly many times) push. For me the smoking question doesn't come up because often I will volunteer that info about my mom when I talk about her death. Then, I often ask people if they smoke, and if so I ask them, annoyingly I suppose, to please quit. I guess you could say I am on somewhat of an anti-smoking crusade myself now. I mean no offense or disrespect to anyone. While I realize many non-smokers get cancer, and many smokers do not, I believe my mom's smoking certainly didn't help. BUT, that doesn't make her a bad person, deserving of this awful disease. Perhaps if I was a current smoker, I'd be more offended by the question. Smoking is VERY, VERY hard to quit. Doctors compare it to a heroin addiction. Fortunately, I quit two years ago after 23 years of smoking and numerous failed attempts. I don't believe that in any way makes me "better" than smokers though. I think my mom's terrible emphysema scared me into it. I don't take a "holier than thou" position. My position is one of genuine concern - - not wanting people to increase their risk for this disease. My 2 cents. Peace, Beth

Nonni, it will be 11:00 a.m. and 7:00 p.m. on the east coast. See you guys at 10 and 6. Peace, Beth P.S. Ned, good job on remembering the Australian and British folks!

Thank you all. And Nick, that is awesome of you! I appreciate that gesture very much and am touched. That would definitely bring a smile to my mom's face. I know there are many people who will have a new "Paula" plant to adorn their homes. I think I will buy one too this weekend! Maybe an African violet. Purple was her favorite color. Peace, Beth

Shirley, thank you for that! I'm going to print it off and add to my other comforting writings. Peace, Beth

((( Sarah ))) I feel your pain. I bet there are a lot of loving, thoughtful things you DID do for your mother too - - please don't discount those. Our hospice gave us a grieving booklet, and one of the things suggested was journaling. Seems like you've done some here online. I have been afraid to journal because I'm worried I'll float away in a puddle of tears! Peace to you tonight. Beth

Mindy, I'm so sorry to hear about your mom's condition. I, and so many others here, know how you feel because we've been there. Hang in there! We're always here. Beth

My mom loved poetry and literature, and wrote a lot of poetry herself. Here is an untitled poem by Colleen Hitchcock that we found with the other poem in her dresser: And if I go, while you're still here . . . . Know that I still live on, Vibrating to a different measure behind a thin veil you cannot see through. You will not see me, so you must have faith. I wait the time when we can soar together again, both aware of each other. Until then, live your life to the fullest. And when you need me, just whisper my name in your heart, . . . . . . . I will be there. * These poems mean so much to me. I will look at them when I miss my mom.* Beth

[My mother was inurned this morning. The sun was shining very brightly at that time. Now it is overcast. I like to think it was her spirit shining down on us to say hello!] "Death is Nothing At All" I have only slipped away into the next room. I am I, and you are you. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed At the little jokes that we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, Without the ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is this death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, Somewhere very near, Just round the corner. All is well. - Henry Scott Holland (19th century poet)

Randy, very nice idea. Thank you for including my mother on this list. Beth

Oh, okay. Thanks Kasey. Beth

This appeared in my mom's local paper today. I wish I could figure out how to post her picture, but apparently I'm too technically challenged! This is exactly how my mom wanted her obit to appear (without much detail or fanfare). She has a master's degree in English and taught college-bound students at the same high school for 33 years. She read incessantly and was involved in local theater. * * * * * Paula Virlee, 69, Sturgeon Bay, died of cancer at her home Wednesday, Jan. 17, 2007. She was born Nov. 16, 1937, in Marshfield to Harold and Linda (Schmidt) McGrath. She is survived by her husband, Michael; two children, Jeffrey (Maria) Virlee, Neenah, and Beth Virlee, Green Bay; in-laws, Richard (Sharon) Virlee and Janice Virlee, all of Sturgeon Bay; and a grandchild, Stella Virlee, Neenah. Paula requested that there would be no memorial service. She also requested that in lieu of flowers, donors should purchase a plant for their home. Forbes Funeral Home is assisting the family with arrangements. Online condolences may be sent from www.forbesfuneralhome.com

I know this isn't the biggest deal in the world, but I see that I mispoke in my post. When you're talking about an urn, the placement of the urn in a crypt, etc. is called "inurnment." Apparently it's not pc to say "ashes" now either. It's now "cremains." I didn't realize the Catholic Church (my family's religion) started to "permit" cremations in 1963. And then it wasn't until 1997 that the Vatican "allowed" cremains to be present at a funeral mass. The Church does not approve of the proverbial scattering of ashes at sea either. Anyway, just some trivia that probably not many are interested in!

Has anyone read "Embraced by the Light," by Betty Eadie? I highly recommend it, particularly for anyone worried about the death of a loved one and any "afterlife" they may have. When my mom was first diagnosed, a friend bought it for me. Anyway, for those who haven't read it, it's a woman's vivid account of her near-death experience. If true, and I like to think it is, it paints the afterlife as something truly magnificent, beautiful and immeasurably peaceful. The woman describes heaven as being filled with so much love that she was sad when the plan was for her to return to the physical world. I take comfort in the vision the book painted for me about the Heaven I believe my mom is in, and in which I believe we will all be reunited some day.

I'm not sure why, but my mom didn't want a wake or funeral, just a private internment of her ashes for family at our crypt. That's happening Monday a.m. Yesterday we went to pick out the urn. It's a beatiful ceramic one with flowers on it. They still had her body at the funeral home. For some reason I felt compelled to see her again, so they let me. My brother thought that was kind of weird of me, but I couldn't help it. She looks so very peaceful, still in her lavender nightgown. I couldn't not see her, knowing her body was still around. We're having a gathering at my Dad's house Sunday afternoon for her many friends to come. We've gathered a bunch of pictures of her and will display them. When looking through her things, we found a bunch of love letters my dad had written her 42 years ago! That is so sweeet. He didn't know she had saved them. My dad is having a real tough time. It tears my heart out. I hope he will work through some grief at the gathering and after the internment. He does not talk about her very easily. He is so used to taking "direction" from her that he is at such a loss when it comes to making simple decisions. He's been deferring to me, like he always did to her. It feels odd, kind of like I'm stepping in her shoes. He always referred to her as the "boss." He'll get his sea legs in time. I don't know how he's going to do alone though. It worries me greatly.

Teresa, I am so sorry about your dad. He is in such a peaceful, joy-filled place now. I think the same about my mom, who died yesterday. Your dad will be smiling down at you for your wedding, and I'm sure his spirit will be there. Take good care of yourself, Beth

Mom died this morning right after her sponge bath from hospice. I am so grateful I was in the room. I had promised her I'd be with her until the end. It seems like a dream, but I know it's not. Since she is being cremated, we waited for my brother to arrive 2-1/2 hours later before calling the funeral home to remove her body. She died at 10:45 a.m. and we all kissed her for the last time at about 2:30 this afternoon. It was so, so hard watching them take her away. My sweet mother. I felt so much love for her over the past few days. It's a very good feeling to love someone so much and to have the satisfaction of being by her side for the last several days of her life. Now I'm just exhausted. I will look at her picture and take a nap.

I'm so sorry. Please take comfort that your mom will have eternal peace now. Beth

((( ))) Your mom is resting peacefully now. Prayers for her, you and the rest of your family. Beth

Thank you all. Last night was bizarre. She was very agitated and had a feeding frenzy with peanuts, even though she could hardly pick them up and kept missing her mouth. She kept on asking me non-sensical questions until 2 a.m. Her very dry sense of humor has returned with all that pain medication I think, so I've been jokingly calling her Chatty Kathy. At one point, she had pulled her nightgown over her head and was breathing heavily because she had pulled her breathing tube out of her nose (she keeps doing that), and I didn't know about it. So I'm sleeping in her bed now so I have a better chance of being aware of these things as they happen. She's looking forward to her granddaughter coming again today, and a good friend of hers.

My poor mom. She's on a 50 mcg fentanyl patch now, plus occasional liquid morphine and vicodin for breakthrough pain. She can't walk so has a catheter in. This has really gone so fast. The hospice nurse said this morning her guess would be another week to live. I got here last night and am taking off work and staying her with her and my dad to the end. I am doing all I can for her, helping her drink and feeding her grapes and popsicles, sleeping in her room on a hide-a-bed. There's nowhere else I can think of being right now. My poor mom. She is so very thin. Her friends are all coming to visit and crying as they leave. It's hard to watch but beautiful at the same time. We are calling the priest tomorrow for Last Rites (can't remember the current phraseology). When she has the breakthrough pain, she says she wishes "this would all be over." I told her we can talk to the nurse tomorrow about increasing the fentanyl. I also told her it's okay for her to let go when she wants, that we will all be okay. I told her that God will take her when He's ready and she's ready. I really don't want my mom to die, but I just have to live in the moment, not a week from now, or it's too hard. I'm so glad I'm here with her.

Has anyone's loved one been on a fentanyl patch? My mom is going to start on these since she is starting to hurt all over now. In general, I'm concerned because my understanding is that whether fentanyl or morphine, there's respiratory depression. How is that going to work with her severe COPD? I guess the alternative, being in pain, is definitely no good either though. But I have also heard a couple of friends refer to the "fatal" dose of morphine administered to their loved one - - necessary as part of pain management. God, that would just be awful to be a part of that! I suppose I should try to talk to one of the hospice nurses. It's kind of hard not being on site when those folks are around to keep updated on things . . .