There will never be another relationship that matches the one between my Mom and me. 11 years ago this week my family was gathered by her hospital bed to decide whether to take her off life support. How do I explain those 12 days leading up to determining what was best?
I want to talk about that last day because as sad as it was—it was the joy and love that I remember most. My Mom had been sick for awhile but we did not realize just how sick. She had an obstructed bowel and we will never know how long she lived with the terrible pain because she always seemed to just accept pain as part of her life and rarely complained.
Thanksgiving 2002 is one I almost missed. My relationship with my dad was difficult. I just could not tolerate his rudeness so I had decided to skip Thanksgiving this year (to tell you how difficult things were I had only missed one Thanksgiving in 47 years and that was because I was stuck in Michigan. I hated to miss that day with my family).
My Mom called and said I needed to come home; she needed a good laugh (no this was not an insult). I had no ride and I was an hour away so she said to bring my friend Helen too, there was plenty of room and food. At the last minute, Helen decided to just drop me off and come back Saturday to bring me home. Turned out this was how it was supposed to be.
I do know that on Thanksgiving Day, I came home for dinner and saw my mother had aged since I last saw her 3 months ago. I hugged her and said she sure looked a lot like Grandpa now (her Dad) and she held me a moment longer and said “I do and remember your promise to him.” I did not know what she meant at that moment but I would soon learn.
She was very weak and seemed in pain but she wanted a celebration with laughter so that is what we had. After dinner we watched some family videos and I narrated. I had my Mom laughing so hard she told me it was hurting her (it was more than laughing that was causing her so much pain) but she was so happy. We then played some games which was actually my mother’s favorite part of any family gathering. 
I was so grateful to have those 3 days in Auburn. I went to meet my Mom at the mall on Black Friday—the one and only time I have ever ventured to a shopping center on that day. She was in good spirits and was so excited because she found this great sweater for my dad and only had one more gift to buy. (here I have to share with you all—my Mom loved Christmas. She would start shopping the day after the previous Christmas and for the next 12 months gather the perfect gifts for all 7 kids, 16 grandkids and great grandchild, not to mention spouses). She wrapped the most beautiful gifts and you hated to spoil them by opening them.
But 2002 would be different. The Sunday after Thanksgiving my Mom had to go to the Emergency Room because the pain in her stomach was worse. By Tuesday things had escalated so badly she was taken by ambulance to Syracuse where she was rushed into surgery. I arrived after she went into the operating room and as a result was to never speak to my mother again.
She never woke from that operation. The next 12 days were spent listening to doctors try to convince us she would eventually recover but…..It was the But that would have bothered my Mom. No matter what the doctors said, what we witnessed contradicted them. She had so many complications and had to be put on dialysis and intubated. She would have hated all that was done to keep her alive.
When you have 8 family members trying to come to the same conclusion which was to let her go, let’s just say these were tense, tearful days. The ultimate decision lay with my father and of course he was the last to accept that she was ready to go. Finally, on Sunday December 15th, everyone acknowledged the inevitable, that she was not going to recover. We must honor her wish not to be on life support.
I am writing this as if the whole process were simple and matter of fact but believe me, it was not. There was drama and arguments and changing of minds but the decision was not really ours. My mother had made her feelings and fears known for many years and we owed it to her to honor them.
The moment is etched in my heart forever. Of course I agonized over what was best but for whom? Was it my feeling that prevented me from totally accepting and arguing with God, then bargaining and finally screaming please don’t take my mother. But that was my heart talking, my head always knew and never once doubted how best to honor her wish.
They took her off the machines and we all expected she would pass quickly. But that was not the case. Instead her heart beat stronger and she lingered. For 3 hours we rallied around her bedside, children, sisters and husband. Finally, I felt something was not right so I went off to the chapel downstairs. I spoke with one of the nuns there and told her what was going on. As we talked it dawned on me just what was wrong.
I went back up and told my family that Mom did not recognize this group of bawling fools (maybe not that harsh). Instead she would be expecting laughter and even songs. So rather than sadly wait for that final moment we started sharing funny family stories. The most ridiculous ones were about my brother Kevin who was always having a silly mishap. Then we started singing her favorite songs, You are my sunshine and Sukiyaki . Twenty minutes later she quietly left us. I believe with all my heart she just needed to feel at peace before she could leave her family.
The next few days went by in a tearful blur. The funeral arrangements; we kids being her pallbearers, all the pomp and circumstance she really believed should accommodate a death.
But now, finally, let me tell you all who my mother truly was. When we finally laid her to rest and I went back to my parents home to stay for a few days I discovered what our “Santa” (she had always signed all our gifts as Santa) had there for us all. In her bedroom were stacks of presents, all paper coded for each of the 7 families. Even though there were days she could hardly stand, she had a deadline and she met it with her usual flair. You see, my Mom knew she was dying and she was leaving us one last Christmas with our beautifully wrapped gifts from our beloved “Santa”.
*The Santa picture was handpainted by my Mom and we have had it in our home for as long as I can remember–she was very talented.MY sister Nan made us each a framed copy.
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