They have been slightly edited for some grammatical
corrections and thought clarifications,
but largely reflect my actual thoughts and feelings at the time.
It is my deepest hope that these words will provide comfort and strength
to someone who may be facing a similar situation regarding a loved one.
Everything I believe tells me that life in this universe is only a very small part of infinity. The years we spend in our physical bodies, however many they are, are as nothing compared to the boundlessness of eternity. As my brother Paul said of Dr. Deepak Chopra, M.D., "We may think we are HUMAN beings having spiritual experiences, but in reality we are SPIRITUAL beings having a human experience!". I believe in my heart that this must be true. As a scientist, I can offer no empirical proof of this, yet I believe it as fundamentally as I believe in the Laws of Physics. If there were nothing more than our limited physical lifespans, there would be neither conscience nor morality. There would be nothing to prevent us from acting like animals.
It is a testament to human intellect and nobility that we are capable of self-awareness. This says something about our belief in a cause that is higher than ourselves. So far as we know, humans are the only creatures in the physical universe that are capable of such transcendent thoughts. In my opinion, human beings have no choice BUT to believe in a Divine Creator. Human intellect is enough to tell us that we were not responsible for the creation of the physical universe, that it was here long before we were born, and that life itself will not cease with our passing from it. Almost contradictorily then, faith comes from intellect. It is this faith which springs from intellect which finds expression in the different religions of the world. It is our faith then, whether Mormon or Catholic or whatever, which we must draw strength from to see us through these difficult times. Belief in a continued existence beyond this physical universe is what makes pain and suffering easier to bear. Even when I had fallen away from the Catholic Church and into other things, I was still a believer in this basic truth.
What prompts me to write these words is the fact that my mother is very sick. She has been diagnosed with lung cancer, and is currently on a respirator in the ICU of St. Anthony's Hospital on OKC. Every time my father and brother and I go to visit her, it tears us up. It is heart-wrenching to see the one who brought my brothers and I into this world hooked up to machines with tubes sticking out of her. One of the hardest things in life is to watch your parents die, while you are helpless to do anything about it. I know from previous conversations with her, that she would prefer not to be kept alive by mechanical means. This is the choice we are facing, but it is really no choice at all. We hope to find out from the doctor tomorrow whether some kind of treatment is possible which may improve her quality of life. If there is not, we feel that there is no need to prolong her suffering any longer than necessary. We are all experiencing pain and anguish when we visit her. This afternoon, she seemed to be pleading to us with her eyes to end it all. It was more than any of us could bear.
This is not the way I wish to remember her, nor shall it be. I shall remember a feisty dynamo of a woman who was quite capable of kicking my butt on many occasions. I like to think of her as a 6' 9" spirit trapped in a 4' 9" body. She was often fond of saying, "You may be taller than me, but you'll never be BIGGER than me!". I shall remember a warm, caring person who would do and has done anything for the sake of her children. Mom was a person who never met a stranger, she could strike up a conversation with anybody about anything. I can recall many conversations with and letters to her talking about life, career plans, and what not. She always encouraged me to do and to be whatever I wanted with my life, so long as I was the best I could be at whatever I chose to do. I can only hope that my actions from now on would make her proud of me.
Part of what I am feeling is guilt and part is selfishness. The guilt comes from asking myself if there was anything that I could honestly have done to get her to stop smoking cigarettes. I am still wrestling with that one, but the conclusion would seem to be that we can only be responsible for our OWN actions. The selfishness comes from wanting my mom to see me get my Ph.D., eventually get married, and possibly have her grandchildren. What we must be mindful of, however, is what is best for her. We do not wish to see her dependent upon machines indefinitely with no hope of recovery. We all agree that, although we do not have it in writing, this is HER wish also. If it is indeed her time to pass beyond this life, all I can hope for is to ease her suffering, to assure her that we will always love her, that she will always be with us in our hearts, and that she is surely moving on to a much better place where the failings of her mortal shell shall be lifted. Surely she has many other loved ones waiting for her on the other side, including more children than any parent should ever have had to bury.
I resolve to do many things to honor my mother's memory. The first is to buy a piece of ornamental spun glass on her birthday and/or Christmas every year. The second is to think of her whenever I take a deep breath. The third is to continue to practice Proper Food Combining and to exercise regularly in the hope of maintaining my own health for the sake of MY children. The fourth, and probably the most difficult, is to resolve to be more outgoing with people, which was always so natural to her and is to my brothers Paul and Michael. The fifth is to take the time to take care of the little necessities of life when necessary, and to put things in their proper place when I am done with them. This includes closing drawers and cabinet doors, and paying bills on time. These are all simple things really, most of which she has told me to do to some degree at one time or another. If I can do all of these things regularly, then she WILL truly live forever in my heart.
We went in early to see Mom today after getting a call from Doctor Marion. Apparently, Mom took Peggy's advice to heart. They had sedated her to place an IV line in a main artery, having run out of secondary places to stick her with it. From the moment we saw her today, she was out of it completely. We could get no response at all from her, her heart rate was way up, and we knew that it would not be long. Dad, Paul and I went down to the chapel and said a pray for her and for us. We asked Jesus to be with her and to take her back home with Him. This gave me much comfort and strength as we sat there supporting each other in His Presence. We joined Father Joe Vas in saying a prayer over her, asking Jesus to look with favor on His beloved daughter and to guide her and comfort us during our separation. We finally caught up to Dr. Marion after noon and he said that her blood pressure was falling steadily. We could tell this because her hands and feet were getting cold. He said that it would probably be more traumatic to remove the tubes at this point, but that it would probably not be long for her heart to give out on her own.
At this point Peggy had joined us and Mike and Sherry were on their way from New Jersey. We continued to grieve and to pray over her, assuring her that we would always love her and take care of each other as a family. I could definitely sense that she was no longer with us after we got back from the chapel, yet they were still drawing fluids for tests as the machine kept her breathing. All that was left to do was to wait. We went down to the cafeteria for a late lunch. When Dad and I came back, we noticed her heart rate had fallen significantly. The nurse said it would not be long now. Paul and Peggy joined us as we watched over her, praying and grieving each in our own way but together as a family as we watched her heart rate fade away. We assured her that Jesus would be with her and not to worry about anything here, that we would always be here for each other and would look forward to the day when we would join her in Paradise. When her heart ceased around 2:05 PM CST, the finality of the moment weighed heavily upon us all. She had been gone long before her heart stopped, and I knew that Jesus had already taken her home then.
The nurse took us to the Family Room to give us a private place to grieve. Paul said a prayer as well as he was able to and we all sat holding each other's hands in silence. I was filled with an assurance that there was no need to fear, and I tried to hold on to it as best I could. It is hard to let go of the one who brought you into this world, but it is an inevitability of life. I am sure that it was no easier for her to say goodbye to any of the children that preceded her. We all drew strength from the belief that surely all of her lost children were there waiting for her, as well as other loved ones like Grandma Richichi and Uncle Pete Mammano. When they had gotten all of the tubes out of her, we came back in for a final farewell. We said our goodbyes to her body, but we knew that her essential self, her spirit, was already in a much better place. In this respect, I am happy for her, knowing that the failings of her worn out and aging body will no longer trouble her. I am saddened to know that we will no longer be able to directly interact with her, but I draw comfort from the fact that I have taken her into my heart and will keep her best qualities alive in me. I am also reminded that although we will not meet again until it is MY turn to pass from this mortal coil, whether that be five minutes or fifty years from now, it is as but an eyeblink in the face of eternity.
Thursday we went to the cemetery and picked out a lot for the casket. Dad was pretty flustered and could not commit to another lot for himself, but I certainly can't blame him. We met with Fr. Flusche and discussed the mass for Friday. I told him that I wanted to hear "Be Not Afraid" and "On Eagle's Wings". We also agreed on "Prayer of St. Francis" and "Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow". These are some of my favorite hymns and I will be glad to think of Mom whenever I hear them. Throughout all of this, there have been plenty of gifts of food. Linda Christie had come by with a Sympathy Card signed by people from the OU Physics and Astronomy Office and a card for a donation in Mom's name to St. Jude's Childrens Hospital in OKC.
I am especially grateful to Bonnie and Berlin Genetti, Paul's friends from his church whom I have gotten to know pretty well. I will also be eternally grateful to Susan Stagg, whom I had just met when Mom went into the hospital a week earlier, but who has been a great source of strength and comfort to me. GOD must have brought her into my life at that moment for just that purpose, and I will always have a special place in my heart just for her. I cannot imagine having to go through this experience alone. Thankfully, I did not have to.
After eating heaps of lasagna and salad, we had the wake at 7 PM Thursday in the Mayes Chapel. I was gladdened by the number of people who came, especially all the Knights of Columbus from other Councils. We sat with each other for a while. Joanne finally broke down, so we comforted her as best we could. The reality of it all had finally hit her. We took her out later that evening for a new dress and shoes, and this calmed her down some. Inside the casket we placed some of Mom's favorite things: a TV remote control, a Coke bottle from North Dakota, some pieces of ornamental spun glass, a KOC nametag, and Dad's air force wings and FAA tiepin. It was very therapeutic for us. It was a very tangible way for us to say goodbye and to acknowledge the life she led.
We met at Mayes at 10:30 AM on Friday for a final viewing before closing the casket. Nephew Michael and Niece Heather took it hard, but we were there for them. Dad and I watched them seal the casket and we drove in the family car for the funeral. We entered the church and began the service. The music and the ceremony were very uplifting for me, as I hope they were for Dad and Aunt Fay. Paul managed to be able to say a few words about how nobody in Oklahoma ever really knew Mom, since she was never the same after her brain surgery for treatment of an aneurysm. Actually, we have been very lucky to have had her for the last thirteen years, and I am grateful to GOD for the remaining time he gave us with her. I was definitely not prepared to lose her back then, and GOD chose to give her back to us for a time. We just have to remember that Jesus is taking care of her now better than we could here on Earth and that wherever she is, it is a place that harbors neither sadness nor pain.
On the way to the cemetery, the finality of it all began to sink in. The pall bearers (Dale Swaim, Garnett and Sharon Beadle, Tom Burke, and Mike & Sherry) placed the casket upon the gravesite and Fr. Flusche performed the final commissioning of the body and handed the crucifix that he had placed upon the casket to Dad. It is now hanging on the wall of his house. There was nothing left to do but share our moment of grief with each other as best we could. We each placed a yellow rose, Mom's favorite, on the casket as a final farewell. I thanked the pall bearers and guests as best I could for their support and comfort. We returned to the R. E. building for a luncheon provided by St. Joseph's Funeral Board.
Aunt Fay took us all out to dinner as is customary in Brooklyn. We went to Legend's, which was one of Mom's favorite restaurants in Norman. She ordered Mom a strawberry daiquiri and placed it next to the picture of her that we had brought. After dinner, we returned home to the myriad of desserts that we had gathered. We spent the evening looking at old family pictures and reminiscing about Mom.
It is amazing how quickly this all happened, yet in some ways it will never be over. Every once in a while my eyes still well up with tears and they probably will for quite some time. Mostly, I am sad for Aunt Fay and for Dad, who seem to be taking it pretty hard. I think Aunt Fay has come to terms with it, but it can't be easy to have to bury your baby sister whom you raised from a teenager. The jury is still out on Dad. I hope that he can accept that it was for the best, however hollow that may sound.
I can recall my most recent conversations with Mom and I wish I had paid more attention to her at the time. She was convinced that she was dying and we did not know what to say to her about it. Apparently she had been suffering for quite some time before admitting it to any of us. She had long ago convinced herself that she would die of lung cancer and so her mind set about making it happen to her body. Funny how that works. The one thing that I must be grateful for, no matter how much it hurts that her body is gone, is that she suffered no longer than she had to and that she (and we) did not later find herself in a position to be more infirm than she already was. I am grateful that GOD chose to call her home and did not prolong her suffering to the point where she would have needed constant medical care, or worse where we were put into a position where we had to choose to take action to end her life ourselves.