Meet Me At Monument Hill

Its over.  Mom passed away last Wednesday, 12/6/06.  Her funeral is in the morning.  I can’t believe it.  I can’t believe it.  Somebody make it all go away. Please!

She must have had another stroke.  Monday morning she couldn’t swallow anymore.  Her neck was stiff.  She couldn’t speak at all.  Her eyes never closed from that point on until her passing Wednesday morning. 

Everyone, including me, says it was a blessing she didn’t linger.  And its true.  I couldn’t have watched her dehydrate and slowly ebb away……..its best she went when she did.  I knew the time was close, just not that close.  I went into her room around 8:00am.  I cheerfully said “Good morning Mama”!  I took one look and I knew.  I touched her face.  It was almost cold.  I touched her chest.  It wasn’t moving.  I lifted the covers.  The Hospice people had said when a person begins to die, their fingernails will start to turn blue.  Moms fingernails were purple and her fingers were turning the same color.  I picked up the phone and dialed my sister.  I said “I think Mom’s gone”.  She got here in no time at all.

She entered the bedroom and began to softly cry.  She put her hand on my shoulder.  I was numb.  I did not cry.

She and another  sister had made funeral arrangements less than a week before.  Everything was paid for in advance.   We called our Hospice nurse.  We called the funeral home.  The man who had made the arrangements was on his way home from another call and was able to come right over.  He sat at the table with us.  We had coffee.  We waited for the nurse.

I went back into the bedroom.  I put my hand on her chest again.  It was still warm.  Her torso was still warm.  But her face was cold.  Her hands and arms were cold.  I began to cry in total disbelief.  The nurse arrived.  She hugged my sister and then me.  She was so sweet.   She talked with us for quite awhile.

Then she and the man went into Mom’s room.  They came out and made preparations …….a path through the house…..out the back door……down the ramp my brother-in-law had built for Mom.  The ramp was going to make it easier for Mom when she left the house.  She only used it twice.  Now it would be used to take her out of her home, out of my life, on a gurney.

That day, two of my sisters, and two niece’s stayed with me.  My sisters began to tie up all the little details there were for the funeral.  In mid afternoon I was elected to drive to another town and order flowers.  I ordered what I wanted.  Money didn’t matter.  You only have one Mother.  She deserves beautiful flowers.

And so, just after dark, everyone left.  They volunteered to stay with me, spend the night.  But I insisted they go and leave me be.  I cried.  I sobbed.  I went to Mom’s room and cradled the sheets she had lain on and died on.  I carefully folded them and put them in a plastic bag.  Then I sealed the bag.  I held her pillows to my face and breathed in her scent.  I took the pillow cases off and folded them, placed them in another plastic bag, and sealed it too.

I went into her bathroom.  There was the washcloth I had used to cool her face.  I folded it.  I opened a cabinet and found her powder and powder puff.  Breathed in the lovely scent, and placed them by the washcloth.  I took her “Carmex” lip balm.  I had been applying it to her lips several times a day.  I took all those items and sealed them in a bag too.  I took everything and put them in her Lane chest.  And there they will stay…….until…….I myself am gone too.

We waited until Monday to have the funeral because I have two sisters from out of state. 

In the morning we will make the hour trip to the town we grew up in.  There will be a private viewing, just for immediate family, before the full Catholic funeral mass.  I am so afraid.  When I see my beloved Mother in that casket…….then her death will be ………too real to take.  I don’t think I can do it.  I’m so afraid.

She will be laid to rest with my Dad and my brother, in the little cemetary west of town. 

Why are cemetaries so peaceful?  They are all so beautiful, in a way.  Beautiful beyond words.

Our little cemetary sleeps in the lap of a big hill.  Monument Hill.                                   God, give me strength.

This entry was posted on Monday, December 11th, 2006 at 12:32 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.