Sunday, April 26, 2015

Life, Death and Frank Sinatra

What The Fuck!  An unusual way to begin I guess, but that is what I have been saying to my self for the last few weeks.                                                                                                         My mom died.                                                                                                                     Same number of words in the sentence, all one syllable words....but the what the fuck sentence  is easier to say and makes way more sense to me.  After the incredible,happy ending,"Lifetime-movie" like story of my baby granddaughter's open heart surgery (how's that for a sentence), I came back to "earth" and immediately had to deal with my mom who had been in one hospital the entire time I was at the other hospital. I went to see her the very next day and she looked awful, she could barley comprehend the good news of her great granddaughter's amazing comeback!  I thought my head was going to explode- it was the emotional equivalence  of jumping in a cold pool after being in a hot tub! So I strapped myself in for what I knew was going to be a very bumpy ride.  I longed for the days when I would  stand next to the "you must be this tall to ride this ride" signs at Crystal Beach and would get turned away. " I'm too short to handle all this" I kept thinking.- no such luck though.                                                                                                                     The doctor called us in for what was to the the first of two or three meetings....you know that meeting.  But, she rallied - for what ever reason, she did.  She was sitting up, eating an Italian ice, flirting with the doctor. Later, at the last meeting with her doctor, I realized this guys kind of looks like Frank Sinatra- that older, gray comb over version of old blue eyes!     My mom LOVED Frank Sinatra, but more than that she loved blue eyes!!!  Her beloved brother has blue eyes. She talked about it all the time- she felt inferior I think for being brown eyed.  As did I (for a while) growing up-because she as did her mom and aunt made such a fuss over her brother's genetic luck of the draw. But I love my eyes- I have been told they are one of my best features...if you look up from my other best feature- (my smile- you pervs) When I met my husbands blue/green eyed family- I felt exotic and mysterious  almost with my brown eyes that no one else in that family had at the time- Then I had two girls with sparkling brow eyes and so far, two beautiful brown eyed grandchildren, By the way, my son's eyes are not blue, but gorgeous green, close enough and I always suspected that's why he was my mom's favorite.                                                                                                But back to  Dr.Sinatra -we had a meeting where we decided to take her off of everything because although the cancer numbers were down-she was not bouncing back. Do you bounce back when you're 80?  Maybe ...maybe not  but she seemed okay with the decision-maybe relieved. He told her if she eats (and she could have what ever she wanted- finally no dietary restrictions)  she may be okay for a while. So off he went like a Stranger in the Night and we went home feeling confused  but secure that we were doing the right thing for her.

The next day I went to join my dad to meet with the Hospice people in the new room where I assumed I would be spending the remained of my spring break and then some. We can bring her all her favorite foods and play some music (you know who) and maybe have the babies come in for a visit.  Never got the chance.  I walked in and she was (what I now know) "dying" - I have never seen anything like it- the night before she was sitting up -now lying in bed in such distress- labored breathing, moaning and it was just the worst thing to see-  the worst.....What The Fuck.   I asked the nurses what did they give or not give her to cause such a drastic change. They said noting- they just moved her- I said move her the fuck back then.  
The Hospice social worker said it is common for people to just decide to stop fighting for what ever reason.. Maybe talking about taking off all the stuff was enough for her to let go.  I know though, in my heart, she was waiting to see her brother's blue eyes one last time.  He came to see her the night before she was moved- I think that is what she needed to see before she was able to stop her two year fight with this awful disease.                                 I
'm so glad I got to say good bye that night - I didn't know it was the last, real good bye- but when that phone rang later that April night I knew.....                                                               Right now it may not seem like spring at all we're drifting and the laughs are few  Thank you Mr Sinatra, that about says it all.                                       So  then came the "am I in a movie" days of planning your mother's funeral.  What the Fuck! We were going to sit and talk about it as Hospice suggested, but we didn't get the chance.Those Hospice people are amazing but I think I horrified the poor social worker when she was trying to do her job by comforting me. The baby' heart ordeal came up as we were talking about how long my mom had been in the hospital....White as a ghost, she kept saying "tell me you have a third...tell me you have a third" ....I was all  "ummmm, welllll- hmmm, oh yeah, my husband had cancer a couple years ago?"   Hoping that would make her feel better-(role reversal much)  Oh good she said all relieved "they come in three's you know  and  it looks like you're done"...Can I have that in writing and notarized please? 

The wake was filled with family, friends and Frank as his music played in the background. It is amazing how many lives someone touches- it's exhautingly overwhelming! Although, I found it funny how the people you least expect are there for you and the ones you did expect immediately rise to the top of your asshole list.                                                           It's still pretty much a blur-but we got through it. I am extremely proud of my family and I know she would have been too. Her grandsons did readings and her granddaugther, my daughter gave the eulogy. I think we did it Her Way!  

And now what? well-it's good to be busy because those silent times  the wee small hours of the morning is the time I miss her most of all- Boy Frank- you are writing this blog for me!  I have to say we have already had "visits". One of her favorite songs Smile came on the night she died-you know smile-though your heart is aching-  I don't know what was on tv or what time it was or maybe it was a dream, but I feel like it was her reminding me that it's the time you must keep on trying, smile what's the use in crying, you'll find that life is still worthwhile if you just smile.  I hear you mom,  loud and clear- it wasn't Frank but I got the message- and that is what I intend to do.                  

 I am so glad that she is not in any more pain and is not tired anymore.  I miss her, but I miss the old her who I haven't seen for so long.   But I know she is watching us...both my daughters have said that on two separate occasions, their bedrooms were filled with the aroma of sauce and meatballs- well, that would be her!  I know she will be with us at our family gatherings and will be watching her great grandchildren grow!  That is if she is not too busy stalking Frank Sinatra in heaven...would he be there- wasn't he kind of a gangster? Anyway, I will keep looking for signs- when a butterfly lands at just the right moment, when a song or a favorite old movie (An Affair to Remember)  comes on just when I need it or when your picture falls on the floor as it did on the day of her wake. Or on the days when I'm awfully low, when the world is cold- I will feel the glow, just thinking of you   ... I love you Mom- and that's coming from ol' brown eyes...and as for the What The Fuck....I think she would approve....just sayin'