Are You Ready to Put Everything You Own into 2 Boxes and 3 Grocery Bags?

Tags

caregiving, death, life, Love

That my friends, is the question of the day. This morning I helped my mother pack all of the clothes, books, and trinkets that she will be allowed to take with her when we move her to the care home tomorrow. Six pairs of pants, seven shirts, three night shirts, five pairs of socks, two hats, and three pairs of shoes.

Luckily, the care home has this genius thing they have a “memory” box set into the wall just outside the door to mom’s room. In there we can place photographs, and little mementos from her life. The box measures about two and half feet by one and half, with three shelves. Imagine a well-lit medicine cabinet with a glass door. Look around the room you are sitting in, look around your desk, look around your life. Could you fit all the things that are precious to you in a medicine cabinet?

I know that I can’t.

I was putting the books my mother chose to take with her, there are several books of poetry and about ten books that she used when she was a working filed botanist, mostly scientific books with lists of plant names, that she can barely even read any more. As I was packing them, I wondered, if the roles were reversed, which of the five book cases worth of books could I possibly boil down to one box? It makes me so sad to think about it.

No one wants to go to a care home, I have to give my mother a ton of credit for taking it as well as she has. A few days ago we went through the books and her jewelry. We chose her “moving” outfit and packed the shoes. We signed all the paperwork and as much as she was a trooper, I knew the other shoe would drop.

It did. The shoe dropped on New Year’s Eve. Per her request, my husband cooked a whole chicken on the grill, and I did wild rice and sautéed mushrooms. As we waited for my husband to carve the chicken, my mom looked at me and said. “I don’t want to go.”

Then she said, “I know I have to, but I don’t want to leave this place.” What could I say? Nothing. All of the arguments have been made, all the checks have been signed. There was nothing to do but hold her hand as we waited for my husband to join us at the table.

This morning we did some more packing, as tomorrow is the big day. There was one last piece of paper that I saved for this morning; it is the POLST or Physicians Order for Life-Sustaining Treatment. This is the one document you have to have, that if the ambulance is called, they have to obey what is on the paper. My mother agreed that if her heart fails, she does not want to be resuscitated. That she only wants limited interventions for pain and she does not want to be fed by a tube or to be intubated.

Are you ready to make those choices?

My mother is dying. As all of us are dying. It’s just that those of us who are younger think we have years and years to put off these decisions.

That brings me to goal setting. I just read Kristen Lamb’s wonderful post on setting goals. She has been a wonderful mentor during the We Are Not Alone class that I took from her last year. She is the fuel behind this post. I didn’t FEEL like writing about any of this, but I got off my butt and did it. As I read her post she said that baby steps are fine, and in most cases I agree. But the truth is, once my mother moves tomorrow, I will have my freedom back. I am lucky enough that she has been my full time job for the last year. Once she moves, I will be a full-time writer. My husband has graciously agreed to allow me to work full time at my writing, and I am truly blessed.

So here’s the thing. My old life will be over. The life filled with pushing wheelchairs, cleaning up dirty Depends, and cooking three meals a day. It would be so easy to just celebrate and be a lazy bum (okay, I’ve booked myself a day at the spa for Wednesday) But having helped my mother go through all of her possessions and asking all these tough questions about death and dying, I am being given a new life and I refuse to fritter it away.

So, I’m making big goals. I’m going to work out with my trainer two days a week and I’m going to work up to an hour of cardio three times a week. I will revise of “Deadly Hula Hands,” and plan on cranking out 8,000 words a day. Yes, you heard me, 8,000 new words every day. Once the new draft is complete, I’ll spend my time honing, shaping, and re-writing it until it sings. I’ll meet my writers group every two weeks, with new material at each meeting, and I will post material in this blog three times a week. And to top it off, I will be attending at least two big writers conferences this year, Thriller Fest in New York in July, and Bouchercon in September.

Now, with all that said, I’m expecting all of you to check in, and help me stay honest. You are a wonderful, wonderful audience, and I look forward to a New Year, that’s filled with life and love, with a hint of Death’s kiss that makes each waking moment richer and fuller.  You guys are the best!

 

 

Why We Need to Talk about Death and Dying

Tags

death, dying, Love

a rose is a rose, is a rose

Cheerful topic, Yes? No? Halloween is really over. Some of you might have heard but I had some sudden news; that while I was in Houston, basking in the glow of Story Masters and the font of all knowledge, back in San Diego my dear half-sister Patty, died. She had been dealing with cancer for over eight years. I got word from my other sister, Betty who told me that when Patty found out that both Chemo and Radiation were no longer working, that the cancer had metastasized to too many places in her body, she decided to stop taking any medication. She got together with her children, put all of her financial affairs in order, contacted Hospice and let nature take its course. What a truly brave woman.

We need to talk about death and dying because as a culture and a country we waste so much money and effort in the Cult of Denying Death. I’m sure somewhere in hospital beds across the country, there are older Americans whose bodies are being kept alive by machines, at the insistence of children, wracked with guilt, who want the doctors to do everything they can to keep grandma or grandpa alive. It saddens me because that doesn’t have to happen. There are so many tools available for us so we won’t have to be a burden to our loved ones. Do you have a will? If not, write one. Do you have an Advanced Health Care Directive, also known as a Living Will? That is the legal document that tells your doctor, your family, how you want to spend your last days. You can ask that the doctors do every heroic measure you can think of to keep you going. Or, you can say “no thanks” and be brave live my sister and trust that nature’s course is the right one. Look into Hospice care; find out what your options are.

I’m taking the time to write about this because I’ve seen death done, how I consider the correct way: where you decide ahead of time how you want it handled. And I’ve seen it bungled, where grief-stricken, shocked family members find themselves having to make decisions that no one should have to make. Trust me, you don’t want to inflict this kind of pain and heartache on the ones you love.

It is the season for it, with autumn and shorter days, as we prepare for winter, it is a time when many people chose to let go. My father died on November 10, 2002. Now might not seem like it, but why not use it as an opportunity to to talk about dying. Today is Veteran’s Day, when we remember veterans who gave their lives willingly for us, why not ask the question: how do you want to die? When the time comes, I want to die sitting on a bench looking at a garden. I realize it doesn’t have to be my own garden, but any garden. Any place where green things grow and thrive, where they are well taken care of.

Turn to the one you love and tell them that you are going to be there for them, to change their diaper and spoon feed them if you have to. That you are in this relationship for the truly long haul. It might make you feel weepy, but really, isn’t that what love is all about? That you are willing to do whatever it takes to make your loved one’s death as smooth, easy, gentle and loving as best you can? And be brave enough to ask them to do the same for you. If you can do that, then your relationship will grow richer, and be fuller.

I was honored enough to be at my father’s bedside when he took his last breath. I had my hand on his chest and felt his last heartbeat. It was, and still remains one of the most treasured moments of my life on this planet. It was transcendent of any other experience I have ever had. I treasure my father for the life he gave me and for the blessings of a most gentle, peaceful death. That’s what I want for my end.

Yes, it sucks to think of death, it’s sad, it often feels like such a waste. But we owe it to ourselves and the ones we love to be honest about this most natural of acts. After my father died, a close family friend said I ought to write “Death and Dying for Dummies” as there is no handbook for this sort of thing. My advice is that we spend so much time figuring out how to live life to the fullest, we ought to give our death a little bit of attention, and in doing so, life becomes so much sweeter.

Thank you all for dropping by and indulging me. What do you worry about the most when you think of your last days? I’d like to hear from you, as the more we feel comfortable talking about, I do believe we will be better off as a community.