So,...my Mom and I were with Dad when he took he last two breaths.

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

She reacted, "I thought I had more time". I said to Dad, "It's okay. I love you."

I love my Mom, so much,...but, she is so confusing because, in spite of what's happening before her eyes, she lives in a different world. She has this uncanny ability to 'love' while belittling, simultaneously. I know she doesn't do this, on purpose.

After the funeral, she said to me, "Thank you for taking such great care of your Dad." I told her, "Mom,...I have told you over and over, again,...Daddy had all the care he could possibly ask for,...you were caring for him. I was there for YOU!"

I watched her practically kill herself to care for him and keep him alive even though he had no life, no control over his life.

My Dad,...is finally at peace. He no longer has to fight brain cancer. He had the most miserable existence for the last three months of his life, fighting "FIGHTING" just to sit up to eat. He couldn't get up by himself. He couldn't go to the bathroom on a potty. He couldn't put on a shirt or socks. He couldn't tell whether it was day or night. He couldn't figure how he felt,...about ANYTHING: pain or comfort, people present or absent, bladder movements,...

:cry:

A part of me admires both of them for fighting for every breath,...even the last two,...to live a bit longer.

:cry:

A part of me angers at their mutual effort to prolong suffering,...FOR WHAT? :cry:

The minute I believe I grasp an understanding of that mutual promotion of suffering,...it escapes me, completely.

I've expressly informed EVERYONE I love and know that,...I want them to let me go when I can no longer take charge of either my mind or body. My Dad's illness and my Mom's response drew a slew of people into suffering. I don't want to draw people into suffering,...not in my life. There is enough of that IMHO.

But, what do I know? Maybe, people NEED to suffer,...in order to FEEL ALIVE.

All I know is that there are people in this world who do not give a damn about inflicting suffering on the backs of innocent people.

I'm,...struggling,...to,...do the impossible: reconcile the aweful human dichotomy in which I live.

:rofl: Like THAT is possible.

I get so pissed off at the simplicity proffered by those who most profit from our common existence of uncertainty.

BLAH! Just ignore me.

[Tuesday Afternoon]

1. believe me, I understand

:hug:

[Haole Girl]

2. Sorry for your loss

I know you said "just ignore me," but I still feel like you could use a hug. So here... :hug:

[Tikki]

3. You are a strong person....

and I hear you....

:hug:


Tikki

[femmocrat]

4. I know what you went through. I do.

You have my sincerest sympathy. You have been through a terrible ordeal. Be kind to yourself and try not to "blame" anyone. You still have to take care of your mom. Your dad is at peace but you and your mom are not (yet).

:hug: Keeping you and your family in my thoughts and prayers.

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

7. I guess my struggle has been,...how to bring her peace,...

,...as IF I could.

:shrug:

:hug:

Honestly, I never pretended to have things "figured" out in spite of all the education and exposure and whatnot.

BUT,...I've never worked SO HARD at trying to "figure" the journey my dying Dad and suffering Mom presented to my life. I mean, after months of literally splitting my life between my family and being present for my parents, I followed up on my 'threat' to my Mom to call 911 because it was THAT BAD. He died less than three days later.

I'm having trouble working out,...how my Mom,...hell, my whole family,...ignored a crisis at my Dad's behest,...at his suffering.

But, he's okay, now.

The family that would cling to each stage of his suffering, calling every single day,...is no longer calling.

Explain that. Does that make sense?

[calimary]

19. That's a hard one. I went through it with both parents and my mother-in-law.

We had to put a pet to sleep recently, and mentally I went directly to the "WHY can't we do that for the people we love, as well as the animals, to end their suffering and allow them a peaceful, dignified, and NOT long-and-dragged-out exit?"

My parents, in turn, and my mother-in-law, went down long, slow, and hard. Lots of pain. Lots of longing for release. My mother said - about my dad and then a few years later about herself - "this isn't living. This isn't living." And it wasn't. When they're as helpless and dependent as a newborn. When they can't do the simplest little things for themselves. When the light's on inside but the body's just barely there, or in my mother-in-law's case, her mind was long gone but her body limped on with increasing sickness, pain, and disability. None of them deserved that. My dad wanted out so badly he almost pulled apart the ties that were keeping him bound to his bed when they'd put him on a respirator (they tie your hands down so you don't try to pull the tube out). It was AWFUL. The only (HAH! "ONLY"!) even marginally merciful part of that kind of ordeal is how it seems to enable at least some of us to say goodbye more easily. I was so glad to see all of them released from that when they each died. Even so, it still means the dying have to deal with that agony, minute-by-minute. It was Simply Horrible. So bad I wouldn't even wish that kind of end on george w. bush or dick cheney.

And family members were - well, some of them were really wonderful and others - meh.

This kind of thing brings out the best AND the worst in everybody.

Go figure. Human foibles. My asshole brother-in-law didn't even bother to come to his mom's funeral. And we'd rescheduled it so he'd be able to make it. And he never even showed up. I'd call him a World-Class SOB if I didn't like my late mother-in-law so much. She was a sweetie. He shoulda been there. NO excuses. God - not to show up at your own mother's funeral. Astonishing!

My sympathies, dear sicksicksick_N_tired. I guess you take what comfort you can, in circumstances like these, in the knowing that your dad isn't suffering anymore. Sigh... I almost hate even saying that. It sounds so trite. And sometimes trite is all we have.

:hug:

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

24. I try to find some way to express my appreciation for your sharing yourself,...

,...and I just can't do it.

:shrug:

I tried to bring something more to what you shared with me,...

What you posted isn't "trite",...

I am HAPPY for my Dad,...that he is free from suffering. After literally splitting up my life to care for my Mom as she cared for my Dad who was in a state of aweful pergatory/suffering, I felt relieved, as he must have, to end that weird nonesensical battle.

The night before I FORCED MY MOM to take him to the hospital (*grin* by calling 911), my Dad was yelling for his brothers and sisters and half his body was off the bed. I hugged him and told him I wanted to get him comfortable so he could sleep,...that, it was 2:30 in the morning and he needed to sleep. I lugged his legs back onto to the bed, pushed his hips towards the middle and asked him to grab my neck to get him situatated.

He grabbed my neck,...and held on,...fastly. It kind of spooked me.

I hugged him and said, "Daddy,...you can let go, now."

He didn't. He held me, fastly.

I got kinda' scared then repeated, "Daddy, you can let go now. I've got you in the bed and you can sleep."

He let go.

I worked to get him as comfortable as possible via the position of his head and body,...and blankets.

For the first time, he stayed in a position and slept. Mom said she found him, there, in the position I put him.

The following morning I told him, "I am calling 911 to get you in a hospital and get you relief." He said he wanted to kick my brothers' ass for calling doctors. I asked, "why"? He said, "I'm mad at you for calling hospitals". I told him I just wanted to relieve him, make him feel better.

I asked him if I told him, "I love you," today. He said, "Yes."

The last words he said to me was, "I love you, too."

Honestly, as weird as it may sound, I have no right to mourn my Dad's passing. He did everything possible to provide for his family. That's enough. He fought to live long enough to be with family over the Memorial Day weekend (although, he was practically dead, already). That's enough. He ALWAYS responded to my "I Love YOU" with "I Love YOU". That's enough.

He would prefer I cling to the Love and attached joy, rather than sink in the death of his body, the absolute LEAST of himself and, frankly, anything of priceless value.

[calimary]

30. It's just one of those things we all have to go through, seems to me. You should

go easy on yourself about this, if you can. Because YOU TOO did everything possible to help, comfort, and care for both him and your mom.

Can we talk about denial? My mother was the EMPRESS of it. I remember how, when my dad was moved way down the hall in ICU (to the last room at the end, far away from the nurses' station - where he HAD been directly in front where they could monitor him and eyeball him constantly), I knew it was the end. They sort of filed him away in the far drawer. I knew it. Yet my mom would be there - usually we came together because she liked for me to drive her down there every day - and I remember how she lifted the sheet and blanket off his feet, which were usually a sickish color of purplish maroon by then. Late onset diabetes that he did NOT take care of, and his legs were basically dead (I suspect that about a year earlier, one of the many doctors he had finally told him those legs had to come off because the circulation was long gone - and knowing him, he kept that from everybody and just utterly refused it). And when my mom lifted the blanket off his legs, perhaps because he'd been laying down for so long and no gravity was working on his legs so the blood didn't well up inside them, the color of his skin was a normal flesh-tone. She looked at me and nodded as if she saw something that impressed and encouraged her. I didn't have the heart to tell her - "Mom, stop kidding yourself! He's NOT getting better!!! His legs are NOT getting better!!!" It was so sad, and irritating, and frustrating, and I sure didn't know how to deal with it too well. Hell, anything I would have said would have gone in one of her ears and directly out her other ear. She just would not have taken delivery on it. She was like that all her life with him. Just Would Not See some of the stuff that was smacking everyone else around her full in the face.

Oh well...

It took forever for her to accept some things toward the end. She was ADAMANTLY against having him placed in a hospice or nursing home at the end. But his doctor told me that, if he'd lived through that last hospitalization, he was so far gone that he'd HAVE TO be institutionalized. The doctor said there would have been no other way and he would have insisted on it. I'm glad we never reached the point with my dad where we had to face that choice. It would have been sheer hell. My mother would have fought it - HARD. She just wasn't willing to accept it. We'd hired caregivers to assist us around the clock with him so he could stay in his apartment and wouldn't have to be moved to some home. Needless to say, he did not survive that last hospital stay. And I was relieved by that, because the follow-up agony and sturm-und-drang would have just been beyond imagining. And I would have been the heartless bad guy, of course. My aunt even had called my mom to urge her to have Dad placed in a home in the last days, even pleading with her, if she couldn't make that decision for him, to let me do it. She was the only extended family member at that level of seniority who stood by me and gave me moral support.

My mother was grimly determined to take care of him til after the bitter end. She was, herself, a small, fine-boned little old lady who could barely open a jar by herself. I'm not sure it even opened her eyes on that awful day when she called me up in desperation - "honey, you've got to come over right now! I can't get your father off the toilet!" Of course she couldn't! He was 200-or-so pounds of absolutely dead weight (his legs were dead, he couldn't stand up by himself anymore, they just wouldn't hold him up). And it took both of us, because I couldn't lift him alone either. Hell, there was one time when I even kinda dropped him - trying to help him up from his easy chair and walk him to the dinner table and I couldn't lift him, and I lost my grip, and the BEST I could do was to try to control his fall so he basically slid down my leg to the floor rather than just crashing down hard.

OY...

Let's just say I feel your pain. And I share your relief and sense of RELEASE. Your dad is free now, and able-bodied, and clear-minded. For all I know he may even have found his way to the big speakeasy in the sky where my dad is undoubtedly enjoying some cool Kansas City jazz into the wee hours with all his old war buddies and some fancy dames and a 7-&-7 and probably more than a little pot smoke.

And YOU are free now, too.

HUGS! And MORE HUGS!!! You deserve it. The ordeal is over for all of you, as well as for him. And you can be proud in knowing how loving and devoted and good you were to him and to your mother at a really shitty time. You'll be able to report well for yourself when you meet St. Peter at the Pearly Gates.

And we love you here. :hug: :grouphug:

[mwdem]

5. ...

:hug:

[otherlander]

6. I'm sorry.

:cry:

:hug:

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

9. It's okay. Really,...

My Dad fought so hard for the grace and approval of my Mom,...

His existence was so humiliating and painful,...

When he took his last two breaths, I was thankful,...for him. I gave him a :hug: and told him it was "okay" and kissed him on the forehead as I have done since he became unable to control any aspects of his life, months ago.

I appreciate the "I'm sorry." I know where that comes from,...the heart,...the greatest strength of humanity: compassion.

Thank you!! :hug:

[rockymountaindem]

8. I'm sorry for your loss

I'm not qualified to give any advice on how to handle these existential questions, but I hope you'll find answers soon :hug:

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

10. No moment is ordinary.

Existentialism.

There are no "answers". However, there are connections: psychologically and physically and emotionally and 'spiritually', and,...existentially.

Thanks. :hug:

[Fredda Weinberg]

11. My condolences, but my experience was probably healthier. You see,

I carried my mother to the toilet so she could maintain her dignity to the end. Yes, it was the cancer in her brain that took her, but hospice at home was everything you could ask for - by the end, she was comfortable and accepting. Her final word, in fact, as I rubbed her toes, was "Good".

So, suffering is not required for a good life or even a proper death. I was prepared for the role I fulfilled and frankly, don't understand how Americans resort to paid help. It was never an expectation in my immigrant family.

Best wishes to your family. Perhaps, in resolving your own conflicts, you can be there for others as they work through their grief. If so, sharing is worth it.

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

16. Interesting that you would choose the "toes".

I stroked, massaged, soaked and, well,...sponsored my Dad's fingers and toes.:D

He adopted a simple phrase, "Rub, rub, rub" after being touched in such ways.

No one should be PAID to assist others to the natural phase of DEATH.

However, there is nothing wrong with offering relief from pain and suffering.

I wanted my Dad to be in a situation where he could get relief from pain and suffering whether it be by drugs or "healthy" people.

I no more understand "Americans" than you. I thought I was one until,...

Well,...I'm just human, like you,...

[Fredda Weinberg]

21. I understand. It took a long time for my mother to surrender; but it was

only after she accepted the risk that I was able to schedule a long-overdue epidural and dispense morphine before she needed it.

Toes? My father showed me that the dying have cramped feet. My mother was frightfully quiet - that final word means everything ... you can have it too, because even if he didn't manage to say it, your father appreciated it just as much.

I accepted paid help when my brother offered - they simply couldn't be held responsible as I was. They would fall asleep, but I set my alarm every two hours once she lost consciousness.

I won't ask anyone to look after me that way; but I'm not afraid of death. For our parents, we do the best we can and feel better when we accept their limitations. And even if you didn't bridge the gulf with conversation in life, love never dies - and our loved ones never have to leave us.

Peace and best regards.

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

26. Beautiful. Thank you.

:hug:

Peace to you, TOO!!!

Love NEVER dies. It's not a "fact" to be proven but rather accepted, in humble gratitude.

*LOL* My Dad was SUCH AN ASSHOLE!!! :rofl:

The night after he died, I had a dream,...

,...he said he was SO SORRY for being SO MEAN. He also told me, "you have to prove yourself to no one other than YOU.".

I'm chewing on that,...and haven't seen him in my dreams, since.

[Iris]

28. I think they should be paid and paid well.

It's horrible trying to find help during these times. There was recently a segment on Fresh Air about this. People who work in these positions are generally paid very poorly and so the quality of care suffers. But there are people who have a gift... and if you're lucky, you find one who is willing to use it even if it means a substandard wage.

[texanwitch]

12. Just been there with my friend's Mom.

I don't want to stay around when I no longer have control over my mind or body.

My friend had a hard time letting her Mom go.

It was a rough time.

We were with her Mom when she passed, it was blessing.

Peace be with you Dad and family.:hug:

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

13. What I learned is that,...what's important,...to people,...is,...

BEING PRESENT,...whenever possible,...just holding hands,...

,...just being available.

[quakerboy]

14. I honor and apreciate the fighters

What really stinks is when the first party wants to be done, but the family cannot/will not let go. That is hard to see.

I am sorry for your loss.

[Shine]

15. I'm sorry for your loss and send blessings of Peace and Comfort to you and your mom.

:hug:
Did you get Hospice involved, at the end? I am a hospice volunteer visitor and our whole purpose is to provide practical support to the families and patients of those suffering from life-threatening illnesses. It's a hard journey to walk down and nobody should have to do it alone.

Hospice is all about providing dignity, comfort and support as one goes through the dying process. Sadly, our society and medical community sees Death as something to be afraid of and to be avoided, instead of recognizing how completely ordinary, and yet sacred, it is.

I wish you Peace and Comfort during your time of sorrow. Be gentle with yourself. :hug:

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

18. No. She wouldn't go there until I threatened and actually called "911".

He died less than 72 hours later.

And,...

,...that was okay with me. She still thought she had "more time",...in spite of being 'educated' about his condition. My Mom was still talking about a total fiction about brain cancer victims having a 20% survival rate. It was just,...so weird!!! His tumor came back three-fold after surgery and radiation and chemo. The "super" exploratory KILLER chemo destroyed over half his bone marrow and we had to have him hospitalized JUST TO STABILIZE him,...

I can't blame her, though. No doctor told her the truth,...that he was DYING. She was clinging to his being one of the fictional (seriously, I do NOT know where she found it) 20% who survive his brain cancer. I was celebrating his mark beyond six months!!!!!

He has no struggle, now.

As for my Mom? :shrug:

[Shine]

20. Ah, that's so sad.

A lot of doctors won't speak the truth about Death because it is seen as the ultimate failure of the medical community...instead of something natural and inevitable for all of us.

I am glad your Dad is out of his pain and suffering. Again, I wish you Peace.

Your mom will go through her own journey with the grieving process, as will you. There's no "right" or "wrong" way to do it. I encourage you to explore the bereavement support available to you through your local hospice organization. :hug:

Hang in there.

[av8rdave]

17. So sorry for your loss....

thanks for posting.

[lightningandsnow]

22. ...

:hug:

That was beautiful.

[lost-in-nj]

23. I understand also

I was a caregiver to my brother and my Mom wanted so much for him to stay, but she finally realized he was suffering to much and changed her tactics,
and primary care giver for my Mother... I learned how NOT to do it from her,
so she went with out (what I hope), was to much suffering....



:hug:


los

[sicksicksick_N_tired]

25. You are an amazing human being!!!

:hug:

You were THERE for both your brother and your Mom!!!

:hug:

People don't seem to do that, for one another, even their family, anymore.

It's SO IMPORTANT to BE THERE for those we love because,...well,...it makes our lives,...purposeful, real, loving.

I'm hoping my sister who's fighting cancer will live beyond me.

:hug:

[Iris]

27. "I thought I had more time"

that says it all for me.

My mother-in-law fought like hell when she was dying from leukemia. The last 24 hours with her - I wouldn't give them up for anything.

[mnhtnbb]

29. I'm so sorry for your loss. I missed being with my Dad by about 10 minutes

when he died.

He was 91 and failing. No cancer, but he had a postoperative dementia that left him not
understanding recent history. After my mom died (and he was there) some months later he would
talk about seeing her. (Maybe he did?) He slowly deteriorated more physically for the next year and a half after my mom died. Finally, he decided to stop eating one weekend when he knew (I think he understood when I told him) that hubby and I were going out of town. I got a phone call at the hotel
the next day from the nursing home asking whether to put in a feeding tube. I said, "NO!"
We had updated his living will when I moved him to NC from CA after mom died, and he had expressly
agreed to not having feeding tubes.

It was hard, but it was his decision. I had been with him earlier in the day, gone home to fix dinner for my two boys, and was picking hubby up at the airport then going back to see Dad. I got the call
that he'd come out of the coma he'd been in and to get there quickly. I missed being with him
by only a few minutes.

:hug: