Chapter 2: Background Information
My Memories
There were many pleasant and unpleasant things that occurred in my Mom's life after she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. I will attempt to bring to light experiences concerning my mother's life and death as I recollected them from memory, from journals, and from letters. These re-collections are altogether straightforward and honest.
The Family Compact
Mom's third husband was Gord N whom she married in 1963. At that time, Mom (Esther Mary [Curtiss] Barber) had two grown children by her first husband--the youngest child was Vernon Barber and the oldest was Joyce Ripley (writer of this memoir). Joyce married a military officer, now retired, and lives in New Brunswick. Vernon died of cancer in 1987. Gord's second wife, the mother of Sonya and Alf, died of cancer when her children were very young. Mom fell in love with the two of them when she was housekeeping for Gord. She married Gord because he was the father of those children that she adored. Gord had three adult children by his first wife--Shirley, John and Max. Gord also has a stepson Karl.
Medical Background
In February 1998, Mom successfully underwent bypass heart surgery. She knew she still had some blockages in her heart that couldn't be operated on and, consequently, understood why she never regained the energy she had before the operation. I helped look after her from February to early April of that year. No oned minded at that time that I was the main caregiver (with Gord's help). Later Mom had a pacemaker implanted in her chest to help control angina attacks. After Mom's bypass heart surgery, I phoned at least once a week to chat with her and to keep tabs on her wellbeing.
In the fall of 2001, my Mom suffered a blockage in her lower intestine. The doctors decided to operate and on October 11, 2001, they took out about a foot of the bowel that was obstructed. During the operation, the doctor found a fatty mass near her ovaries. He took out the tumour, then had it analyzed. It was cancerous. After much soul searching, Mom decided to take the proffered course of chemotherapy to battle the cancer. I looked after her from mid-September until early November. Shirley came to look after Mom the day before I left for home. I remember hugging Shirley and saying, Take good care--of both of them.
My cousin, Angie, who went to help Mom at various times, sent me an e-mail message on November 9, 2001, regarding Mom's state of mind:
"I am worried that your mom has already given up. She has planned who she is giving all of her things to and was saying that she had wanted to make you a quilt before she died and that she had wanted to finish knitting the sweater that she is making for Heather and now she is afraid that she won't be able to do either. If nothing else, I would like to go there and encourage her not to give up yet. I tried to encourage her--told her that she should still be able to make a quilt top for you, but working a little on it every day, and that seemed to brighten her up. She is planning to can beets this afternoon, of all things, and right away figured out that she could be sewing on it a bit while she was downstairs waiting for beets to boil! It isn't normally in that woman's nature to give up!"
Mom's first chemo treatment was on December 3, 2001. She seemed to tolerate that treatment quite well. After the second treatment at the end of December, she began to feel worse. She had to use a cane or walker to get around the house. Mom was saddened to learn that her sister Kay had cancer and was not expected to live very long. Kay died on December 28.
My cousin visited Mom the next January to help her after the second chemo treatment. Mom could still take care of herself and attempted to make meals and manoeuvred with the help of a walker. My cousin then phoned Shirley, Gord's eldest daughter, who came to look after Mom late in January 2002. Mom asked Shirley to give up her condominium or rent it out so that Shirley could stay at the house and look after Mom full time. According to Mom, Shirley said, Don't worry. I'm here now. Shirley agreed to look after Mom and planned to do so "for the duration." Mom began to use a wheelchair when her legs became weak. When her legs became too heavy to move, she was confined to her bed. She still managed to get up, with help, to use the commode that was provided fo her and occasionally she ate at the table sitting in the wheelchair.
Early in February, the family doctor decided that Mom needed palliative care and nurses and care workers were assigned to her on a daily basis. The care workers bathed her and looked after her personal needs for about one hour a day and the nurses visited weekly to take blood samples and monitor her condition. Mom's medical condition was recorded daily in a red-covered book that was kept in her bedroom. Occasionally, the doctor visited Mom in her home.
When I talked to Mom late in January 2002, she sounded weak so I decided to fly to Pentiction from Fredericton to help her. I arrived on February 2, 2002. Shirley and Alf drove to Kelowna to meet me at the airport. I presumed that I would be taking care of Mom just as I had the other times that she had been sick. I had no reason to believe otherwise.
Everyone was sure that Mom had only a short time to live.
During the drive to the house, Shirley filled me in on Mom's condition. Shirley assured me that Mom's Will had been made as the doctor suggested it should be. She described Mom's bedsores and thought they might become cancerous just as her own mother's sores had been. She knew Mom's sores would never heal. She said she had a long talk with her Dad about Mom's dying because she thought he was denying that her illness was so grave. (Gord's relatives spent a lot of time preparing him for Mom's death; no one thought it necessary to prepare for her tenacious hold on life.) Shirley mentioned that Mom wanted us to go downtown together and take money from her bank account (pause) for me. She thought we wouldn't have any problems doing that. I said that Mom didn't owe me any money and I wondered silently why it was mentioned at all. She went on to describe in detail Mom's illness and how it might progress. She said Mom had no pain but that might change.
When I arrived at the house, I found Mom was not able to get out of bed except to use the commode with assistance. Just a week before, she had been getting around the house with a cane or walker. I remarked to Mom how passive and docile she was when we were caring for her--not just because she couldn't move very easily even in bed--but because she accepted everything without comment. She seemed surprised to hear me say that. I always thought of Mom as being fully in charge and giving instructions rather than receiving them. Her illness made her very submissive although I did see some evidence of her old spark once when we repositioned her in bed too roughly.
Shirley's role as caregiver meant that she monitored and administered Mom's pills, spread ointment on her bedsores, made meals and fed her, helped Mom use the commode during the night and did whatever Mom needed done while she lay in bed.
Shirley was knowledgeable about her own mother's death from cancer. Her mother had been Gord's first wife. She said that she learned exactly what should be done because she had looked after her mother during that time. (Later I learned that wasn't entirely the truth). She applied the knowledge she had learned about her own mother's condition to my Mom's circumstances. But her mother had died of bone cancer and had had a great deal of pain. According to my gynaecologist, ovarian cancer is very different from bone cancer. Shirley often made comparisons between her mother's condition and my mother's, which didn't help us improve our care of Mom. I mentioned to Shirley that each cancer was probably different: her mother's illness was not my mother's illness.
Shirley believed that Mom's food intake should be small as her appetite was not good. I believe Shirley thought it would be better to feed Mom small amounts of food in order not to prolong the agony of her illness. I thought that Mom should be given a little more food than she might want because sometimes her appetite was better than at other times. Shirley told me all the foods Mom shouldn't eat and the list got longer and longer (corn, cheese, fresh vegetables, broccoli, pasta, etc.) until I was worried that Mom wouldn't have anything left to eat!
When I asked the nurse about what food Mom should eat, she said that she could eat anything she wanted. If the food disagreed with her, she could take pepto bismol!
Shirley told me that she really didn't like to cook so I volunteered to do the cooking, which I did for the first ten days of my stay. Consequently, I did the majority of the care giving and the cooking during that time. But I really didn't mind as long as I was able to look after Mom. One day I made a meal of baby spareribs and placed the dishes of food on the talbe for each person to serve her-/himself. I left the table to get a plate on which to put Mom's food. When I got back to the table, all the smallest, choicest ribs were on Shirley's and Gord's plates and they were busy eating away. I said to them, I was hoping to give the smallest ribs to Mom because they are more tender and easier to eat. They just kept right on eating without comment. So I took a large sparerib and cut it into the smallest pieces I could and took them into the bedroom for Mom to eat. She had a hard time chewing those tougher pieces.
When Mom could no longer use the walker, Gord took it back to the Red Cross. The wheelchair was also sent back even though Mom continued to ask for it. I asked Gord to get another one because Mom told me she wanted to use it "to practice with." He said, Well, she's going downhill pretty fast anyway. So I said, Do it for me then. He did not look pleased at my request. Later in the week he reconsidered my request and gave me the phone number of the rental place and I went to pick up another wheelchair. Gord was not happy about my making that decision.
Mom kept asking everyone why she couldn't move her legs. Sometimes I would see her exercising her arms and legs as she lay in bed. I helped her by gently massaging her legs and feet and by moving her legs to use the muscles. The home care people assisted her in this manner also. I gave her cans of soup to exercise her arms with. Gradually, Mom's right leg began to swell badly and became painful. She had been fitted for elastic stockings up to the knee, but the right leg started to swell above the knee and the stockings became too uncomfortable and were removed. As well, Mom gradually had more and more difficulty breathing and was given a constant source of oxygen.
The nurses said that once a person was put on oxygen, it would be very unlikely that she would be taken off it again.
All the while, the doctors and nurses told Mom that cancer was gradually robbing her of her energy and her ability to breathe because it was pushing up her diaphragm and causing difficulties. Mom also suffered from congestive heart failure.
A baby monitor was set up in Mom's room so we could hear when she called us during the day or at night. We could listen from any room in the house. It was especially useful at night when Shirley got up to help Gord with Mom. One day when I decided to wear the monitor for the day so I could go outside and still hear Mom call, Gord got very upset and told his daughters that he didn't want me wearing it. I asked them why he didn't tell me that himself. No one knew why. I never wore it again.
Conflict
Tensions gradually rose between Shirley and me. I approached Gord to say that Shirley was far too negative with respect to Mom's condition. Gord said, Well, she is only going to stay for a couple of days. Shirley stayed for a month and a half (Sonya stayed about half that long). I finally told Shirley that her conversations caused me a great deal of stress. I suggested that we divide the work up so that she looked after Gord's needs and I looked after Mom's.
One day, as Shirley stood at the door shispering to the nurses as they were leaving, I heard her mention that she was leaving to pick up Sonya but would be back to care for Mom. I suggested to her that she let me take care of Mom, and I would call her if I needed help. She told me that one person couldn't do everything and I agreed with her. She got very upset about my asking to care for my own Mother and I got upset too. She opened the door and said to the nurses and me, I'm leaving then if that's how you feel. She shut the door briefly then opened it and re-entered the house. I felt bad that I had suggested she leave and backtracked immediately.
Then again, it only seemed natural to me that I should look after my own mother. Shirley said she felt sorry for Sonya. I said, Let Sonya speak for herself. Gord came around the corner just then and asked, What's going on? I said gently, You don't really want to know. However, I apologized to Shirley for suggesting she should leave as it was her father's home as much as it was my Mom's.
There were a lot of things happening in the background that militated against evenhandedness: the family members listened surreptitiously to the baby monitor to hear Mom and my conversations when I was in the bedroom alone with her. I don't know what they wanted to hear. They also listened in on private telephone conversations in the house. I knew that Shirley was desperate for money as she couldn't fix the transmission on her car and couldn't even afford to fill her gas tank. I noticed there were a few closed-door conferences amongst Gord and his children to which I was never invited. Mom told me that the family liked to discuss topics over and over again amongst themselves until they had been talked to death. When the topic became boring, they would make suppositions that would add spice to the original subject matter. And the discussion would go on and on with the new information thrown in and tossed about for good measure. I listened to her tell me that but I didn't really hear it.
I know that during this time Mom worried about the three "daughters" cooperating. She often asked me if everyone was getting along. I told her that Shirley was really bossy but that didn't bother me too much. One time we were all lined up at the foot of the bed to hear what the doctor had to say about her illness, and Mom said, Don't you girls have some work you should be doing? She never liked to see idleness and none of us was lazy. We all did housework, laundry, dusting, and general cleaning as well as caring for Mom and Gord.
Once, Mom indicated to me that she would like to go to a nursing home so that there would be no conflict regarding caregiving. She explained that she didn't want to be a burden to anyone. She often indicated that she didn't want to inconvenience anyone. I told her I thought we had solved the division-of-labour problem. For some time, nothing more was said about Mom's going to a care facility. Mom said to me that she always thought that if Gord died first, she would come and live near me in a nursing home where Don's mother had resided before her death.
Group Counselling
Because of the tension the nurse saw between Shirley and me, the nurse scheduled a group meeting with a counsellfor to help solve problems between us.
(Notes made in February 2002 in preparation for a counselling session for Sonya, Shirley, Gord and Joyce given by John, the counsellor. I made these notes to help focus my mind on what I wanted to say at the meeting. These are the same points that I made verbally, and without notes, during the meeting.)
1. Apologize for bad behaviour (asking Shirley to leave, saying I would call her if I needed help looking after Mom.)
2. Express my need to look after Mom. It frightens even me how strong this need it. I don't want others to feel excluded. I want to feel I can ask for help at any time without being told how many spoonsful of food to feed Mom, without being told I can't care for her by myself (I already know that), without talk of wills, taking money from Mom't account and continual talk of cancer and what it will do when it metastasizes.
3. I see my need as part of the love/birth/death cycle.
4. I need to see her through her illness in the way I choose to do it.
5. Shirley knows what I mean--she nursed her own mother through her last illness. That's all I want to do--nurse Mom through her illness.
At the meeting, Sonya spoke first and talked about how much she admired me as an older sister and how much she wanted to be like me. This astonished me and I started to protest but the counsellor told me to listen to what she had to say. Afterwards I said to Sonya, I'm flattered to hear you say that. (And flattery it was.) I mentioned to Sonya that she and Alf and I shared a similar upbringing so that we had a lot in common. I thought we would be able to understand each other better because of that. Then Sonya said she would like to take care of the cooking of the meals if that was all right with everyone.
I was asked to respond next. When I referred to my being told how much food I should feed Mom, Shirley said, She means me. I continued with the rest of the points I wanted to make. Then Shirley said to me, Joyce, I stopped looking after your Mom when you asked me to, didn't I? Well, tell everyone that I stopped caring for your Mom and let you do it. Say it! I said nothing. Then I made my next point by saying that my Mom wiped my behind when I was little and I would gladly do the same for her now that she is bedridden. I continued with the other points as listed above.
Finally, Shirley stated to the group that the marital relationship should be considered above all else. I asked her what exactly that meant because it sounded as though she thought I was trying to impose myself between Mom and Gord. The counsellor asked her to explain. Shirley, with reluctance, explained that she meant that her Dad should take more of a role in Mom's care. I agreed with her. Later, I was to hear, over and over again, about how important that marital relationship was, especially when compared with the filial relationship between Mom and me.
Gord never said one word at that meeting.
The counsellor old me that I shouldn't take everything so personally. I replied that it sounded like textbook advice to me. I wondered silently how I could treat my mother's last illness objectively--as though it were happening to someone else's mother? Nothing was more personal than your own mother's death!
The last thing that Shirley said to me at that counselling session was an implied reprimand that I should have been in the bedroom looking after Mom all along! That really upset me and I left the meeting very hurt and crying, especially in light of the fact that before I came, Shirley and Gord spent most of their afternoons putting puzzles together and ignoring Mom in the bedroom! I ran downstaris to my bedroom in a fury at her suggestion and called her some choice names, bitch being the most prominent. Sonya followed me downstairs to console me. I thought that was strange at the time, but took it at face value.
John, the counsellor, felt the problems were resolved after he talked privately with each of the three women. I do not know what he said to Shirley and Sonya after the initial group discussion. Basically he suggested to me that we three should share the caregiving duties. He also said that Shirley knew what buttons to push to get me going and I, likewise, knew which buttons to push to get her going.
One thing that the nurses and counsellor impressed on all of us was that, when things didn't go quite right during Mom's care, we were not to point fingers of blame at others. Caring for a dying person was difficult enough without ascribing any fault. That made sense to me. However, on reflection, that policy would leave the onus on the health care personnel to discover incompetence in the care of the dying person; all other suggestions of incompetence could be considered just so much pettifoggery.
In the end, Sonya did the cooking and Shirley and Gord continued to get up in the night to help Mom to the commode. Separately and privately I told both Sonya and Gord that I would willingly share the daily care with Shirley: we could each work two days in rotation. They seemed to think that was okay. Even though I was willing to divide the routine evenly with Shirley, she never heard my offer because she was still too angry about my wanting to do any care giving that she blurted out that she would do whatever I wanted. I accepted what she said and thought how fortunate I was to be able to look after Mom during the day. One of the rules that was set down before I arrived at the house was that there should always be two people helping Mom on the commode. I usually asked for Shirley. I thought everyone was satisfied with the outcome of the meeting.
Mom's brother, John, talked to Gord one day about Gord's role as the authority in the family. John attempted to suggest to Gord that he could make some decisions about, or at least take the initiative in, what was happening in his house. John spoke for some time in a similiar vein, but Gord never said a word in response. John, a little disappointed, ended the one-way conversation by making a joke about telling others what they should do when he didn't always know what to do himself. Everyone laughed courteously, except me.
I thought that talking to Gord to get him to make a decision was like talking to a post--he heard but didn't respond and things stayed the same. Gord preferred to make his decisions in private. Of more interest to Gord, which he made public at every opportunity, was how expensive it would be to drive to Pentiction to see Mom if she were put in hospice care there. I rejoined that it shouldn't matter how much it cost to drive; what about how tiring it was to drive that distance back and forth every day? Really, I was disgusted that money seemed to be the most important topic at the time rather than Mom's care. My voice revealed my antipathy.
Ultimately, my job was to bring Mom food (and usually I ate meals with her), put salve on her bedsores about four times daily, look after other personal things she asked for, and help her on and off the commode (during most of Mom's illness, she measured the intervals of her healtth from one successful bowel movement to the next!). Mom was always concerned with the healing of her bedsores. She wondered how old people who spent their lives in bed in care facilities managed to keep from having bedssores. She asked the doctor, the nurses and the home care workers this question many times. When I looked after her bedsores, I made sure to wash them thoroughly with soap and water and afterwards with clear water. Then I used a magazine as a fan and fanned the area until the sores no longer looked moist before I applied the special ointment. The sores began to heal very quickly after that. I used to think what a picture we made with my Mom's bare butt hanging out and me sitting on the floor beside the bed fanning away like a madwoman! She worried a lot about those bedsores until they finally healed and disappeared some time in March.
I also did my share of cooking meals and cleaning the house. Mom wanted Shirley to do her hair and Sonya did her nails and facial care. I thought it was very important to sit with Mom throughout the day and just talk with her. Sometimes I combed her hair. Sometimes I massaged her feet with lotion. I reminder her that Mary washed Jesus' feet as a sign of respect. We did a lot of reminiscing, chatting and reading together.
Things went quite well. We periodically had small meetings to discuss disagreements. For example, Shirley wanted to put Depends on Mom before I thought it was necessary. I gave in on that issue. Shirley always seemed to want to get things going right now, as though she were eager to assist the process of dying, I thought. Once I gave Mom some cheese to eat and Shirley mentioned three separate times that Mom shouldn't eat cheese because it would bind her. The last time she said it, I got exasperated and told her to not mention it again. Later I told her what I really needed was some "Shirley-free" days. I also reminded her that it was my mother I was caring for.
Gord usually gave Mom a sleeping pill to help her sleep at night. One evening, Mom asked me if she could have her pill early. The N's felt she only needed the pills when they themselves went to bed, which was around midnight. I asked, Was that time convenient for Mom or for them? I don't think they were pleased. One of my duties was to give Mom a diuretic pill in the afternoon to control water retention. One day I forgot and Gord got angry and said, "You're going to overdose her!" That didn't make sense. But it wasn't the words that were important; it was the suggestion of incompetence the words implied.
Conversations with Mom (February 2002)
Mom told me more than once that, before I came, Shirley and Gord spent a lot of their afternoons in the living room putting a jigsaw puzzle together. She said that they didn't pay much attention to her and she felt neglected. Subsequently, she fell in the bathroom and had to bang on the wall with her cane for a long time before anyone came to help her. She was badly bruised in the fall.
During February, Mom and I did a lot of talking and reading. I read Ecclesiastes to her, which is my favourite book in the Bible; both Mom and I read Revelations to each other, which is her favourite book. I couldn't get through many verses without weeping, especially when I thought about her not being here anymore. Sometimes I would read a verse or two from the Bible and she would interpret their meaning for me. She enjoyed instructing me in the Good Book and explaining human behaviour in that manner. I once told her I couldn't imagine the world without her in it. She began to cry and then said that I would die sometime too. I know that we all die, but I used to get a peculiar horrible sinking feeling when I thought about her not being here anymore. I tried to think what it would be like without her, but I couldn't get my mind around the idea.
Mom encouraged me to become a Christian as she wanted to be sure we would be together in eternity. It was disconcerting to me to be asked this, as I knew that years before she had tried to get my brother to convert as he lay dying. I knew one couldn't be coerced into making such a major decision. Concerson comes from the depths of the heart.
One day at her request, I brought in Mom's clothes from the closet in the television room so she could tell me which ones to pack into plastic bags for giving away and which to leave in the closet. We filled two plastic bags before stopping because she was too tired to continue. I learned a lot about the history of each outfit--whether it was bought or made, where the material came from, when it was made, and so forth. She would describe on which occasions she wore the clothes. Mom loved to tell the history of her clothes! Of course, she encouraged me to take any clothes that would fit me, but Mom had lost so much weight that her clothes were too petite for me.
Mom talked about how she would have to live 120 years in order to get all her projects finished. Sometimes she thought she could do some needlework but when I suggested I should bring her something to work on, she declined. She had sewn together the squares of my quilt and had begun to add the batting but she never had the energy to finish it. Mine was her last quilt. One day she said to me regretfully, I made everyone in the family a quilt and here I can't even finish the one for my own daughter!
Each morning I would leave the house around 6:30 am or 7 am to begin an hours and a half of walking. I would kiss my fingertips and place that kiss on the stucco wall under her outside bedroom winder and whisper, I love you, Mom. Each day when I returned I talked to her aobut what I had seen on my walks: horses, cats, the mountains, the snow on the hills, the trees and how they changed, the dogs I petted, the quails talking busily to each other, the river and whether it was high or low, photographs I took, and so on. Mom told me that Shirley said to her that I would have to stop going on my walks if I was going to care for Mom fulltime. Shirley had opinions on everything.
I told Mom about my new art studio which I called Hermit Thrush. I showed her my new business cared. I explained to her that Monet said he would like to paint like a bird sings. Well, the hermit thrush has a beautifully ethereal song of about seven notes. She sings those notes over and over but in a different arrangement each time.
I also mentioned to her that I was having my first art exhibition in the Playhouse in Fredericton and that I had sold four paintings. She was very excited and pleased with the news. I had brought my watercolour paints with me and I painted a couple of pictures while I was there. Mom liked me to paint whenever I felt like it. She described to me the best paintings that she had sold and she wished I had been able to see them before their new owners took them away.
We talked a lot about Mom's illness and what all the changes in her body meant. She wondered about the fluid accumulating in her lungs. She wondered why her legs were so heavy that she couldn't walk. We marvelled that she had so little pain. Mom recited verses she learned in school as a child; she sang songs. I brought up a drop-leaf table from downstairs so I could eat meals with her. Sometimes she would manage to sit on the side of the bed and we would eat a meal on the table together. Occasionally Mom was able to read her favourite Reader's Digest Condensed books and other books and magazines. I told her how much I would miss her. I held her hands and thought about the good times we had had together. I reminded her of events I remembered from my childdhood (see Chapter 10).
Alf visited Mom too. Sonya told me that Shirley didn't want her to help Mom at night and Shirley indicated that she was displeased even when Alf took a hot drink in to Mom during one of his visits. Alf told me privately that he didn't know what to talk about when he visited Mom and that's why I suggested he take a drink in to her. I couldn't tell him what to say but a drink would help. Mom told me later that she and Alf had nothing in common to talk about. She liked to listen to him discuss his daughter Jessica and his son Andrew, though. Mom also said she had nothing in common to talk to Sonya about, but she didn't have to worry because Sonya had lots of things to say without much coaching from anyone.
Mom specifically asked me why I was crying so hard the day of the counselling session in the house. My bedroom was right below hers so that she heard me. I told her what Shirley had said. I also told Mom that I thought Sonya was being very supportive of me. Mom did not respond but just looked thoughtful. She was fully aware of everything happening in the house: either she heard what was going on (her hearing was excellent) or she asked questions. She had little else to do, lying in bed all day. When people shispered in the hall or the entryway about Mom's condition, she could hear them and understood she was the subject of the whispered conversations.
When I realized that we three "girls" weren't going to get along (like sister, as Mom hoped), I decided to tell Mom a little parable using Lear's three daughters, and some improvisation, as a way of describing our present situation. I told her that in the play, the oldest daughter, Regan, was only interested in money and land, the next daughter, Goneril, only wanted to socialize and have a good time, and the last daughter, Cordelia, dutifully acted out of love for her father. Before the father divided his kingdom amongst them, he asked each of his daughters to tell him how much they loved him. The first two daughters flattered him and told him what he wanted to hear. The other daughter, Cordelia, told him that her actions spoke for themselves and she didn't need to tell him how she felt. Because he didn't hear what he wanted to hear, Lear banished Cordelia and divided his kingdom between the other two daughters. Later the two daughters who gained contyrol over their father's kinghdom turned on their father, reviled him and threw him out of his own castle, penniless and homeless. Only the caring daughter sought her father out and cared for him just before he died in agony knowing that those he trusted the most had betrayed him!
In hindsight, I can say that there was more than enough absurdity and despair in Mom's last days on earth to give credence to this comparison of Sonya with Goneril. Certainly there were just as many misjudgments. As Gloucester says: 'Tis the time's plague when madmen (Sonya) lead the blind (Gord).'
I suggested to Mom that there were too many epople trying to look after her. She didn't respond to my observation.
Later when I told Mom about all our conversations in February, she couldn't remember having had them!
More Conversations with Mom (Ones She Remembered!)
Mom and I talked about what kind fo funeral she wanted. She said that when she died, if she looked pretty good, she would like to have an open casket in the church then be cremated. If she didn't look good, she wanted to be cremated right away. She especially wanted to bring every one of her artificial flowers in their vases to be put in the church. She felt there were enough to more than fill the church. It made her happy to think about having all her own artificial flowers displayed in vases she had made herself. Using her artificial flowers for decoration would make sense in the middle of the winter when there were no flowers in the garden. At the time she thought she had only "weeks to live" as the doctor had told her. (In fact, she thought the doctor said "six weeks," but I told told her no, he just said "weeks.") I asked about a plot of land in the cemetery and she thought that Gord had taken care of that. Indeed!
When I told Mom that I felt like an outsider in her family, she replied that she did, too, sometimes. She said that when the N's were angry with someone, they stood firmly together to exclude the outsider. They circled the wagons to protect against the "other," the enemy. For example, Mom told me when Gay divorced Gord's sone, Shirley especially was very unhappy with Gay "deserting" the family. But Mom thought Gay was the most fun-loving person she had every met and continued to phone her and visit with her. Mom liked her upbeat and joyous personality which, she felt, was in contrast with her own. She attended Gay's wedding to Chuck. Mom and Gay had a very good relationship and enjoyed each other's company immensely. They also shared hiatus hernia stories!
Mom told me that when she and Gord were first married he used to constantly and derogatively compare her abilities with his second wife's. He once said at the table, Pass me one of them "dog biscuits," referring to the buns Mom had baked. He would use the power of silence and belittling to reprove Mom. Mom herself admitted to having a bad temper. I do not know for sure where the realy power lay in Mom and Gord's marriage. I suspect they took turns being "in charge" although Mom was the disciplinarian and chief cook and bottle washer, for sure. Whoever controlled the purse strings probably had the final say and that would be Gord. They certainly worked together to get some activities accomplished. They never liked to visit without doing something special for the person they visited. They never liked to be beholden to others, but it was perfectly fine for others to be beholden to them.
Mom told me stories about the N family so I would get to know them better. Shirley was invariably described as "always being good" to Mom. But Mom was good to her too. Mom made ceramic figurines, quilted bedspreads, curtains, tablecloths, clothes and whatever else she was asked to make for any member of the N family. She painted pictures for Shirley and bought her elephant figurines, which Shirley collected. Mom often gave money to her when she needed it. Shirley would leave Mom's house loaded down with food and canning. I know that Shirley always made Mom welcome in her home, but why not?
Years before, Shirley and her husband had sold their fish business and took Mom and Gord to Las Vegas with them to have a good time with the money. Unfortunately, about half the money from the sale was lost through gambling. Shirley and her husband bought a house with what was left. When Shirley's husband died shortly thereafter, she was unable to keep the house and moved into a condominium. Shirley went to work in retail to help make payments. Then she got sick and quit working. She told me herself that Revenue Canada had a lien on her apartment because they hadn't paid the tax owed on the sale of their business. I felt sorry for her because of her predicament but Gord himself suggested to me that she had brought it on herself.
Shirley was diagnosed with cancer around 1999 and had an operation to remove part of her colon. During recovery, she developed a blood clot in her leg and had to take blood thinners. She said she no longer was able to work. Later Shirley met a friend of her late husband's and he became her "sugar Daddy," to use Mom's description of their relationship. He was very generous to Shirley and, according to her, gave her as much money as she wanted or needed. When they had a disagreement and split up, Shirley was left again needing money to live on. She made some money by looking after animals in other people's homes. She seemed very philosophical about her situation but underneath she was, not just a little bit, financially desperate.
Shirley and I are the same age and each of us had three children, two boys and a girl. Shirley's mother was an alcoholic whom Gord divorced. Shirley told me that when they were small, they had to scramble to make ends meet. Once there were no shoes for the younger children and they had to ask Gord for money to buy shoes. Shirley was not happy with his distant relationship with them when they were children; in fact, when Shirley was young, she felt abandoned by her Dad. Mom said that occasionally as adults, Shirley and Gord had sharp disagreements but usually these didn't last very long.
When I first met Gord's son, John, he had just re-married Marilyn for a second time in 1998. John worked in the forestry business, which was seasonal and difficult work. he had operations to improve his eyesight but was eventually declared legally blind. He obtained a medical pension for his disability. In spite of this, he continued to drive himself to appointments but only during daylight hours. In 2002 he and Marilyn moved to Greenwood to be nearer Marilyn's relatives in the States. Gord helped them with their plumbing and yard work when they moved. Marilyn was interested in herbal remedies for illness and for maintaining daily health. It would drive Mom crazy to hear her when Mom was trying to do something or not feeling well. But Mom enjoyed Marilyn's company anyway because they both were interested in crafts and sewing and both of them admired the other's artistic abilities, especially in quilting.
John and Marilyn would come for visits at the house without phoning ahead. They usually arrived before mealtimes. Gord didn't mind not being told ahead of time about visits, but Mom would be upset because she wouldn't be able to plan mealtimes properly. They never learned the importance of letting people know when they were coming for a visit.
Max was an electrician and made a good living at it. He had a heart attack and underwent angioplasty. He said he never flet well enough afterwards to work. he, too, was given a medical pension for his disability. He stayed with Mom and Gord while he was recuperating. Even after he moved out, he continued to come to Mom's house at noontime to pick up his mail. Eventually, he met Molly and took great pleassure in going to square dances and line dancing at least three times a week. he and Molly bought a church (school?) building and renovated it and moved in. Mom visited the house in the summer of 2002 and said it was as cute as a doll's house. She also saw John and Marilyn's new house and like it, especially the colours.
Mom was very proud of Alf's accomplishments. She once wrote to tell me that Alf had paid off his mortgage by the time he was thirty. She said not many hyoung people could do that. She was proud of his managerial and union activities and his ability to stick to a job and do it well. Mom especially bragged about what good parents Alf and Kathleen were. Mom also admired Kathleen's creativity. They both did many crafts but of a different kind. However, Mom now and again lamented that Alf didn't hang her paintings in his house. She thought they just had different tastes in art, but she would have taken so much pride in seeing her pictures in their home. In the past, she had asked them to go camping together with just the two families so she could get to know her grandchildren better. The camping trip never happened and she was always disappointed about that. Mom occasionally wondered why Alf didn't come to see her more often when she was sick.
Mom tried to explain to me how she felt about Sonya. Sonya left home when she was only thirteen years old because she felt she needed to live life the way she wanted--with fewer rules and more freedom. She and Mom had many struggles and conflicts. Sonya married young and was divorced. Mom worried about Sonya not being settled and about her moving from job to job. She tried her hand at various jobs but lacked the self-confidence to stick with any of them. according to Mom. In 1990, Sonya set up an adoption foundation where Canadians could adopt Romanian orphan children. Sonya and her second husband, David, adopted a child from Romanis named Carmen. Mom described Carmen as being very charming and having a sweet disposition.
Sonya made trips abroad to organize her adoption work and, according to her, was responsible for 300 orphans being placed in homes and more than one million dollars being added to the Romanian economy. These adoptions each cost between $4000 and $5000 to transact. In 1991 the Romanian government placed a moratorium on international adoptions because of the growing black-market sales of Romanian children.
As Mom got older. she found it harder to deal with Sonya's need to assert herself. Once when Mom found herself alone in the care with Sonya, Sonya reviled her for the whole trip and Mom vowed never to do that again. She told me that she did not want to ever be alone with Sonya. Mom didn't like the screaming matches that Sonya carried out on the phone when talking to her. Mom did not want Sonya taking control of any of Mom's affairs, as she had been the source of a lot of heartache for Mom in the past.
Mom thought that Sonya had huge aspirations but not the ability to carry them out. She would tell me that Sonya didn't have the education to truly make the best of her abilities. They had disagreements before Sonya left home and afterwards. At times, especially after Mom got sick, they tried to make peace with each other.
Most importantly, Mom didn't want Sonya taking care of her in her last illness. Of that I am sure!
During her illness in February, Mom would ask me if Sonya had left for home yet and then wondered how her husband could manage so long without her. Mom was reluctant to hurt anyone's feelings by suggesting that there were too many people looking after her. She also worried about my being away from my husband for long periods of time.
Shirley, Sonya and Marilyn had one thing in common: they all loved to talk. They could talk about a subject for hours and never tire of it. They each had a favourite topic of conversation and they were never at a loss for words. Words, words, words; talk, talk, talk; it was a never-ending buzz of chatter. I always felt at a disadvantage because I do not talk just for the sake of talking although I don't mind listening to those who talk just for the sake of talking. Even when the conversation is repetitious and Narcissistic, I don't mind hearing others talk. I learned to listen to these three, but not carefully enough.
One of Mom's speical friends was Barb who also did Mom's hair while Mom was confined to bed. Barb's mother, who attended Mom's church, was not very well. Barb and Mom bartered their skills: Barb did Mom's hair and Mom did ceramics and other favours for Barb. Mom always thought she owed Barb something and would bring her a gift each time she had her hair done. Mom loved having her hair done. She liked having it brushed and a person could never brush it too long as far as she was concerned. The caregivers and I and others would often brush her hair. Barb even washed Mom's hair while Mom lay prone in bed. She was good to Mom and Mom was most appreciative.
Barb gave Mom her last permanent but, because of all the chemicals in Mom's hair from the chemo, Mom's hair began to fall out. Barb then cut it short and it looked very nice. Mom had always wondered what her hair would look like short and she found out it suited her very well. Mom described to me the many ceramic electrical plates that she created for Barb's new house. Each plate was different and each was equally beautiful and Mom was very proud of them. Barb thought they were lovely also.
Mom's Artwork
Now and again Mom would mention some painting she would like to do. The last wall decoration that she did was in the bathroom off her bedroom. She painted the greenery for flowers on the wall and together she and I pasted a paper picket fence in front of the green leaves. She was always going to finish the painting by putting the flowers on the leaves and over the top of the fence but she was never well enough to do that. She had managed to paint swans and water lilies in the main bathroom the previous fall even though she was not feeling well then.
She managed to crochet borders to decorate two display shelves, one in the TV room and one in the dining room. She chose her two favourite colours, turquoise for one and pink for the other. I used Mom's acrylics to paint the thumbtacks the same colour as the crochet thread. I tacked the borders to the shelves for her. Then I took down the ornaments from the shelves and washed them and put them back up. When they were finished, I remember Mom looking up proudly at her lace handiwork.
When I went downstairs to her ceramics room, I saw dozens of clay objects that she was someday going to fire or glaze or paint. It made me feel sick at heart to know that she would never finish all the projects she had started. The same with her sewing room: there were dozens of pieces of material, each one earmarked for a project she had in mind. They would never be finished. I grew simultaneously sentimental and nostalgic when I entered these rooms knowing she would never enter them again herself.
Mom's goal in life was to surround herself with the beautiful objects that she made. She did that very successfully. Everywhere you looked in her house there were lamps, lampshades, pictures, paper tole, decorative ceramic plates, curtains, slip covers, tablecloths, vases, ceramic wall hangings, and so on, which she had made. She made her own dishes for a twelve place setting, including all the bowls and glasses and cups and saucers. There was literally nothing that she wouldn't try her hand at. She made her own ceramic tiles and dozens of ornaments; she did petit point, needlework, cross-stitch and many other kinds of embroidery. She made men's suits, women's suits, day dresses, evening dresses, coats, socks and mitts. She did these things not just for herself but also for all the members of her family and for the community at large, including the church. She surrounded herself with beauty to keep ugliness at bay. I hope that the Beauty she created in her life filled her mind at the end of her life because--
The mind is its own place, and in it self
Can make a Heav'n of Hell... (John Milton, Paradise Lost)
When I left Mom's house in April 2002, she gave me a triptych that she had painted. It was a Japanese-inspired work. I hung it at the bottom of the stairs leading into my studio. i told her later that a visitor to my studio stopped to admire her pictures and said, I really like those! He looked at my artwork and then on the way out of the studio said again, while looking at Mom's pictures, That's a really nice set of pictures. When I told Mom this anecdote she was bursting with pride that someone liked her work so much. She treasured and sometimes craved appreciation for her artwork. She wondered about the differences in our technique. I told her she didn't need to worry about competition between us because she had the whole West of sell her paintings to and I had the whole East!
Mom's Concerns About Gord's Welfare
When Mom was sick in February 2002, she worried about how Gord would get along without her. She asked me whether I thought Gord's adult children would take good care of him after she was gone. (She had asked me that same question after she underwent bypass surgery in 1998 when she wanted me to stay in touch with Gord if she should die. I didn't promise.) I assured her that they would be very good to their own father, and that, maybe, he would find someone to marry and look after him. Mom said she thought she knew who that might be but didn't name names. Once a woman visited Mom in the hospital in March while Gord was there. In fact, she drove into town with him. Mom gazed at her in a peculiar and questioning way and looked back and forth between them as Gord talked to the woman. I thought, That was the woman! She was so very comfortable with Gord as they exchanged information between them. She, too, ewas a woman who loved to chat. Later in private when Mom asked me, What do you thin of her? I said to Mom, There's no dead air around that woman!
Mom was so sick in February that she would say to me, Your Dad this, and your Dad that--referring to Gord. Usually I let it go as she thought she was talking to Sonya or Shirley at the time. But one day I said to her, Gord is not my Dad. My father is pushing up daisies, Mom. She kind of smiled knowingly. She didn't make that reference again. Gord was never a father figure to me and I said as much to Shirley and Sonya, in a nice way.
Reactions to Dying
My uncle, John, periodically visited Mom and took each of the caregivers out for a day to recharge her batteries. He understood that looking after someone who is ill is a very demanding job. During this time, Sonya began to organize the family photos into "ours" and "yours." "Yours" included all Mom's old pictures before she married Gord. Sonya gave me a box of those pictures. She also began planning the picture that would be used on the church announcements after Mom's death. She brought a pamphlet into the house that described the "stages" that a dying person goes through. The pamphlet was troubling to me. Gord seemed to be resigned to Mom's gradual demise and said she was eating less and less and going downhill steadily. Shirley felt death was imminent. I felt that we should take each day as it happened without anticipating the worst and perhaps, hoping for the best. Early in 2002, the N's visited the hospice facilities in Penticton and talked about Mom being cared for there. The hospice was available for the last week of a person's life. Rarely did the N's seek or want my input. Any decision-making was done without me unless I brought something up myself. The N's were girding themselves for Mom's death; I was looking forward to spending each day with her while she was alive.
Changes in Attitude
Gord had always treated me respectfully and kindly in the many years that I have known him (since 1965). We talked about his trips when he was in the military and other everyday types of things. I knew we had a good relationship--not a father/daughter one, I didn't need or want that, but a good rapport. But gradually during my visit in February 2002, i noticed he began to change: I flet that the began to dislike me. I mentioned this change to Sonya and Shirley, but Sonya said it was just his reaction to Mom's illness. Gord at one time said that I was a member of the family, but he never made me feel accepted as such.
For most of February, there were three people, sometimes including Sonya, looking after Mom. My cousins also visited during that time. One day Gord became very upset because the fridge was full of leftovers partly put there because of the increased company. His anger was directed to the cook, who happened to be me. I assured him the leftovers would be used up the next day.
My attitude changed towards him also. One day Gord turned off the oxygen tank because he thought Mom didn't need any more oxygen. I asked Shirley to ask Gord to turn it back on because Mom couldn't do that herself. I heard him roar at his daughter in the bedroom when she asked, but the oxygen was turned back on. Gord used to stand over the bed while Mom was asleep in the morning and then wake her so she could take her daily hand-full of pills. She said to me that she would rather sleep until she woke naturally. I told Shirley to ask her dad about doing that, but it didn't make any difference. One time Mom told me that it bothered her to wake up in the morning with Gord "looming" over her.
Company
Mom had a lot of visitors in her bedroom during February and March. These included the pastor and his wife, other church members, neighbours, relatives and friends. Some days there would be a steady stream of people going into her bedroom to visit with her. Gord never denied anyone access even when Mom said she was too tired to see anyone. He always gave her the phone when it was for her. People sometimes didn't know when to leave. One couple visited Mom so often that it began to seem rather morbid to me, as though they were saying, So this is what dying looks like! Mom told me that sometimes all this visiting tired her out. She would say that when I was there she didn't have to concentrate on answering visitors' questions. She would occasionally aske me to tell visitors that she was too tired for company.
On the other hand, the day that the Millers came and played guitar and accordion music and sang for her in the bedroom lifted her spirits immensely. She loved that music and she was noticeable more contented and less depressed after their visits.
Melissah, my brother Vernon's daughter, came to visit Mom so Mom could see her first great granddaughter, Mia Lu, on her side of the family. Earlier, Mom had given me money for plane fare and I used it to help pay for Melissah's trip from Montreal to see her grandmother. During the ride from the airport, Sonya told Melissah that she could take over caring for her Grandmother when she and Shirley left. She explained in detail what her duties would be. I thought that was rude but never said anything at the time. Melissah was a guest in the house, not a care worker. Besides she had a seven-month-old baby to take care of.
On March 5, both Shirley and Sonya suddenly decided to leave, each in her own vehicle. Gord told me he was going to fill Shirley's car with gas before she left for home.
I was surprised that they left so suddenly as Mom wasn't noticeably improving. Sonya told the care worker to leave the bedroom and spent about an hour with Mom saying her goodbyes. She came out of the bedroom with tears in her eyes. I imagined that she thought she would never see Mom alive again. Then both Shirley and Sonya left for home. After Sonya's departure, Mom said that she thought Sonya was making a mountain out of a molehill showing so little consideration for the care worker by monopolizing the bedroom while she said her long drawn-out goodbye!
Mom added that she wondered who was going tyo cry out her eyes and carry on the most after she died. Unfortunately, I never found out for her.
However, I did find out that Shirley left--immediately after Mom paid her for her caregiving services!
posted by Joyce | 3:21 PM
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