My Mom Died This Morning - A True Story

My Mom died in October of 2001.  I've shared the story of the day she died with some but I decided to write this poem, or prose, or whatever you might call it.  

My Mom Died This Morning - A True Story

My mom died this morning

A more positive person you’d never met

At times, a difficult life of poverty and domestic violence

But through hard work and perseverance

She created security and great love

If you’d asked her she would have said her life was beautiful

And she was right

Never one to dwell on the negative

Her vivaciousness, wit, understanding, and laughter

Is what everyone always remembers about her

My siblings and I spent the night at the hospital

Knowing it was the end

Wanting to be there for a few last hours with her

She talked about her theory that when you die

You become whatever age you were the most happy during your life

I pictured her running up the big hill at my grandparents’ house

Pigtails flying, followed by any number of her 9 siblings

Headed for the big oak tree that was her steed

Her fort, her Mt. Everest, or her ship,

Whatever her fancy may have been that day

Just as the sun was rising

Her own beautiful star extinguished

All that was left, and it was much,

Was the light and laughter that was her memory

Never being one who could cry at the appropriate time

I sat there feeling empty and alone amongst a crowd of tears

I knew I had to get away and be alone with my loss

I drove home and loaded my kayak onto my car

The unseasonably warm October morning with bright sun and blue skies

Belying the tragedy of the day

A five minute drive to the river

I was relieved that the early hour guaranteed my solitude

Paddling downriver against the incoming tide

You’d think I was being pursued by a monster

Tears finally flowing, leaving a wake of despair

Stopping exhausted next to shore

I looked up and saw a beautiful bald eagle

Perched in a tree not 20 feet above

Staring down at me with a hint of concern

What can be so sad on this day the Lord has given us

He seemed to ask

So I told him of my loss

Of the feeling of becoming an orphan

Of being abandoned

No matter that I was almost 50 years old

We sat there and talked for 20 minutes

Though not a word was spoken

His understanding and compassion

Allowed the tears to flow without feeling pitiful or silly

Finally I thanked him for listening and started off again on my paddle

Peacefully at first but as the sadness returned

The paddling once more became frantic and obsessed

Again, I pulled up next to shore to rest under an overhanging tree

And as I did, much to my surprise, the eagle landed just above me

I couldn’t help but smile through my tears

And welcome him back

I shared with him memories of long talks

Of funny stories, of sad times, and beautiful moments

We laughed and cried

And gave thanks to the universe

For kindness, for adversities, and complex relationships

Again, I thanked him for listening

And slowly and more peacefully

Continued on my way downstream against the tide

I paddled hard and fast and steady for quite some time

But with much less distress than I’d been feeling before

The sun was beating down harshly at this point

The heat of the day at its peak

So the shady cove beckoned me

I pulled over and closed my eyes

Welcoming the relief from the sun

I splashed some water onto my face

And hearing a noise, glanced upwards and burst into laughter

To see my now old friend perched up above

He seemed relieved to hear my mirth

As if it signaled I was back to my old self

The woman who was the daughter my mother produced

Sensing all was well

He lifted off from his branch

And with grace and majesty

He soared down the middle of the river

Until he was just a dot that disappeared

Into the horizon

Suddenly exhaustion overcame me

The sleepless night, the deep emotions and the physical exertion

All came together

And I was grateful to allow the incoming tide

To gently bring me back

Bring me back to my less than perfect but oh so glorious life

To the guilt that every mother feels when she’s put her own needs

Before the needs of her family

To a husband who was also dying

And had only a few months left to live

To three teenage sons who were sad at the loss

Of a grandmother they were very close to

But I’ll be forever grateful for that October day

That I spent with my eagle friend

Thank you Mom for sending him to me

Once again, you knew just what I needed

So if you’re ever with me

And an eagle appears

You’ll know why I look at it with love

And say, “Hi Mom.”

This poem contributed to dVersePoets Open Link Night.

Mocked

Our eyes met across the crowded room

By the end of the look

We knew we’d be spending the night together

By the end of the night

We knew we’d be spending our lives together

The tumor laughed at our plans

Mocked our passion

Instead of ripping you from my arms

Leaving me sobbing and beaten

It took you bit by bit

Until in the end

Your death was my relief

And it was guilt that crushed me

And now I sit alone on our porch

The one you built for us to grow old upon

A bird call startles me out of my reverie

No doubt a mockingbird.

This poem contributed to
dVersePoets Open Link Week #9

Dan

Dan with our first son, Justin.

Today is the seventh anniversary of my late husband's death. It may sound odd, but I always look back on it thinking, "it was a good death," as far as deaths go. It was back in 2002, just a few months after 9/11 when so many families sent their loved ones off to work, never to see them again.

I remember thinking how lucky we were to have time to do all the things we needed to do, say all the things we needed to say.

He had been diagnosed with a brain tumor back in 1992. The doctors gave him 18 months, tops, to live, had he taken the standard chemotherapy the oncologist recommended. Instead, after surgery Dan decided to try some clinical trials out of Tufts University and sure enough, two years later, the tumor was unnoticeable on a CAT scan. The doctors were amazed and were sure the original diagnosis must have been incorrect because they'd never known anyone to survive that long. We didn't really care, we were just grateful that he felt good, was able to do the things he enjoyed, as well as continue his career as an electrical engineer.

We put it behind us and moved on with the business of living our lives and bringing up our three sons. It was always there in the background that the tumor could return but it had little negative impact on our daily lives. The boys went from 3, 5, and 8, to 13, 15, and 18, before it did return; so they were given the gift of growing up with, and getting to know their Dad. I'm sure they would have had very little memory of him had we lost him as the doctors originally predicted, back in the early 90s.

But come early September 2001, the tumor returned. I thought he was having a stroke one morning and called an ambulance. He went into a coma as I discussed our options with his doctors, and decided to try some chemo. The doctors said the tumor was too deep to do surgery this time.

The chemo worked, though we anticipated that it would only be effective very short term. This time they predicted less than six months.

Dan never completely came back at that point. He came home and was able to enjoy is day to day existence, though his cognitive abilities were substantially diminished. He enjoyed being in the house with the boys running around, lots of visitors - friends, family, and church members. He had a wonderful Hospice volunteer who'd take him shopping or out for coffee or lunch. You had to be kind of careful because he might stoll off on his own or get it into his mind that he was going to drive. But never in a cantankerous way; he was always good natured and easy going about it.

A few weeks before his death we had a hospital bed delivered and he spent the last couple of weeks in it, with great home care through hospice. The night he died his brother Peter and Peter's wife, Laurie, were there with me. We knew it was time and we had some old home movies of the kids playing on the tv while I held his hand and Laurie and Peter and I talked. The boys came in occasionally, and each spent a few minutes alone with him. Dan's church group had been over earlier in the evening with their guitars and tambourines and had sang and played music for him. He was unconscious but I swear I saw him tapping his foot at one point.

I think it was about two a.m. that he finally let go. His hospice nurse had been there until about 10 and she came right back when I called and made the phone call to the funeral home we had prearranged.

The family - his seven siblings and spouses, and his Mom and Dad - gathered with us the next day to support each other and to remember the fun times.

It seemed his death came too early - at just 53 years old. But it was in peaceful and loving surroundings. I think that's the best any of us can hope for when our time comes.