The bleak midwinter

She looked up at me, between the wires that criss-crossed her chest and arms, and said, "You're the writer in the family. Write a book about me."

"About what, mama?

"About why I'm here," she said, the monitor beeping in the background, the liquid dripping into her veins, the glaze in her eyes coming and going, coming and going. 

"Write a book about why they have me in here," she said again.

And that was one of the more coherent things mom said all week, a couple of days after being diagnosed with having suffered a heart attack sometime in the last 10 days. Dialysis patients, we have been told, suffer something called silent heart attacks. And so that is what happened to her. So you can add that to the list along with the leukemia, the diabetes, the immobility, the damned disgraces of Alzheimers. And the just-discovered Parkinson's Disease. As if mama needed an additional indignity right about now.

Mom's a mess.

The worst part has nothing to do with that. The worst part, we are told, is that her body has begun to reject dialysis, her blood pressure is dropping to stupid levels like 40 over 30, so low that doctors say that in two or three weeks, she will no longer be able to handle dialysis, so they will unhook her.

In the days immediately following the decision to take mom off dialysis, she will become more and more tired, sleeping more each day, and disorientation will increase as her blood turns into a stream of poison. One day, she will drift off to sleep, and she will stay that way. It is, we are told by the medical professionals, a ... let me see if I can get this straight ... a "good way to die." No pain. Drift off. No pain. Sleep. Comfortable. No pain. Gone.

Thanks seems an odd word to use just now, but I suppose we are grateful that God allowed us a few days visitation this week instead of just taking her away in an instant. Could've been a heart attack. An accident. How do those families deal with the suddenness of death where there is no chance to bid farewell, how I have loved you, thank you? Here one minute. Not here the next. How do you handle that?

We have called her mama for all of life, and so that is who she is. Not many mamas left. There are moms and mothers. The more formal choices. Mama is so old school, but she really could never be a mom. She is mama. Always will be.

In the last week, she has drifted in and out of lucidity, mostly out. But she has broke through the clouds of dementia a time or two and has come out with some real gems.

"I don't want to die," she said. "But if it happens, I guess I'll have to." Good ol' mama ... always doing what's expected of her. Right up to the end.

"Is there any hope?" She asked my dad at one point. And so he told her "There is always ... hope." And he told us that was his answer to her as he wiped away the sadness from his eyes and face.

And then there was this one. "Everyone's here. I must be pretty bad."

And then the clouds would build, and she would say other things. Like on Tuesday, when she looked me square in the eyes and said, "Is Jimmy coming? When is Jimmy coming?"

Mama is dying. Some time in the next couple or three weeks, barring one of those things called a miracle, she'll leave here. Leave us. Leave my dad. And go to that proverbial better place.

No pain. Comfort. No pain. Gone. Just gone.

And after we cry. We will smile again. One day. Someday.

-- Jimmy Patterson

Comments

[jim]

God be gracious to you and yours, and to your dear mother.

[chris Muir]

I lost my Mom last year...all you can do is your best, and be there for her.

The one thing that helps me is that soon enough, I'll be wherever she is.

Be strong for her.

[Barry Pike]

I'm very sorry, Jimmy. And I so admire you for the wisdom, the love, and the poetry that you have woven so artfully and tenderly into this post.

As I've gotten older I've often mused on the immutability of certain things, specific meaningful moments in life that are constant from generation to generation. Such moments are portals that transcend our technology, our cultural distinctives, our professional aspirations, our personal attainments, and whatever else it is we think that makes us different or better than those who have walked before us. Like the aging and, eventually, the death of my parents. Like the maturing of my son and the normal, but painful, separation that occurs as he is becoming his own man. Like the time in the (hopefully) distant future when he, too, will be considering the circumstances and meaning of the impending end of my earthly life. Some things are more real than other things.

Soon enough, though, we WILL all be together with our loved ones who have passed on before us. And forever is "a mighty long time". And that is the comfort with which I encourage you in this tough time. Blessings to you and yours, my friend.

[Eric]

Jimmy, I'm getting over here late but I want to add my prayers and blessings to those already offered. These mortal bodies we've been given were designed with some built-in "planned obsolescence" because the Maker has better things for us in the eternity Barry alludes to above. It's really hard on those of us left behind, but that is temporary as well. May God grant you and your family strength and peace, and your mother the grace of peaceful healing, in whatever form He deems best.

[Phyllis Hilburn]

I'm an appreciative reader from the MRT, only made aware of your cyber writing by Eric.

Your written expressiveness will help others and you in the days ahead. Your mama knows that. May God continue to sustain you and may you and yours experience His peace and comfort in ways you may never have known before.

[Phyllis]

"In the Bleak Midwinter" is one of my favorite carols.

[Rachel]

I too popped over here because of Eric.

I have sent a prayer your way during this difficult time of waiting. Just remember to cleave to God and put one step in front of the other until you don't have to think about it anymore.

[Jimmy]

I remain grateful to everyone for their kind words, prayers and well-wishes.

[sinalco]

Jim,

I'm praying that God will give your mom and you and your family peace. The best thing you can do for your mom now is just to be with her.

--Denise

[The Eurasian]

Jimmy. All of us want your mama to end up in heaven. The following are things you can do to help her get there.

1. She needs to FORGIVE. In the OUR FATHER, taught to us by JESUS, we say to the Father, "FORGIVE US AS WE FORGIVE THOSE WHO TRESPASS AGAINST US....

2. Sacramentals can forgive venial sins but not mortal sins. Holy water is a sacramental. The Rosary is a sacramental. PRIESTS CANNOT BE AT THE SIDE OF YOUR MAMA 24 HOURS A DAY. So, always have have some holy water there. You might be able to cause the forgiveness of her venial sins at the very last moments if there is no priest.

3. The rosary too is a sacramental. God listens to the prayers of holy people who keep the commandments. Mary is holier than all the angels combined. She is holiest next to Jesus Christ. Jesus prayed for Peter!!! Jesus prayed on the cross saying, "FATHER, FORGIVE THEM FOR THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO." So ASK JESUS, MARY, ST.JOSEPH, the Saints and saints, the martyrs, prophets to pray for your mama.

4. Ask the priest to give her Confession, Communion, EXTREME UNCTION.

5. THAT HOLY COMMUNION SHE TAKES WILL BE HER "VIATICUM", FOOD FOR HER HEAVENLY JOURNEY.

6. IT IS IMPORTANT TO KNOW AHEAD OF TIME WHICH OF THE CATHOLIC PRIESTS HERE WILL PERFORM "I THINK
EXTREME UNCTION", IN THE IMMEDIATE HOURS OR MINUTES AFTER THE PERSON DIES.

Some Catholic priests will not do it after the person dies.

Other Catholic priests will give extreme unction in the hour or even few hours after the person dies, BECAUSE ONE EXPLANATION IS THAT THE SOUL STILL LINGERS THERE IN THE MINUTES OR HOUR OR EVEN FEW HOURS AFTER THE PERSON DIES.

In my opinion (not the Catholic Church'), the person is dead, but certainly some of his cells are still alive. In fact the person will still be warm.

7. In the private revelations to Sister Faustina Kowalska, Jesus taught her to pray the CHAPLET OF THE DIVINE MERCY. Here, we offer to the FATHER the BODY, BLOOD, SOUL, DIVINITY OF CHRIST in atonement for our sins and the sins of the whole world.

Jesus appeared to Sister Faustina hundreds of times. Pope John Paul was the Bishop of Krakow Poland who investigated her. And Pope John Paul II died on the Vigil of DIVINE MERCY SUNDAY. I think Sister Faustina died at age 33, same age as Jesus Christ. There must be something to this that is why these things happen at their deaths. If I am not mistaken, she is now ST. FAUSTINA KOWALSKA.

Well, one time Sister Faustina suddenly found herself instantly transported to the bedside of a sick man with many devils. The man was in agony. Sister Faustina prayed all sorts of prayers that she knew, BUT TO NO AVAIL. THEN SHE REMEMBERED THE CHAPLET OF THE DIVINE MERCY. SHE PRAYED IT, "HOLY GOD, HOLY IMMORTAL ONE, I OFFER THEE THE BODY, BLOOD, SOUL, DIVINITY OF YOUR ONLY BEGOTTEN SON OUR LORD JESUS CHRIST IN ANTONEMENT FOR OUR SINS AND THE SINS OF THE WHOLE WORLD...." AND THE DEVILS FLED, THE MAN CALMED DOWN AND DIED PEACEFULLY.

8. In the Book of Jonah, the Ninivites were doomed. The prophecy of Jonah which was commanded by God for him to annnounce was, "40 days and Niniveh WILL BE DESTROYED."

It was not conditonal. There were NO IFs. Niniveh WILL BE DESTROYED!!!!

Yet, despite the fact that the prophecy was not conditional, but certain, THE KING AND POPULATION OF NINIVEH DID NOT DESPAIR, DID NOT GET ANGRY AT GOD, BUT REPENTED, DID SACRIFICES LIKE WEARING SACKCOTH, THE KING SAT ON THE ASHES INSTEAD OF ON HIS THRONE. And what did God do??? GOD CANCELLED THE PROPHECY!!!! GOD SCOLDED JONAH!!!!

I think the Book of Jonah is a message to us just in case we find ourselves not in heaven. I think it is telling us, DO NOT DESPAIR EVEN IF THEY TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE DOOMED. REPENT INSTEAD, LIKE THE CONDEMNED PEOPLE OF NINIVEH. WHO KNOWS, GOD MIGHT STILL HAVE MERCY ON US AND NOT DESTROY US IF WE REPENT. I believe, even in the other world, we can still do good deeds, like maybe telling our fellow condemned not to get angry at God but to adore God instead.

[Janie]

Jimmy, our prayers and love are with your mom, dad, you and your family. *I don't know the rest of the family, but you and your wife are a living testament to the love and compassion your mom diligently instilled in her family. And in my spirit, I see the Lord smiling over your Mama and saying to her, "Well done, my good and faithful servant."
You all will be in my and Steve's prayers.

[Anita]

My Aunt Betty made me 3 afghans over the years. The first one was a peach one that she gave to my husband and I for our wedding. Peach was one of our wedding colors. The second was a yellow and green large baby afghan that she made for my oldest son went he was born. We didn't want to find out if we were having a boy or a girl; hence the yellow and green color. The third one was a small baby afghan with blue and white squares she made for my second and youngest son when he was born; we knew he was going to be a boy.

Afghans, I image, seem 'old school' to some people. Mine are loved and treasured! They remind me of my Aunt Betty every time I see them. And I see them alot! These are not afghans that were received as a gift and simply stored away in a box somewhere in the top of the closet under the Operation game and behind that shoe box of junk. These are afghans that are loved and used everyday, and have been for over 14 years. They have been washed, dried, folded, and returned to their rightful owner countless times. And they are by far the best made and longest lasting bedding items that I own.

I covered my first born with the yellow and green one as a baby. When he was about one and could choose which blanket to sleep with, he choose the yellow and green afghan. He always love to put his fingers through the holes when he slept; it was a source of comfort. This afghan originally had fringe on it, but he asked me one day to take them off because they bothered him when he slept. And he continued to slept with that afghan until he was about 6. Right about then he discovered the large peach afghan from the family room and claimed it as his own. He has slept with that peach afghan every night since then. He still likes to put his fingers in the holes. His fingers were bigger, so he needed to move up to a bigger afghan. That bigger afghan has fit the bill for many years now, as he turns 13 tomorrow.

By about the time my first son gave up that yellow and green afghan, my younger son was outgrowing his blue and white 'baby' afghan. He needed a more mature afghan, and quickly snatched up that yellow and green hand-me-down. And it continued to keep my child warm through the night. He most recently 'just had' to bring it to Grandma's at Christmas, and we accidentally left it behind. Keep it safe Grandma...we need it...things just aren't right without it.

My 9 month old nephew recently came to spend the night with us. That small blue and white afghan saw some action once again. It was of course easily accessible and quickly fell in line doing it's job. It kept him warm and safe for that night. And that night all 3 of my afghans were in good use keeping babies warm and safe.

Thank you Aunt Betty for all your love and warmth. Your afghans will continue to provide my babies with warmth and safety for years to come, and I will remember you often.

My prayers are thoughts are with you all at this difficult time.