Mom ended up at my house for 2½ years. Sweet, sweet times I will cherish until my own demise! We set her up in a small apartment we have at one end of our house. I moved my studio out of the bedroom and turned it back into a bedroom. My drawing board and computer came out into the living area and was set up so that Mom and I could spend our days together.
Needless to say, that’s when I began falling behind on work and blogs and website updates. I pushed hard, and even kept up for a while, but it was hopeless. By March of 2024, I stopped completely. It made me sad, because I surely was enjoying the work. I didn’t want my website to sit idle and neglected. But after 40+ years, I had my Mom back! I tried to work, but if she wanted to chat, I chatted!! I knew I’d never have that chance again, and it wasn’t going to pass me by!
In December of 2024, a week before Christmas, she fell and broke her hip. After a couple of months at Grady, we brought her home to Elizabeth’s house. Elizabeth has a caregiver’s heart, and she had done this before. Between Elizabeth’s excellent care and some terrific hospice staff, Mom was well taken care of.
Elizabeth worked 3 days a week, so I got to spend time with mom on those days. We continued our chats, though they got stranger and sparser as the weeks and her cognitive abilities slipped away.
Mom passed away in June.
Her funeral was a true celebration ... she was at rest, reunited with Dad and our 2 brothers.
Elizabeth and I had closure. We got to stand in a public space with friends and family and tell our story ... what kind of awesome God answers prayers in such lavish ways? How does He manage to redeem and restore broken relationships and decades of pain, seemingly just like that?
And what a testimony Mom has ... that an abused 14 year old could not only escape the abuse, but have the strength to break that cycle and send her own family down a better path. She was stronger than she knew.
Our life was good, but not perfect. All the pain she carried would spill out at times, and we had our share of tension and turmoil. Still, she and Dad shielded us from bad situations and gave us a steady and safe homelife. They took us to church, and Elizabeth and I both were saved at young ages. Having that good foundation and having Christ in our lives is what carried us through those 40+ hard years of separation.
The aftermath has been strange for me. My first thought was, Oh! I can go back to all that drawing and writing! But it's been all these months and I just can't seem to get going. It makes me want to cry, seeing all those absent blogs ... 19 months since my last blog in March 2024. I don't regret the interruption one bit ... I will forever treasure memories of these past 3 years. And my brain absolutely knows that all I have to do is simply begin again, but my heart just isn't in it.
I keep telling myself that I'm not grieving, because I don't really feel sad ... I feel more like we all had a victory! Writing these first blogs is making me realize, that maybe what's happening is that I'm still trying to process it all ... even on a subconcious level. I suppose that, too, is a form of grieving, even if I'm not consciously sad.
So while I was processing all of this, I got dealt another blow ... and this time it HURT ...
When Mom came to live with us, she brought 2 cats, Squirt and Patty. My husband is allergic to cats, but it wasn't a problem, we just kept the door to the apartment closed to keep the cats contained.
Squirt and Patty were a hoot! Squirt is a lover boy. His sole purpose for existing is to get petted all the time. If you don't give him attention, he will sit at your feet, looking up and begging with the most pitiful little mews you've ever heard come out of a 15 pound cat! If he doesn't get what he wants, he'll wander off for a nap, but just wait 20 minutes. He'll be back.
Little Patty was a tiny gray tabby. She barely weighed 5 lbs. She stayed at mom's side 24/7. They slept together at night, and spent days together on the couch reading and watching TV. Patty allowed me to bond with her a bit, but Mom was definitely her person.
We were all doing fine together, until the day Mom fell and left our house, never to return. Patty did not handle that well.
The cats were mostly alone in the months after that. They were alone all night for sure. During the day I would be gone to the hospital, or over at Elizabeth's sitting with Mom. Patty lost weight until her bones stuck out. She ate, but she'd throw it up everyday. I took her to the vet, but of course they didn't find anything. Grief doesn't show up in a blood test. They gave her meds for the nausea, but they were just barely effective.
I knew exactly what was wrong, but at a loss about how to help. The days when I could be home, I stayed in the apartment as much as possible. I spent evenings stretched out on the couch, watching movies while they lay on me. I tried sleeping in the bedroom with them a few nights, but they were always jockying for my attention. Then one morning I woke up with Patty upchucking 6 inches from my head ... this wasn't going to work. I needed my rest to get me through the long days with mom. I went back to my own bed, but that was hard, too.
One Sunday night in early October, the cats and I were doing our usual movie night-time cuddle on the couch. But Patty didn't stay. She got down and went to lay in the bedroom doorway. Some time passed and she hadn't returned, which was not her normal pattern. When I checked on her, I could tell she was dying. I wrapped her in a soft towel and laid her on the bed. Lights and TV got turned off and I laid down beside her until morning when the vet would open.
Our sweet Patty could not survive her broken heart.