What My Mother Gave Me

I am in the midst of a book titled "What My Mother Gave Me" or "Thirty-one Women on the Gifts That Mattered Most".  I started this book almost 4 months ago and it has probably been renewed about 5 times from the library, apparently it does not have a high demand on it. It is not one to be read quickly, I ponder and reflect each short thought about the effect mothers have on their daughters.  Some refer to material gifts such as a photograph or cake pan, some gave a love for cooking or a green thumb; but all and all it wasn't really the gift as much as what was thought about or remembered or learned.

My mother affected my life also.  I have wondered what I would say she gave me as in the same vein of the book.  I often say my mom taught me to sew or cook or garden.  I have built part of my life around these gifts.  I have always delighted in sewing from sewing my own clothes in high school to  a unlined suit for my dad to my wedding dress to my children's play clothes to Aimee's prom dresses to baby clothes for my grandchildren.  My yard is full of trees, planted by Craig and I, a small vegetable garden that grows a little more each yard always with a tomato plant or two, and constant supply of flowers needing replacement each season.  Now I even coauthor a cooking blog with my daughter Aimee, sharing family recipes and discovering new ones.  These skills showcase part of me.

My mother encouraged reading and gave me the love of books.  She read to my brothers, sister, and me regular family favorites like "Where the Red Fern Grows" and other books but "Red Fern" is the only title I can recall.  She enrolled me in a book of the month club, the Happy Hollister family mysteries.  Sometimes she said I read too much, hiding out in trees with my book instead of doing my chores.  I read from day one to my children although out their childhood and even into their adolescence. A book is one of my most treasured gifts to receive or give or read whether to myself or my grandchildren now.

My mother taught school for 30 years and I received my degree in Elementary Education as did my sister and brother.  My favorite responsibility of all times is to teach whether it be early morning seminary for 8 years or young women which I currently do.  The ability to have to influence someone's life with learning is a great joy and blessing.  Just the other day I received a note from a young man I taught 10 years ago thanking me for my service and example.

I believe if I really wanted to share what my mother gave me, it was being able to say goodbye.  To explain this I have to let you know that my father died when I was 26 years old.  I was living in California at the time and my parents still lived in the home I grew up in in Shelley, Idaho.  My father became sick and was in kidney failure, passing away within a couple of weeks in the hospital. Whether it was my own denial of how sick he really was or not recognizing the messages that I needed to go to Idaho to say goodbye, I didn't get or take the chance to say goodbye.  That was almost 28 years ago and I never really got over that not forgiving myself and or in actuality my mom for not plainly saying your dad is dying

But I was able to say goodbye to my mom before her death. You see my mother was diagnosed with acute myleiod leukemia in December 2012 and died from it in August 2013.  I can still recall the phone call at work that almost floored me from her telling me she was in the hospital and the doctors say she has leukemia.  I made my way to Idaho by plane, bus, and van over 12 hours to be with her and care for her the following day arriving around midnight on Saturday.  I spent the next several days with her in the Idaho Falls Hospital and making arrangements to bring her to California to live with me and seeing that she received the care needed for a few extra moments or months with her.  Not knowing how long that would be or what would be necessary.  I packed a few suitcases with her belongings for a few weeks and left what else to be mailed or returned to.  She never was able to return to her home in this lifetime.

Over the next few months, daily regular trips to UCSD Thornton Hospital and Morris Cancer Center were our lives.  Mom spent several weeks in the hospital, even through Christmas and New Year's.  My sister and her family came in, my son and his family, my daughter and her husband - although they made their way in on her 2nd stay at the hospital over President's Day.  Life was blood withdrawals and blood tests, blood transfusions, chemo therapy, and home infusions.  I learned the route from Fallbrook to Morris Cancer Center so well I could do it in my sleep which I may have sometimes.  Drive after drive, 1 hour each direction, when either Mom and I would just talk about her past or what might lie ahead.  I asked questions of her growing up years, how she met my dad, her days in college, about her gifts and skills, and about dying - her fears, reservations, concerns.  She kept saying she wasn't ready to die, she wanted to see each of her grandchildren one more time.  We knew the AML was going to take her life eventually, but how soon was the unknown.

At home, we brought in cut flowers for her enjoyment, gave her a small plot of ground to plant, pots for more flowers, and argued over what to plant and where.  I finally took her shopping for a new bed over the old "came with the home bed" she had been sleeping in.  Craig flew up to Idaho in March and with my cousins' help packed up her home, and moved her belongings to our home depositing several goods and treasures in Utah at grandchildren's homes and in Arizona at my sister's.  We were starting to settle in.

The time came where mom felt well enough for a few weekend trips around the area.  We spent one weekend visiting Hollywood and Getty Villa, other trips to Huntington Library, Cabrilla National Monument, and San Diego Bay Fireworks.  What a treat it was to show her beautiful California and enjoy being together.  We had settled into our own, a relationship of love and kindness and caring and fun times finally. 

But then she fell ill again.  You see she had been doing chemo therapy 1 week on and 3 weeks off since January.  Her body was responding well to it, well in the sense the leukemia was waning but not well in that she was losing hair, feeling nauseous, and losing strength.  We decided to take one month off from the treatment and that was one month too much.  The leukemia came back with a vengeance, exploding all throughout her blood causing fevers and weakness.  We drove back to the hospital a couple of times with long stays, anything over a few hours was too long, but the medical workers were afraid to send her home out into the world of germs.  With leukemia your body has no way of fighting off infections, even with the slightest temperature I was told to take mom to the nearest emergency room.

She grew tired of it, tired of staying in the hospital isolated from family, lousy food - at least that is how she felt about it - weak, tired, and just wanting to be home.  We finally took her home from the hospital one last time, she begged/requested me not to take her back to the hospital.  I knew what that meant.

Monday morning I called her doctor letting them know we/she wanted to be put on hospice care.  Describing her desire, her weakness, her grayness, her doctors understood the need and within moments we received our first phone call from Fallbrook Home and Hospice Care. Within a couple of hours we received our first visit from them too.  The timing was right because of all the necessary visits; hospice doctors, nurses, health care providers, and pastor that took all week long to fit in, there wasn't time for anymore.  Oxygen was ordered, pain relief medicine was received, and support was given and understanding of the path to death came to be.

Mom spent the next few days in her bed on this earth.  Her ability or desire to eat disappeared. I fed her a few favorite treats such as cantaloupe supporting her from the back with my arms wrapped around her and delivering the tiny morsels to her mouth.  Eventually that was gone too, then just minimal sips of water to salve off the mouth dryness.  Sadly, the last few days with her strength gone that meant wearing adult diapers and subjecting oneself to being cared for like a newborn baby.  Speaking was too hard, too draining, her final communication was nods of yes and no and expressive eyes.  I tried to understand and ask only questions that could be answered as such.  I tried to make her comfortable,  I held her, hugged her, kissed her, and told her I loved her.  I held the phone to her ears numerous times so she could hear the loving voices of her distant family.  And we spoke of heaven, of dad waiting for her, of being reunited with my brothers Curtis and Greg, and her parents, brothers, and sister.  When the time was right, I invited Dad to come and guide her.  He did along with her sister, Verna, the morning of August 9, 2013.

It really isn't a final goodbye; just an earthly goodbye.  But it was a gift of closure and life to me too.

Gains, Gifts, Insights

You know that saying "be careful what you wish for, you just might get it."  On my morning walk I realized it has come true for me.  A few months back I was thinking, wishing, praying to be more giving and now I have that blessing.  I get to be more giving and caring for my mom.  I don't believe Heavenly Father gave my mom leukemia to make my prayer come true, I think He was preparing my heart for the time when I needed to really put it into action.

Mom starts her 2nd round of chemo today, they are everyday for a week.  I was really hoping the appointments would be later so I could still enjoy my morning walks.  Well, I got the schedule and every appointment is after 2 or later, like 4.  Yes, that means we come home in traffic but I STILL get to go on my morning walks. (Bonus - we get to use the carpool lanes and we are zipping by most of the cars for a good 1/3 or more of the drive)  I love my walks, they are a time of phone calls to family and friends, peaceful reflection, listening to podcasts, and just the right exercise I need.

Tuesday, mom had another blood transfusion and it has given her a burst of energy.  I love it because she wants to and is able to do some of the good old regular things for herself.  She was calling away on her phone to do a lot of her change of addresses, reading books again, folding her own laundry, etc.  Each one of those activities had been on hold for a couple of weeks because of the weariness she had been feeling but to take those on again allows me a joy to see her "working" and "being busy", while I am also able to find time to do some of the things I had been putting on hold.  Does that sound selfish?  I hope not, I think it is good for her to feel productive and yes for me to feel it too.

Mom doesn't get to go outside much anymore and I know the garden is one of her favorite things.  To make it feel more outdoorsy I decided to buy a bouquet of flowers as often as needed.  Bonus for me because I get to enjoy the flowers indoors too and have always thought if I have the money I am going to have fresh flowers all the time in my home.  The decision to budget for this right now is a good thing. 

Not a sniffle or ache anywhere; so far I have been healthy.  Really healthy.  I know this is a blessing and gift because I can't be sick and help mom.  I can't be sick because I could give her my infection.  I keep thanking my Heavenly Father everyday I am feeling healthy and keep praying that it will continue.

I have the best family in the world.  Craig just jumps in and does things that I had been regularly doing around the house, he just notices them and takes care of them.  Anthony and Jana and Aimee are available to talk to and just share with them.  It is so wonderful to feel this love and support.  I know a lot of prayers have been said on our behalf and I can feel their strength, support, and blessings.

All this is really good. REALLY GOOD!

My mom has leukemia

I saw this on Facebook, "Don' t let your struggles become your identity."  That reads easier than it is.  My mom was diagnosed with leukemia less than one month ago but it seems or I have let it become my life.  Aimee even mentioned yesterday that I said our home health care nurse, and she reminded me that it was grandma' s nurse not mine. My response it seems like we are one and the same sometimes.  I imagine that is why a simple walk yesterday that used to be my life was wonderful AND mopping the floor, a task that may seem mundane but it represented my life before Dec. 14.

How to reconcile who I am, who mom is, and her cancer and that it is just something we have to do, deal with, and, yes, it is a part of us but it is not us.  She had been in the hospital for 3 weeks, daily traveling and visits almost consumed me. Relief came with moving her from Idaho to San Diego and I could go to my own home, sleep in my own bed, and feel loving support from Craig.  More support was welcomed when Anthony, Jana, and Zoe came; beautiful, beautiful support! But a different experience this year compared to last year.  A small Christmas celebration and just a few simple quiet moments at home, although we did get a visit to the beach.  We have to do that, it is tradition and traditions are more important than imagined.  They build, develop, and strengthen you and life and memories.  Traditions are an essential part of building your identity; good, loving traditions.

 More relief and a moment of normalcy came when Katherine and family came.  Katherine stayed with mom at the hospital while I played an afternoon away at the San Diego Zoo with her family.  I loved seeing the animals, and delighted in seeing the lions and reindeer in particular.  A simple thing but it was aside from where I had been and will be again.  But a triple bonus came when Katherine and Desi stay at my home for 3 days and held down the fort, taking care of our mom at the hospital, and taking care of Marta, our lovely Italian foreign exchange student, and friend.  Craig and I traveled to freezing Utah for our niece, Lecia' s sealing to Justin.  How lovely it was to be in the temple, watching another eternal family being created and watching it be bound to our big eternal family. The beautiful celebration and amazing love and support from all our Garrett family.  This family is all a part of me, who I am, what I know, and feel and believe.  Being a part of family is a great worth, and me.  I know they all understand and our patient with me but I desire to be aware of them too, be with them too, share, laugh, chat with them too.  They are me too.

The first thing that is often spoken to me is "how is you mom?"  I share, maybe too much. But what do you really say, what do people really want to hear.  How my mom is, is that how I am?  Perhaps it tells a little about me, how I am doing, coping and bearing up.  But I need to learn it is not me, it is just the moment.  It may be what  I am doing in my life now, but memo to self it is not me.

We travel 3 times a week to Moore's Cancer Infusion Center for blood testing, visit once a week with her care provider, mom receives transfusions of blood and or platelets sometimes, she has home health care providers checking on her, giving a bath, and physical therapy twice a week. She was receiving an iv of antibiotics 3 times a day administered by me, that ended last night. And some days we actually have nothing to do.  This is what we do, but this is not me or her.

My mom is a beautiful person, she is an amazing teacher, she is a homemaker, she is a terrific, dedicated gardener, great mother, grandmother, and great- grandmother to her bloodline children and to friends' and neighbors' children and to nephews' and nieces' children. Mom is an admirer of ocean waves, napkin user, and Kleenex hoarder. She is a adventurer.  She is a daughter of our Heavenly Father who loves her and she desires to be with Him again.  She is a seamstress, cook  and conveyor of skills and talents.  She is a farm girl and world traveler.  She is a conscientious person of self, a shopper, and a saver. She is a reader of books and magazines.  She is a giver of love.

I am a wife, mother, grandmother, and daughter.  I am a caregiver, hiker, and traveler.  I am a teacher, letter writer, and cook.  I am a blogger, facebooker and pinterest follower.  I am a seamstress and lover of photography.  I am a reader and a walker.  I am a changeling and learner.  I am a testifier and encourager.

But we are not our challenges, we are not despair, we are hope.