Saturday, April 30, 2011

Tough Times Reveal Character

You learn a great deal about people when things are at their worst.  Folks can surprise you, in ways both good and bad, and that is the parting lesson from my mother's death.  Many of the people who have known me seemingly forever, I am almost ashamed to say "my" people, were virtually non-existent if not outright dismissive or hostile.  Others were exactly as I remember them as a kid - warm, friendly people who would do anything for you.  And a group of former co-workers who had known me for all of 3 1/2 years were far more comforting than I could rightly expect, with e-mails and calls of condolence, even a couple of cards.  It is almost funny; the ones from whom you expect the most do the least, and those with the least connection wind up doing the most.

As services go, I think we gave Mary a nice sendoff.  We did not waller in misery and maudlin overwraught emotion, though my brother broke down a time or two.  Then again, I was there when mom died and he was not, so I had already had the opportunity to get the immediate grief out of my system.  We chose to focus on the happy times, and my bride and step-daughter put together a wonderful collage of a smiling mom that dated back nearly 50 years.  It was nice to see her visibly enjoying the moments captured in those pictures.

It was also nice to see a couple of neighbors from way back, including my first little league coach, a very nice man whose son and I spent a lot of afternoons riding bikes and doing kid stuff.  And, a couple that used to live right next to us came in from Montgomery, great folks whose son was my brother's best friend back in the day.  I think mom would have been happy to see people like that come to remember her.  There were some of dad's faculty friends, people whose kids both of us went to school with and one gentleman who was one of dad's students.  He came in part for himself as his wife is now in year 12 of Alzheimer's; I can honestly say I know how he feels and hope a guardian angel looks out for his and his wife. 

The disappointing aspect came from a few fellow Greeks, not all of them, but some who saw fit to say nasty things about me, my brother, and my wife for the past several months, as though we had conspired to make my mom ill.  My brother's eulogy made mention of us doing the best we could under trying circumstances; I am confident we did that and anyone who disagrees, well, they can kiss our asses.  They have become people I never again have to speak to.  

I hope mom is now at peace, that what my brother and I had to say let her know that we loved her and gave her comfort in knowing she raised two pretty decent men.  I appreciate the old neighbors and friends who came to pay their respects, and the one old friend who called with condolences but was unable to attend due to her husband's failing health.  I hope someone watches over the two of them, too.  I probably shouldn't be surprised, but I was to hear from my old co-workers, a solid group of people whose company I miss and whose reaching out reminds one what friends are all about.  And now we move on, for there is no other option.  It has been the longest of years and now comes a new chapter.  We'll see what it holds.   

Monday, April 25, 2011

The end of the Mary tales

Sometimes, death is a shock and, sometimes, it is a relief.  When my father died about a year ago, there was a suddenness to it that was not expected.  We knew he was going to die; no one escapes cancer forever, but the degree of the downward slope was more severe than anyone thought it would be.  Then came my mother. 

There is a huge gulf between physical deterioration and the non-physical kind.  The latter is especially nasty business, watching a loved one gradually lose the ability to do just about everything independently while slowly fading away from the world they knew.  The only variable is how long the fade process takes.  By the time the end comes, the person you knew has long since left this earth and when their final breath is let out, there is a bit of sadness but, bad as it may sound, there is mostly relief.  Relief certainly for the individual, who not too long ago, was also aware of what was happening and not too happy about it.  And relief for everyone else.

When that loved one no longer remembers who you are, who your siblings are, who your children are, who her husband was, and has reverted to early childhood remembering only her own immediate family, it is fair to say the individual is no longer with you.  And so it is.  And that is the end of the maudlin portion of this. 

In looking back at old pictures, I am going to remember a woman who enjoyed life, enjoyed her kids and friends, enjoyed going back to the old country and rekindling old relationships, and enjoyed her husband.  I will remember a woman who not only had an opinion on just about everything but also believed that you were entitled to it.  If mom's life were a book, it would have to be called "The Last Word" because no matter the discussion, she was going to get it.  I like to say that at least one my kids has inherited that and that this trait skips a generation; my wife is not so sure. 

It is a bit odd to look up and suddenly realize you are an orphan, which sounds a bit ridiculous for a 50-year old man.  Orphans are little ragamuffins from 1930s movies where Andy Rooney plays a character wise beyond his years, street smart urchins schooled in the unpleasantries of life.  In reality, most of us wind up wearing that title at some point and it is part of the natural order.  Never being an orphan only means one thing, dying before your parents which is about the worst thing I can imagine.  

I am going to believe that mom is at peace, bending dad's ear again.  Of course, he had more than a year to rest up so he should be okay.  A lifetime of pictures and memories will erase the difficulty of the past several months, and I'll leave it with this - if you or an elderly person that you know has even an inkling of "senior moments" going on, make a doctor's apppointment immediately if not sooner.  The last thing you want is for your kids to find out after-the-fact that mom or dad or grandma is mentally fading away.  I've read too many stories of families being ripped apart over how to care for the person who can no longer care for him/herself. Get the check up and make a plan; it will be the thing you can do for the ones left behind.