Less than two months after my mom visited us in California to meet Zen we were packing up to head to Pennsylvania to visit her and the rest of the family. I hadn't had much time to myself, but at some point in the week before our flight I found myself on my yoga mat, collapsed on the floor crying. I knew my mom was going to die while we were in Pennsylvania. I tried to pick myself up off the mat and let those fearful thoughts go, but I knew it wasn't just fear, it was an inner knowing that I was about to lose my mom. A few days later, just two days before our flight, my mother had a test at the hospital. She had been pretty sick, and I was just hoping it was side effects of all the immunotherapy and chemo, but I was extremely nervous as I sat with Zennith in the rocking chair awaiting the results. Our friend Javier was staying with us that week, and I remember telling him that I was sorry if I wasn't able to be present in our conversation, but I was a bit anxious to find out my mom's results. My phone received a text, and as I saw the words my heart sank and I began shaking. "She's dying. They are calling hospice." I went into survival mode. I called Leo, who was at work, and told him I needed to go home early. I frantically got Southwest Airlines on the phone to move my flight up by a day so I could get to my mom as soon as possible (which Southwest did for free, highly recommend this airline). At some point, Javier took Zennith from me, standing with him and rocking him in such a loving way that I didn't need to worry about his needs. Our dog Kea laid on my feet. A normally high strung, energetic pup, was suddenly my support. She hadn't been that calm and supportive since the night I was in labor. She knew I needed her love. But what I really needed was my mom. I needed to see her, to hold her, to love on her. My greatest fears were being realized, her pain was finally going to go away for good, and I was going to lose my mother, my best friend, my number one cheerleader. I was going to have to become a mother to Zennith without my mentor. The greatest grandma in the whole world, Zen's Mimi, was not going to be here to shower him in love as he grew up. No one could replace her. No other grandma's or grandpa's, uncles or aunties, friends or teachers would ever fill the missing void of Mimi's love. And I think that is why I crumbled. How unfair. I finally became a mom to the most perfect little boy and my mother was not going to get to help me in the journey of his life. I felt cheated, angry, sad, mad, and scared. My mom had to have surgery that morning. She had stents from a surgery in April that needed replaced because of all the pain they were causing. She finally convinced them to replace them, months later. So the next day, the morning after finding out there was nothing left to do other than slowly die, my mom was to have the stents replaced. I was so afraid that her frail body would not survive the surgery. I was worried that even if we flew home that same day, we would make it too late. We packed up our bags, (thank goodness I had already began packing). got a 6am flight the next morning and would fly home, to arrive a few hours after mom got home from surgery. I remember standing in the airport, just after checking our bags, talking to my mom as she awaited surgery. I told her I loved her and then cried to my sister on the phone begging her to promise me that mom would be alive when we got home 10 hours later. THANK GOD she was there in her chair when we got home. No more pain. Huh, imagine that. They replaced the stents and she had less pain than she had the previous three months...Why couldn't they have done that to begin with? I wondered if she would have been in less pain and much happier when she visited her two week old grandson in May if they had let her get the stents replaced back then. It's amazing how much anger surfaced in me when I looked at how awful my mothers final months were. But I made it home. We made it home. Zen, Leo and I arrived to her house in late July. As I walked through the door, there my mom sat in her chair. She had aged thirty years in just two months. I couldn't believe how much she looked like my Great Gramma Tillie. It was time for me to take care of my mom as she had cared for me when I was a baby. I needed to show her unconditional love in her final days. We really had no idea how much time she had left. It turned out to be three weeks from the day we got there. So for three weeks we did what anyone would do, we surrounded her with love. That first night after returning home I tucked my mom into bed. Dad was laying next to her until she was ready for him to leave. He slept in the extra room so she could be comfortable. As I told her good night I kneeled at her bed and tears streamed down my face. "I'm ok" Mom said, "I did the best I could". "I know", I replied, "But I just don't want you to be in pain." Mom responded by convincing me the nurses would be able to keep her comfortable if she had pain, and that she finally was comfortable now and relieved since the surgery that morning. I went to bed wondering how many nights I was going to tuck her in. Would I be blessed with more nights to say good night? Would I be tortured with more nights of wondering if it were the last? Turns out, it didn't happen for another three weeks and I truly have no recollection of what my last night of tucking her in was like. Had I known it was going to be the last, I may have stayed a few seconds longer. The first morning Mimi woke up she immediately asked for Zen. "Where's the baby?" is one of the few things my mom said to me during those three weeks. He was pretty much the only thing that really made her smile. Of course she was happy to see her other grandkids too, but she was worried they would remember her in those final days and not the fun times they had. With Zen, she just let him see her exactly as she was. She smiled and he smiled, she watched him stare into her eyes. She held him with a pillow on her lap to keep her belly comfortable. A liver that is five times it's normal size is no longer under the ribs. It took up her entire abdomen and the only way she could hold her grandson was with a pillow between them. The first three days I was home I exhausted myself. Everyone wanted to come see my mom and if they didn't want to disrupt her, they wanted to see the baby. But as a woman who was losing her mother, it was way too overwhelming for me. I just wanted to lock the doors and lay in bed with her. But I wasn't able to. Everyone wanted their chance to say goodbye. So I kept extremely busy running around taking care of everyone but myself. I wanted to keep my grandparents spirits up by visiting with them and watching them pour their love all over Zennith. I needed to go to the store and shop for foods I could eat because all of the food that was being made for our family was food that was full of dairy, gluten, and sugar. All of which, had I ate, would have sent my heath into a huge downward spiral. I was blessed a week in to have some friends make me food I could eat and I am forever grateful for those women! But I ran back and forth between my grand parents house and my parents house in a never ending cycle. I helped mom down the hall to the living room, along with my dad, sister, and other close family members. I got her anything she wanted to eat. At this point, Mom could only take two or three bites and she was full because of the liver pushing on all the other organs. But she wanted to taste the foods she would never taste again. She wanted the most random things, like sweet corn, but whatever she wanted, we got for her. I served it with love, even if it was one of the most unhealthy foods she could want. She deserved to enjoy every last taste she could. (Oh except the McDonald's milkshake....I am pretty sure I didn't let that one get to her....maybe I should have?) I watched my sister and brother learn how to take care of a dying woman. The compassion and love that poured out of them was incredible. Getting her dressed, onto a toilet, dumping the bedside toilet, filing her nails. All of it was done with presence and love. It wasn't pretty, sometimes it was very ugly and messy and hard for us to push through. But we did it because that is what she has done for us. In all of our times growing up and being sick, in the hospital, broken hearted, or just frustrated with life., she held us up. Our mom supported us in every struggle and we really had no option but to do the same for her. In the past four years we all got angry and yelled at her for not properly taking care of herself in the battle with cancer. But in the end, we were just all very scared of being in this very moment. The moment of losing our beloved mother. We watched our dad fall apart in the realization that she was dying. His wife of thirty years would no longer be by his side. He walked around like a lost puppy. He got scared when she had a bad day and he thought it was her last day....it wasn't though, Debbie is a stubborn one and she fought hard another two weeks to be with her family just a little longer. We watched Dad as all the family and friends came by to show support and him sit off to the side as if he was watching a movie. He didn't want to accept this as his life. None of us did. But we had to. We also watched as he obsessively checked on her. Helped her to the bathroom twenty times each night, going three weeks with little to no sleep. He refused to let us help him at night by doing shifts being with her. In fact, mom asked him to start sleeping with her in the bed the last week or two, and he wasn't going to let any of us in there during those final nights alone with her. Even if it meant no sleep. He was going to be her guardian in the nights. He loves her so much and it was heart breaking to watch him lose the love of his life. After a few days of exhaustion I realized I needed to take care of myself. After all, I was Zen's only source of food and he needed me to be well. A dear friend from college came to visit with another friend and they helped me take a night away (at another dear friend's house 15 min. down the road). We got to make some yummy food, relax and laugh, sit in the sun, and take a few moments so I could escape the reality that was my life. My niece was going to turn two years old and my mom wanted to be able to go to her birthday party, so we decided to have a party a week early in my grand parents backyard, which is right next door to my parents house. We didn't know how my mom was going to make it to the back yard and be able to sit for so long, but she was determined to be at her party. So we made it happen. My mom put on a dress, did her hair, and forced out a smile all afternoon. She had help walking across the yard and tried to eat, including some ice cream which she teased me with as she pretended to feed it to Zen just to get a reaction out of me. Her dry humor was really strong the last week or two. Mom was insistent that the day be focused on Kinley, so we had a "normal" family birthday picnic. We tried to just be as we always were for family gatherings. Light hearted, full of laughter and food. Kinley opened her gifts, including the final birthday gifts from Mimi she would ever receive. As we finished up dessert, I was nursing Zen. My sister told me I needed to stop feeding him when he wasn't actually eating. I thought she was just trying to prevent me from having a baby who is attached to the boob, so when my cousin Megan asked to take him since he was only pacifying on me, I handed Zen over. Little did I know that everyone was patiently waiting for me to be done feeding Zen. Suddenly my sister was standing next to me, awkwardly with her hands behind her back. She got everyone's attention as if she needed to say something important. Oh don't make this emotional, I thought. Mom just wants us to enjoy Kinley's party. Courtney began tearing up but then quickly handed "the mic" over to Leo and handed him a bouquet of sunflowers. I was so confused. At first I thought he was having some kind of family intervention, but then I thought he's going to propose, and that thought quickly left my mind and I just had no idea what was happening other than for him to express his love for my family. Well turns out, Leo had asked everyone in my family permission to marry me, and he wanted everyone to witness his proposal, so my grandma suggested he do it on this special family day. The last day that my mom ever would leave her house and share a family celebration. No ring, no plans, just a heartfelt proposal that was perfect as ever. If you haven't seen the video, here is a link to the rest of this particular story: https://www.facebook.com/leo.castrence/posts/10212123130406551
After that conversation with my friend, I tried to talk with my mom. Other than sharing her famous spaghetti recipe with my sister and me, she really didn't want to talk. A few days before she passed, she had a little energy and we all gathered in her room. She focused on the grandkids mostly. We asked her a few random questions about life and she whispered a few things from her heart on how proud she was of her children and how hard marriage is. But otherwise, her energy was very low and she was slowly slipping away from us. We laid in bed with her sporadically, but usually she just slept. It was as if she was already slipping over to the other side. In fact, I know she was. Mom started seeing and experiencing things in her transition that only gave us comfort. One morning she told me that she kept seeing orbs in the corner of her eye and that there was one there that floated across the room. She asked me what it was. Later that week she asked why her room was full of purple. And one day after waking up from a nap, she asked who the two women in her room were. At night she asked my dad what the hole in the floor of her bedroom was. One morning she said that a man in white came to get her and told her she needed to go to a party with him. She said she didn't want to go because he was going to make her wear yellow shoes and she hated yellow (Mom actually liked yellow shoes, and the day after she died my sister found yellow shoes in her closet that none of us had ever seen. Courtney wore them to her funeral.). My mom also said that she saw Grandpa Bill (my dad's father) and that he was waiting with a Ham on the spit. Now usually he didn't cook hams on the spit, but rather a joke because once my mom told my aunt that Grandpa Bill couldn't have ham for Easter because he had the "clap". Hah, what she really meant to say was Gout and they made a joke about it ever since. So there was Grandpa Bill joking with her and waiting with a ham for her to join him. Leo had stayed with me for two and a half weeks, but felt pressured back to California because of his job. A decision he would later regret, especially since he quit his job a few months later, he booked a flight home. On Tuesday August 15th we went into my mom's room so he could say goodbye. "When are you coming back?", my mom asked. Instantly tears filled up our eyes and she knew this was her final moments with him. And as sad as this is to remember, it's the greatest gift Leo received. He is the only person my mom knew she was absolutely saying her final goodbye to. Family members and friends kept stopping by until she died, but Leo was getting on an airplane and not returning. So she knew this was it for them. Leo grabbed my moms hand, and they laid in bed together staring into each other's eyes for a long thirty minute goodbye. There were moments of thanks, moments of long silence, and I honestly don't know what all was said because I walked away to give them some time alone. But as I stood in the hallway watching my love say goodbye to my mother, I heard her final words to him. "No more fear", she whispered, "you got this..no more fear." "Now go conquer the world...I believe in you." My mom believed in Leo more than anyone he has had in his life. She saw his light, his purpose, his path that lay before him. And with that, she told him how much she loved him, that he was just like her own son to her, and that he needed to follow his heart and go walk his purpose. I had to drag Leo away to leave for the airport so he wouldn't miss his flight. And as sad as it was to watch their goodbye, I was so jealous that he got that from her. I was happy he got to have those moments, but I knew that my mom would never have a time like that for me. That she wouldn't know for sure when her last moments with us would be and that our time with her would continue to be day to day care taking with little words. I wonder what she would have said to me if I was leaving with Leo. What was in her heart for me? What words would I forever long to hear? I spent the next two days being a mama to Zen without Leo for the first time. It was exhausting. I felt like I couldn't think straight. I was lost trying to caretake for both Zen, my mom, and anyone else in the family who was struggling in their emotions. I felt overwhelmed and just wanted to lay in bed all day with my mom. On Thursday, August 17th my sister stopped by and got ready in my mom's bathroom for a yearly gathering her husband goes to for work. My sister was afraid to go because it was an hour away and she didn't want mom to die while she was gone. My mom told Courtney that she was going to a party and needed to get ready. Courtney assumed she thought my mom meant that she was going to go with her to the party that afternoon. I had a feeling that she meant the party the "Man in White" was trying to take her to for the past week. Mom wanted me to give her my daily massage, and I told Courtney to tell her I needed to finish eating breakfast. As a breast feeding mama, I realized the previous few days with out Leo helping me make meals was getting to me, and I needed to focus on getting nutrition that day. So for the first time in three weeks I didn't go running for my mom right away, but rather I told her to wait for me to finish my meal. Ten minutes later I went into my mom's room to massage her and heard the final words she would ever say clearly to me, "That was a long breakfast". I laughed it off and massaged my mom back to sleep. I had been massaging her for three weeks every day, and I had no idea that this was my final time. I rubbed her back, her legs, and her feet. Then I tucked her in and went out to the living room to spend the day with Zen. Later that afternoon I was struggling. I went into the kitchen on do dishes and my aunt and uncle stopped by. I told them to go back to her room, as I really wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. When they came out my aunt asked me to help her change my mom's underwear. She said that she had on an adult diaper and that she told my aunt that she "was done". My uncle came out thinking that she meant she was done, as in, DONE. My heart sank. I knew what she meant. She was ready to go to her party. Later that hour my mom asked for a bucket. I believe it was my aunt and grandma who went back wth her. She felt really sick and had signs her blood pressure was rising. It just so happens, at that very moment, the Hospice nurse realized she hadn't stopped by to check vitals earlier that morning, and came over at the end of the day. The nurse confirmed that my mom's body was shutting down. At this point, it could be up to two days. But we all knew mom wouldn't last that long. She held on as long as she could. And now we hoped she just let go peacefully. We made plans for night shifts. Two people at a time would take turns every two hours care taking for her. As the sun set, I wiped her forehead with a cold rag. She was sweaty so badly and I kept checking her pulse on her neck as it continued to rise, indicating the organs shutting down. I called my sister and she found a ride home. I told my mom how much I loved her. She mumbled "Love" back to me. My grandma had me read a letter she had wrote to her. I got through to the end until the PS. My grandma wrote P.S. I will see you in a few years in heaven. Everyone took turns saying their goodbyes. My sister's friend and husband helped lift up her mattress so she would be slightly elevated as her lungs began to shut down. They tried to get morphine into her through a syringe. My sister said she fought it and didn't want it. Courtney began crying at the realization that this was it. My mother's final words to her, "Stop it". "Did you just tell me to stop crying?", Courtney replied. Yup, that's my mama. Stubborn to the end. As the sun set, I took Zen to my grandparents and put him to bed in my gramma's bed, where we slept the final few nights in Pennsylvania. Zen didn't sleep well in my parent's house, and I assumed it was all the energy of the many people in and out, and the transition of my mom to the world he had just came from. I returned to my mom's house for my shift 10pm-12am with my sister. I crawled into bed with her and grabbed her hand. Little did I know, this would be my last moment alone with her. I asked her if she wanted me to pray with her and she squeezed my hand back. I began to pray and prayed until I didn't know what else to pray for. I asked for her easy transition. I gave thanks for all that we shared. I cried, I breathed, I trusted, and I prayed some more. My aunt showed up for her shift, along with my cousins and my mom's cousin and friend. I went back to my grandma's to try to sleep with Zen. I tried to wake him to eat so that he wouldn't wake up just as I was falling asleep. But he wouldn't wake up. For the first and only time, Zen slept through the entire night and didn't need any breast milk. My Aunt came over and woke me up a few hours later. I thought she had passed. but she just told me that it was probably going to be soon. She warned me that mom had started moaning soon after I left a few hours earlier. I walked in the front door and could hear her all the way down the hall. It sounded like she was saying "Hi Ruth", my dad's mother, and rotated that sound with a moan that almost sounded like "Ian", my brother in law, who was in the living room and was not able to go into her room for these final hours. It was an awful load moan that echoed through the entire house on every exhale. For hours my mother made those noises, and we didn't know what to do. We called Hospice and the nurse on call was awful. (We had amazing experiences with Hospice up until this final night, and I used to work for them doing massages. This is not a put down of Hospice at all.) The nurse on call kept telling us she had many hours if not days left and that it was normal for them to moan and to give her more morphine. The morphine didn't do anything. Everyone had to take turns going to my grandparents to get some relief from listening to my mom's moaning. I stayed for a little while and then went back to check on Zen. I laid in bed with him and couldn't get the moan out of my head. I didn't want to go back, but I knew I had to. This was my mama and she would have stood by my side no matter what sounds I was making. I walked back across the front yards and a storm eerily rolled by. The wind picked up, the moon was barely visible behind the clouds, and I was covered in chills from the feeling that was passing by. I knew it would be soon. I went into my mom's room and my cousin joined me. I began to hear her rattle, the "death rattle", when the lungs begin to fill up with fluid. I called for my aunt to confirm that was what we heard. We tried to administer the medication to help with this and it got stuck on her tongue and tooth and wasn't dissolving. At this point I was fed up with the on call nurse, and called back requesting she come help us. It was about 5am and we didn't need the extra stress of administering medicine and not getting it in properly while we watched our mother die. The nurse tried to avoid coming and I got stern and said we needed her. She said it would take at least thirty minutes and I told her I doubted it would be that long. As I hung up the phone my aunt yelled my name. My cousin came running down the hall saying mom had stopped breathing. I ran into the room and she started to breathe again. My aunt swore she had been gone. Meanwhile, my cousin and mom's friend ran next door to get everyone else. They all ran back thinking mom had died, and entered the room to find her moaning again. For the first time all night all 12 of us were in the room together. My dad, brother, sister, brother in law, aunt, gramma, grandpa, two cousins, my mom's cousin, and friend. My grandma asked if we would all hold hands and say The Lord's Prayer. We surrounded my mom's bed in a circle, holding hands with her. We all recited The Lord's Prayer, and within 30 seconds my mom surrendered and took her final breath. The ending was that of a movie. Peaceful, Divine Timing, and my Mom got what she wanted. She was surrounded by all of us. Mom passed on the morning August 18th. We had her viewing on the 21st and her funeral on August 22nd, the day of the first total solar eclipse visible from coast to coast across the United States in 99 years. As we prepared to say goodbye to my mother for the last time in body, the country was covered in darkness at midday. A true day of mourning. But from the darkness, returned the light. And that is what I am finally finding again. The light is shining back into my life. My sweet baby boy has held me up for the past six months, but now I am ready to shine the light back out into the world. Life is short, Love is Bitter Sweet. Tell those you love how much you care for them, be grateful in the simple moments. Find peace, even in the troubling times. My mother told us not to sulk in our sadness. To continue on in our lives and to be happy once she was gone. Some days it's easier than others, but we keep trying. We keep moving forward, in her honor, in her light, helping spread the ripple she created in our family. My mother was the embodiment of Unconditional Love. She accepted everyone as they were and shone her light into their lives. So tonight, I step back into the light. It's time to create ripples. It's time to live the life my mother gifted me. Thanks, Mama. I'm sorry this one took so long to write. I know you were always the first one to read my blog and encourage me to write. I'm back.
6 Comments
Becky
2/27/2018 02:57:49 pm
This is beautifully written. Love you Cas!
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Aunt Kim
2/27/2018 03:52:13 pm
This is so beautifully written. So proud of you Cassie. I know your mom is looking down smiling.
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Jeana Morrison
2/27/2018 06:25:18 pm
Such a beautifully written story of love! Your mom was so good to my children and I when we were saying good bye to my husband the same way you had to with her.
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Helen Tennant
2/28/2018 04:30:25 am
What a wonderful daughter you are Cassie ; no wonder your Mum was so proud of you ; such heartfelt honest writing.
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Laurie Hutchison
5/17/2018 06:40:58 pm
So Very Beautiful..
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Amy L Main
8/17/2022 05:56:12 am
Cassie, I wish I had gotten to know your mother better. But after reading this beautiful story, I feel that I have. What a wonderful, strong, loving person she was. And she was so lucky to have you as her daughter. Thinking of you and your family. Hugs
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