My Mother's Last Breath

Yesterday's blog was very hard to get into words and even more difficult to let in emotionally. I walked away feeling in one way like I had unloaded a great weight yet in the other way like I had opened a wound that finally tried to heal. One thing I want to say is this: I will always love my father. When i think back on my life as his daughter sure there are negatives, especially now,but all in all my father was my hero. He could put together and fix anything. He was the hardest working man I knew. Although he wasn't the kind of father who would sit and read books to me or play a game of catch with any of his children, he was, in his own way, very loving.I remember many times after falling and hurting myself the first thing that my father would do is yell at me and say things Like "I told you not to do that" and other such negative words, he would work 12 hours a day and then hide the rest of the day in his bedroom and when he did come out for dinner he would usually yell at me and my siblings for eating too fast or too slow, breathing too hard, sniffing when we had a cold or any other kind of annoying thing he could find. He was a tough, unemotional man who hardly showed any emotion other than anger.

My mother on the other side of the spectrum was emotional, sweet and empathetic.My mother could with just a smile make even strangers feel good about themselves. She,like me, wore her heart on her sleeve. She would cheer up even the most grumpy of people, including my father, and make a gloomy day so bright. Sure, she yelled and lost her patience but what parent doesn't? She was a mother of 3 kids, one of them my brother who,as you have read, stole, lied and did everything in his power to have his way all the way. I was the middle kid who tried to make everyone like me and do nothing wrong (but I still did do wrong, believe me) and my sister was the youngest and got what she wanted when she wanted it and it made her, well, spoiled. So, both Mom and Dad had a very tough life filled with my brothers crap, work and the normal bills, household problems, etc.

I remember that my dad owned a shot gun. I only saw him use it once and for the most part it stood in his closet. I remember when Dad would disappear to his room for days at a time and sometimes a week or more, my mind would go right to that gun. I thought he might be sad enough to kill himself.

I saw my father cry on only 3 occasions..when he had to put our dog Noel out of her misery after being hit by a car, when my Grandfather died as I was reading a Eulogy that I wrote aloud to a church full of mourners and in that same church 20 years later when my Mom died. When Dad cried it made my heart ache..It made me feel like if it was all bad enough to bring him to tears than it was worse than even I thought.

Its the same with my husband. If I am worrying about bills, the kids, anything in life I can deal with it but when Kevin worries it makes me feel like it must be really, really bad to get him to notice. See, like my father my husband isn't very comfortable showing his feelings. Only anger comes naturally to him. It seems that for me the old saying that we marry men like our fathers is true.

That day when Dad came to our house taking back his offer to have us keep the SUV while we made payments on it I was very hurt. Not only because he went back on a deal with us but because of the emotional tie I had to that vehicle. Honestly paying for the SUV wasn't exactly in my budget and its not that we needed another vehicle but that was where my mother died...Right there in that Pontiac Torrent in the passenger seat she spent her last breath. She looked like she was simply sleeping. When I went to the open door of the SUV that day I was half expecting to be able to shake her awake and tell her how much she scared us but I knew when I looked at her that my angel, my best friend was gone.

So, Here came Dad with his girlfriend and my sister (Who at first said I SHOULD take the car and the payments but then realized the payments were low enough that she could afford them so she wanted it instead) and they TRIED to march right into MY home...I stopped them at the door. Come On!!! This is the damn woman who called me a bitch and hung up in my ear when I begged her on the phone to give Dad some time to get healthy before she would take him away from us. The same woman who sat in front of me and my Mom and 5 different doctors admitting that all she cared about was that damn car and the same woman who asked me if she could have the car when Dad was fighting for his life in the hospital. She and my sister promised my father a chance to leave the nursing home he hated so much in exchange for his car and probably his money (they went that day they took back the ATM card from me and did a withdraw of at least $400 then went on to shop at several stores and restaurants in a weeks time). The idea of that "woman" sitting in the passenger seat, the same seat where my mother died..............UGH! It makes me so angry. How could Dad do away with my Mom so easily, how could my Sister decide that this woman was worth a chance in excahnage for someone to babysit her kids and because she gave her drugs? How could Dad not care if I am Never Ever in his life-especially his Grand Kids-Ever again?

Here I was, certainly not perfect, but trying through all of my emotional crap to keep his paperwork for his insurance, retirement, his house and other important things in order, paying all of his bills with his money and then with my own when it was necessary as well as being his health care proxy and working with his doctors to determine if he could go home and how we could do it with little or no problems. The doctors were advising that we would have to hide any and all car keys because he would inevitably try to drive in the middle of the night like before even though his licence was taken away and that he could not be alone, he would need constant help with things like eating, getting his medications, taking his blood sugar count, doing household chores, shopping and going to the doctor. My sister at first wanted to move in with my father to be his aid but when the paperwork was moving slowly and she learned that she would not be PAID for her time she made all sorts of excuses for no longer wanting to take care of her own father. I already tried several times to care for my father and as you know the last time I did it he went ahead and moved out of his home of almost 40 years into the tiny apartment with this "woman" he now calls his girlfriend. I felt that my own family had done more than enough to help and that it was my sisters turn but my sister lost interest when the money wasn't offered.

On top of all this my Mother had beautiful jewelry. Mainly given to her by my father who spoiled her over the years, she had rings, necklaces, bracelets,etc. She had always said that it was important to her that her children and Grandchildren get the jewelry. She even told me in person one day that she wanted me to be sure that Dad didn't give it to his new girlfriend...She was so worried that all the love that Dad used to feel for her and that caused him to buy my Mother diamonds and gems would be lessened by him either selling everything for less than a quarter of the jewelry's worth or be given to some woman who was just using him. Believe me, except for her jewelry my Mom was not a materialist person. When Dad left her for Donna and then came back Mom was scared that she would lose everything to Donna. I promised her that Dad would not take or sell at least Moms favorite pieces. So when Mom died I took the jewelry she was wearing home and kept it safe. When My sister started getting greedy and wanting to divide it before moms body was even cold, I locked it up in a bank safe. See, when a person is addicted to drugs they will sell out anything or anyone to get more drugs. My sister already broke into Dad's house and stole things, took his ATM card and stole hundreds of dollars and she tried to hock a diamond tennis bracelet that Dad has left at home. My sister said she had 2ND thoughts and ended up not hocking it but I wonder. Anyway, I have it now and until my sister proves that she is safe and worries more about getting her daughter back than her hands on this jewelry, I will keep it safe for the Grand kids. I have the right, Mom asked me to do it. PERIOD. I know Dad bought most of it for mom but.....He sold jewelry that wasn't even Moms. things that mom had borrowed from my sister and I. A few pieces were from me to Mom and they are gone too...I am so upset, so hurt at my fathers lack of concern, his lack of missing Mom, or at least showing it. This is what scares me: My father ADORED my mother for 35 years. He was a grumpy ass most of the time but only Mom could make him smile and only Mom really knew my father. My Dad cherished her and, I am sorry to admit, my father didn't deserve my mother. No one did. She was too loving, giving, sharing and wonderful. But she loved him day after day, mood swing after mood swing and what did she get for all of her hard work, tears and loneliness of loving a man who was miserable? He left her for the first woman he met in a mental hospital...Makes me wonder and feel for people who lose their loved ones to Alzheimer's...Although Dad didn't lose all of his memory, he forget how much he loved the one person in the world who really loved him back...Sad.