Debbie Daughetee

My mom was a tiny woman -- 5'l" and if she weighed over 100 pounds, it was on an odd day. But as she used to say dynamite comes in small packages.

She used to make all my formals, and there were a lot because of school dances and Rainbow Girls. I loved it when she brushed my hair. I always had long,thick hair and brushing felt so good. When I was Minnie Fay in Hello Dolly, mom spent over an hour wrapping my hair around her finger and putting bobby pins in there so, the morning of the play, I'd have long curls falling down my back.

Mom had RA for over 50 years. But she never complained about the pain and it never stopped her from doing the things she wanted to do.

Today, my mom passed away. It was a blessing as she'd been suffering for over a year. She went in peace. I will miss her terribly.

The last two weeks have been interesting, in the curse sense of the word.  

I was home from Maine for a few days when I call home and discover that my mother is in very, very bad shape.  I talked to her, and knew she simply wasn't going to be around much longer.  So I got on a plane and made my way to Florida.

I arrived Monday night and when I saw mom I almost couldn't control myself.  She's small and skeletal, curled up in a fetal position and totally out of it.  I wasn't really sure she knew I was there.  I didn't think she'd last the night.

Come Tuesday morning and my mom wakes up totally coherent.  She's not ready to get out of bed yet -- I mean she hasn't eaten in 4 days and that tends to make you weak.  The hospice people come in and evaluate her.  Dad will now have help -- a nurse twice a week, an aid to help bathe her twice a week, and a light touch massage therapist (my mom's body is wracked by rheumatoid arthritis) once a week.

Okay.  Then mom gets up and eats a little something and watches TV and talks and laughs.  That night she dreams of a barbeque in the backyard with all her dead friends and family there.  She has a great time, but she keeps my dad awake by talking to all these people.  Oh yeah, she's on her way out.

Except the next morning she wakes up and is better than she has been in the last year.  She eats, we go shopping (she's in her wheelchair of course) and we have a great time.  That night I dream I keep waking up and going into the bedroom to check on her.  Dad tells me in the morning that mom saw me standing by the bed checking on her in the middle of the night.  Hm.

She stay as good as that day, but she hasn't gone back to what she was either.  It's a rollercoaster of emotions.

But, I did get some work done.  Does that seem callous?  Well, I'm writing a novel about ghosts and it seems rather fitting that I write it when some are around.  Actually it's what is keeping me sane right now -- keeping me grounded in the face of eventuality.  I'm okay with mom going when she chooses to do so.  That doesn't mean I won't be grief-stricken.  But I now know she's surrounded by friends and family and won't have to transition alone.

And so I write about death and ghosts and love and mystery.  I wasn't able to keep my writing goals for the writeathon unfortunately.  But I will be sending 70 pages of my novel to my MFA mentor this week.  I have more pages, but I'm still working on them.  So I don't feel that I failed too miserably.

Plus my dad has decided to write a memoir.  I'm helping him.  This kind of writing is heartbreaking under these circumstances since it's all about how my mother's love changed his life for the better.  I'd much rather get lost in my ghosts.