Mum

June 4: Mum passed away on May 25, an event that was certainly sad, but not entirely unexpected. As I have written elsewhere, she was 94 years old, and the last of her generation. She had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and had aortic stenosis and an irregular heartbeat that required a pacemaker. After 13 days of struggle in Sunnybrook, her death was in many ways a release and a reprieve from further pain and the deterioration these afflictions would eventually deliver.

Passing time in the hospital was marked by a range of emotions. Initially there was fear and concern as she was being treated in the ER, her condition unclear and her future uncertain. Then a degree of relief as we knew what we were dealing with, shortly followed by disappointment that she was not getting better and progressing toward recovery. During this time she steadfastly resisted treatments by repeatedly removing her oxygen cannula and by trying to yank out her IV drip. It was hard not to be angry and frustrated with her for fighting things that would clearly help her.  Ultimately, the Doctors tried a nasal-gastric tube to deliver needed nourishment, and she removed it twice while wearing personal restraints, even before the Doctors could determine that it was correctly positioned.

My sister and I both interpreted that as a sign that we could do no more. So finally there was acceptance that we had done what we could, and that the time had come to let her go. In the end, her passing was peaceful and she slipped away around 8:45 on a rainy evening.

At her visitation, so many people shared similar stories of loved ones who battled dementias and other chronic conditions that it’s almost impossible not to think of this as an epidemic sweeping through an aging demographic. My cohort is next, and it’s hard not to contemplate my own end and what that might be like. I have a running joke with Marisa and others that I will die in a “flaming motorcycle wreck in the south of France”, which is nothing more than code for a fervent hope that I will die quickly and peacefully rather than lingering with a debilitating illness.

Whatever it is to be, I’ve learned lessons from Mum’s passing. My sadness is balanced with the peace that comes from knowing that her struggle is over and that I can be in a happier and more peaceful place, remembering her for the wonderful Mum she always was.