Angie & Jim

Phone Calls and Family Historyby Jim

Joseph left early this morning to be with his wife, who had knee surgery today. We were sad to see him go, but we all felt it is what Mom would have wanted. (I’m sure she’ll be guiding us for years to come by her example.) I’m pleased to report that the surgery went well and Kelly is on the mend.

This morning I finished up work on the memory tree website with Brittany. I’m happy with the way it turned out and would like to invite anyone reading this to please share with us a memory or two that you have of Mom. There are already several very nice memories for you to read. The link is http://memory-tree.jigawot.net go ahead and go there right now. Don’t worry, I’ll wait.

This morning Mom’s “ladies-in-waiting” gave her a sponge bath right in the hospital bed. Her muscles can get very rigid and they had to be careful of the catheter, but overall it went well. It must have been a nice feeling to be all clean again with fresh clothes on because we got a rare smile out of her as well as faint movement of her lips that appeared to be her mouthing “thank you.”

She’s been pretty sleepy most of the day. We swab her mouth and give her little bits of water through a straw. She can only barely swallow, so we have to be very careful how much water we give her.

Tawny, Mom’s hospice nurse, came and took her vitals and helped us to make Mom more comfortable. Her pulse was down a little from last time (though, still higher than normal) and the slight fever she had yesterday has come down also. She said Mom looked comfortable and that we were doing a great job caring for her.

This evening, Dad shared with us the presentation he and Mom put together on family history. They gave it at a stake Relief Society conference a while back and it was such a hit that they agreed to give it in all the wards during ward conference. Dad’s had to give it solo the last few times, which has been hard, but he’s been faithfully fulfilling his assignment. It was a very inspiring presentation about how we can do our family history and how important it is. Family history was always so important to Mom, it was great to hear her contributions to the presentation.

This evening, we sang to Mom as we normally do. She can’t stay awake for very long now, so our singing is often shortened (and restarted later). We didn’t have Joseph with us, but we forged ahead without him. Before we were done, however, he called with Kelly to chat with Mom for a bit. It was very sweet to hear Kelly tell Mom how much she means to her. Their children sang to Mom over the phone and then Kelly sang to Mom. It was really beautiful.

Rebecca made a comment this evening about Mom’s legacy that I thought was quite profound. She said that it is our responsibility to carry on Mom’s memory to our children: That it will be through our stories and recollections that they know her, and that we have the power to mold the way she will be remembered. I hope the memories I have of her never dim so that I can tell my children and my nieces and nephews so that they can benefit from the incredible example that my mother lived.

Just like the last two nights, we’re staying up in shifts to be with Mom in the living room. She’s sleeping peacefully right now. We love you and are grateful for all your support.

Mom’s smile

Gathering Aroundby Jim

Mom slept most of the day. I doubt her rest was very sound last night. Her breathing has been labored all day. Jon arrived late last night and Rebecca will arrive tomorrow morning. We each have taken turns sitting next to Mom to comfort her as she drifted in and out of sleep. We’re doing our best to try and keep her comfortable, but since drinking any significant amount of liquid now is nearly impossible, we know she will not be with us for very much longer.

Angie sat with Mom this morning and reminisced about our family reunion last summer at Lake Shasta. We all stayed in one big house, plus a tent in the backyard. Angie retold the evening devotional we gave about the Jaredites: we trooped all the family and “flocks” (aka, youngest grandchildren) out the backdoor (or the “city wall”), around the backyard (“wilderness”), and in another door to the living room, where we pushed the couches together to form “barges.” Mom’s eyes were wide and she was very attentive. Her eyebrows shot up when Angie described the stones being lit by the hand of the Lord. She certainly seemed to enjoy it.

A couple days ago, I got a message from one of Mom’s high school friends who saw my posts on Facebook. She told me that she’d shared one of my posts on their school’s Facebook page and many of Mom’s great friends from those days responded, reminiscing about Mom and the impression she made on each of them. Today Joseph read these responses to her, and it was wonderful to hear how many people throughout Mom’s life had great respect for her beauty, intelligence, and kindness.

We had a bit of a scare tonight as Mom’s breathing got very difficult, with occasional moments where she’d skip breathing altogether. We all gathered around her, but Mom worked through it and started breathing more easily after we shifted her around a bit on the bed. Tonight we did our regular round of singing, with the whole crew minus Rebecca, who is currently flying over the Pacific on her way here. We asked Mom if she liked our singing, and we got a rare response where she nodded and raised her eyebrows a little.

We’re each taking turns tonight staying up with Mom. It is nice that we have so many in the house to share the load of care.

Mom’s Handsby Jim

The other day, as I was holding Mom’s hands, I was struck by how much I love her hands and by how many emotions I feel as I look at them. I’m sure to most people, they look like ordinary hands, but when I see them I’m filled with memories of love and tenderness. I see the hours of labor she dedicated to blessing the lives of those most dear to her. I sense the commitment she showed to those she loved. I feel the calming and comforting peace she gave me in my times of grief or anguish. I feel the safety she provided to me as a child, the gentleness she used to guide me and teach me to walk in righteous paths. To me, these hands are the purest form of beauty.

“Can I kiss your smile?”by Jim

This morning Dad had a very tender moment with Mom. He was giving her some water (as he has done so faithfully for a few days now), and she just looked up at him with a very pleased look on her face. Her smiles are pretty faint now, but we can still tell when she does. She was looking steadily, right at him and Dad was delighted, so he said, “Can I kiss your smile?” He did so and she smiled even more.

Dad found Mom’s copy of her patriarchal blessing and read it to her. It was another very precious moment to hear about her life and see how faithful she was to the tasks that she was entrusted with. I had never heard her blessing in its entirety and I had no idea that so much of her life was dedicated to fulfilling her mission. Her family has been the most important thing to her — I always knew that — but now I understand a little better why it was so important to her. She was being obedient to her most important responsibility. What a great example of faith and dedication.

Rebecca called this afternoon and all of her children (at home, that is — her oldest is at college) took turns telling Mom how much they love her. Then at the end, they said it all together with an enthusiastic, “Aloha!” They live in Hawai’i and Mom has found many opportunities to go visit them. Who wouldn’t want to? Hawai’i has always held a special place in Mom’s heart.

Later this evening, Rachel’s children called to express their love. Rachel’s children are a bit younger, so not everyone can speak yet, but we still heard from them all regardless. It was very sweet to hear from her beautiful children also. Mom loved every minute of it. Rachel was lamenting that her kids couldn’t say something like, “Aloha!” at the end… they don’t really have an equivalent in Boston. We tried to come up with some ideas, but something like “Yo!” just doesn’t have the same ring to it.

Jason and Tiffany joined Rachel, Joseph, Angie, and me in our singing tonight. Her eyes were already drooping when we started, so we sang her to sleep and then sang a little more together. Mom slept a lot today, and her swallowing and coughing are weaker. She hasn’t been able to drink as much and she has eaten only a few spoonfuls of food all day. Her breathing has been a little more labored also. In her most “present” moments, she still loves to just look at each of us and listen to us reminiscing.

Jon is arriving tonight and Rebecca is flying back out tomorrow night and arriving Thursday morning. It will be good to see everyone again. We’ve been so overwhelmed by all the love and support that we’ve received over the past few months. Thank you all.

The Treasure Boxby Jim

This morning I made palacsintas for breakfast and Rachel whipped up some whipped cream. I asked Mom if she wanted to lick the beaters, and since she didn’t say no, we gave her some. Who doesn’t like a little fresh whipped cream off of a beater?

Throughout the day, I’m frequently saying, “We sure love you, Mom,” or just, “I love you,” or, “We love you.” This morning, when I said it, she started to try and say something back. It was very faint, but she distinctly started saying, “I love… I love,” but couldn’t quite get the words out. “You love us, too?” I offered. Then she just mouthed the words with a look of relief on her face, “I love you, too.” That was all I heard from her all day.

Angie and Rachel went to run some errands and I think Joseph was catching up on some work, so it was pretty quiet this morning. Dad had a few minutes to sit alone with Mom and I could hear him talking softly to her from the other room. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could sense his sweet kindness in the sound of his voice.

This afternoon Dad put on Fiddler on the Roof, one of Mom’s favorites. It was fun to listen to the wonderful music while I tried to get a little work done from my bedroom. Of course, I still have the music stuck in my head, but I don’t really mind since I love it, too.

Spring is springing here in Georgia and there are a few trees that have blossoms that have opened in the last day or so. Mom loves gardening so much that we figured she would like to go and see her trees. We loaded her in the wheelchair and rolled her down to the pool room where her indoor lemon tree is potted. We helped her to smell the one blossom that has bloomed on that tree and then showed her the peach tree outside that has little pink blossoms all over it. It was a little cold and wet outside, so we just admired the tree from the comfort of the house.

For Family Home Evening tonight, after our opening song and prayer, we took turns reading from a little wooden box Mom kept in her office. It is shaped like a little treasure chest and has little slips of paper inside and the words “My Treasure Box of Precious Memories” on top. She started writing down special memories on a little slip of paper and storing them inside. She had about 20-30 inside. I’m not sure how long she’s been doing it, but I got the impression is was in the last several years. There were things in there about going to weddings, going to high school performances, things from way back, like details about our births, etc. It was a great activity.

Tonight we sang to Mom again, as we always do. Jason joined us, as he has these last few nights, and we sang Mom to sleep. At one point, Angie said, “We love you.” Mom’s eyes widened a bit — her indication over the last few days that she is very present and aware at that moment. Her eyes were replying, so Angie spoke the words for her: “And we know you love us, too.” Mom nodded.

It was another very sweet day with our mother. Thank you for all your prayers, love, and support. We know many of you wish you could be here; we’re grateful for your care and concern. We hope you still feel a part of things through these posts.

Sweet Sabbath Experiencesby Jim

Mom continues to get weaker each day. Yesterday we weren’t able to get her to eat or drink much of anything, but today we were much more diligent (especially Dad) in making sure Mom was hydrated. We really don’t want to put in an IV unless we need to, and as long as Mom can still swallow, we’ll keep giving her water instead. Mom was really a trooper and drank sip by sip throughout the day. Several times, Dad explained to her that we know it’s hard for her to keep drinking, but we want to keep her comfortable. She gave no indication of a response, so one of the times, Dad turned to Angie and said, “Well, at least she’s not resisting.” Angie replied, “That’s because she thinks you’re irresistible!” Mom’s eyebrow quirked up and her eyes widened a bit, making it clear that she had heard and understood the quip, and enjoyed it.

We listened to the soundtrack of Rob Gardener’s Lamb of God this morning. It is amazing how much the meaning of that beautiful music has deepened for us over the last year. We’ve faced some difficult challenges, and our testimony in the comforting and enabling power of the Atonement has been strengthened. There are times in our lives when our circumstances have a bitter sting, but we are never alone: the Savior Himself felt overwhelmed by what he was called to bear, and asked if the cup could pass from Him. But He endured and overcame, making it possible for us to do the same. Mom knows this, and we’re continuing to learn from her.

Rachel arrived this morning and she sat with Mom and told her some memories from her childhood. Afterwards, Angie, Rachel, and I sang to Mom for a bit. She got sleepy and so we let her nap for a couple hours after lunch. I’m pretty sure I got a faint smile from her after she woke up and Dad was giving her more water.

Something very special happened this afternoon when the young men from the ward came to bring us the sacrament. We were under the impression it was going to be just a few boys, but we probably had 16 young men in our living room. They started by singing a hymn and then administered the sacrament. Three of the boys were in Boy Scout uniform and after the sacrament, each of the three sat down next to Mom to personally express their gratitude for Mom’s service in helping them achieve the rank of Eagle Scout. One of the young men was very emotional and couldn’t hold back the tears. It was very touching to see the love these young men have for my mom. Dad said a few words on Mom’s behalf about her experiences in the calling. He said it was difficult for her — in fact, probably the hardest calling she’s had — but that she persevered, faithfully served, and now she has left a legacy in this ward that will continue to bless their young men for many years.

It is getting to the point that we can’t get any response out of her most of the time. Instead of nodding or shaking her head, she usually will just look at us. We’re also not sure how much her memory loss has progressed, though she continues to recognize family and friends. We were talking about Mom’s memory and someone asked Mom, “Do you remember you’re amazing?” We all we saw her faint nod, which made us all laugh.

This evening we sang to Mom again and we were able to sing 4-part harmonies. With five of us here, I got to sing bass with Joseph, which was fun. We sang some Easter hymns and some Christmas hymns tonight before sending Mom to bed. Since Joseph and Rachel just got here, the two of them sat with Mom in her bedroom to chat with her and sing a little more before Mom fell asleep.

This Frail Existenceby Jim

Mom said very little today.  Jon got a faint “good morning,” but she didn’t say much more than that all day.  We had some visitors this morning: Dad’s cousin, Ann, and her partner, Sue, stopped by to visit for a few minutes on their road trip to the east coast.  It was good to see them and to chat for a bit.

We took advantage of having a superb pianist in the house and had Joseph play for us this morning.  I could tell Mom enjoyed it.  Her smiles are getting fainter, but you can still see them in her eyes.  She always loved listening to Joseph play the piano.

After our concert, Jason’s wife and girls came to visit.  They sat with their grandmother and sang and told her stories. Tiffany held 4-month-old Claire on the bed near Mom, reaching out a tiny hand to stroke Mom’s and wrap her baby fingers around her grandma’s thumb.  Claire was very happy and Mom’s eyes were shining — it was clear that they both enjoyed the visit.  Mom sure loves her grandbabies.

Jon had to leave this afternoon.  His presence here has been a great strength to us.  Thanks for helping with our posts and for singing with us and everything else you did.  We look forward to your return next week.

I spent some time talking to Mom again, like I’ve done over the past few days, telling her stories from our childhood.  Even though she doesn’t talk, I feel a connection with her.  I could see her love in her beautiful eyes in the way she looked back at me.  Many times throughout the day, each of us tell Mom that we love her.  Days ago, she would always reply with, “I love you, too.”  I have begun telling her, “and I know you love me too,” because I can see that she wants to reply but can’t.

A funny and unexpected moment happened today while we were sitting around Mom’s hospital bed. She had people sitting on either side of her and someone was talking to her.  Dad came around the foot of the bed and Mom caught his eyes looking at her.  She followed him with her eyes for a moment and then suddenly, Dad ducked and pretended to sneak around the bed.  Mom actually laughed out loud at his antics, which surprised us all.

The following was written by Joseph, who offered to contribute to tonight’s post.  Thanks, Joey, for helping us document the day.

Mom is now to the point where she does not respond to most questions that you ask her. You might ask, “Are you thirsty?” or “Would you like to watch some Studio C?” and she will just look at you, and you know that she can hear you, but it seems very difficult for her to find a way to reply. That is, unless it is something she has a very strong opinion on, and then we may get a little quiver of her head to indicate a nod yes or no. We’ve experimented with other ways to communicate yes and no, like blinking, or squeezing, or pointing to the “Yes/No” sign, but all have become too difficult for Mom to coordinate at this point. So, for now, the best we can hope for is an occasional little hint of a nod or shake of the head to let us know her desires.

One humorous example of her feeling compelled to share her opinion was during “music time” today. I had exhausted all of the classical and sacred piano repertoire that I had brought to share, and I wanted to lighten the mood, so I had moved on to some musical theater selections. We sang “People Will Say We’re in Love” from Oklahoma and “I Whistle a Happy Tune” from King and I and many others. Then I came to “Nothing Like a Dame” from South Pacific, and I said, “Hey Mom, here’s one that Dad might want to sing for you!” I started to play the chorus and sang out, “There is nothing like a dame, nothing in the world…” Then, wanting to make sure Mom was enjoying this, I paused and turned to ask her if she wanted to hear that one. She gave her strongest and clearest “no” of the day: her eyes got wide and her head gave a little shake back and forth. Needless to say, we moved on to other songs!

Another fun and very memorable moment was when Dad joined in the singing and serenaded Mom, singing “On the Street Where You Live”. It was very sweet. Only problem was he started forgetting some of the words, and inventing new ones of his own, which got Mom smiling and even laughing out loud (which is rare now).

At one point in the evening, I had the special experience of sitting close to Mom and we just looked into each other’s eyes for a while. After a little while, I said “Hi, Mom”, and her eyes seemed to light up a little, as if to say, “Hi” back. So, looking deeply into her eyes,  I said it again, “Hello, Mom”. And her eyes lit up even more and it was like we both understood in that moment that I wasn’t saying hello to her body, which was unable to say anything back, but to her spirit, which was able to say “hello” back with wonderful clarity. Her spirit is still very strong, though it seems to be preparing to leave her body very soon.

Then, in a tender moment, Dad and I sat on both sides of Mom and talked a little about her approaching departure from this life. I can’t remember the exact words, but we both expressed to her our gratitude and love. We said that even though we would miss her sorely, we recognized and accepted that her time left on earth was short. Dad then offered to give Mom a priesthood blessing, which we proceeded to do, with Jason, Jim, and me participating, too.

After the blessing, it was getting close to Mom’s usual bedtime, so we all decided to continue our tradition of singing to Mom as the last thing we do before she sleeps. Tonight we enjoyed full 4-part harmony with Jim on melody, Angie on soprano or alto, Jason on tenor, and me on bass. We sang probably a dozen hymns, and then we told Mom it was time for bed. She somehow seemed reluctant, so Jim asked, “Do you want to stay up and do some more singing?” She gave a very clear yes with a little nod of the head, so we sang for probably another hour, even venturing out into a few Christmas hymns. It was a very sweet evening. It is amazing to me how many hymns have new meaning now, given our present experiences.