14 Days and 14 Nights

I took complete care of my mother and loved her with all of my heart. I bathed her, cleaned her up, groomed her, fed her and walked her almost every day in her wheelchair around the San Fernando Valley. I took her everywhere she could go with me to provide for her a wonderful life.

Then within two weeks things changed. My beautiful mother stopped eating. Neither one of us understood what was going on as I cried, begged and pleaded with her to eat something but she wouldn't. I did not realize it was not a choice, it was not her fault. I was angry, frustrated, and desperate. I always kept her alive for thirty some years starting with her first major heart attack as I was always in charge of her health issues and there were so many over the years. Multiple heart attacks, open heart surgery, Hodgkins cancer, breast cancer, mastectomy and on and on. I always watched over the doctor’s care and she always pulled through. I loved her as she loved me "more than anything in this world".

Then for two weeks, she suddenly couldn't stand, couldn't eat and slowly went downhill. I called hospice, they arrived and said, 'you know she is dying' and I walked around the house with tears flowing. I did not believe them as she was never diagnosed with anything. I thought 'maybe they are wrong'.

I am an only child and was all alone 24/7 up all night taking care of her pains which started coming. They left me morphine and I would have to look into my beautiful mother’s eyes and beg her to take it to sleep and relieve the pain. I told her I can't fix anything but can only take away the pain, please allow me. But still we both didn’t understand what was going on. I didn't understand or accept that our bodies shut down and only last so long. Then by the last two days, mother and I realized that this was not going to get better.

I walked into her room one morning and she was lying with her leg out of the bed, very low on the bed and she state that she could not swallow. I moved her and positioned her higher in the bed and gave her some Insure to drink, she swallowed it and we continued from there.

Upon finding out mom was not going to get better (within the hour) the three-month relationship girlfriend I was with left me which I considered at the time, the cruelest thing I had ever experienced. I felt all the love in my life was leaving me. In hindsight I realize that I lost unconditional love (mother) but the other was 'just a girlfriend' who though she said she loved me, really didn't. The pain was too great for her. She didn't want to be drug through it so alone in my home, all day and night I would start to hear 'ouch' more and more frequently. I would run to the store quickly being afraid to leave her alone and buy muscle pain lotions and anything I could find in an effort to relieve the pain. Finally that did not help and morphine in liquid form had to be placed under her tongue. Specific amounts measured, not to hurt her but enough to constantly keep the pain away. This was very challenging. I slept with her holding her hand every night for the most part because I knew she rested better.

By the last two days I knew the end was close and had finally accepted that all the signs were there. That hospice was correct and I was losing my beloved mother. They left me information on what the process looks like and I noticed all the signs. Mom would hold her hand to the side of my face and just stare into my eyes when I think we both realized the outcome was not going to be a good one. We would memorize each wrinkle and glimmer in our eyes with tears flowing as if to take away the pain of the experience we were going through together.

The last night I called my girlfriend to please come over. I begged her, she said yes, then I called a few hours later and she said she was not coming, she had diarrhea. I was desperate and in so very much mental anguish at the time, fearful for the outcome. I called my buddy Michael and he came over and spent the night. Together we sat mom up because that is what one has to do. To elevate her back so muscles and tongue and things don't bother her. By ten a.m. in the morning, I walked into her room and her breathing patterns were changing. Of course she wasn't awake but she was gasping for air with her eyes closed. My son called me from Arizona as I checked on her. Ten minutes later I went into the room and her breathing was extremely shallow. I sat on the chair next to the bed, held her hand, told her how much I loved her and that I will be okay. It is okay for her to leave. I would be alright. Her breathing within a few minutes slowed and stopped. Then it started again and I cried out in pain, please mother it is okay, I love you so much. I love you more than anything and that was her last breath.

I always 'saved' my mother’s life. Starting in San Diego thirty years ago when she complained of pain in her arm and I was adamant that we were not going to play golf but go to the hospital first. That night was her first major heart attack that she survived. I got my mother through everything and together, we always won the battle. To think that this time I couldn't save her was the most difficult reality I have ever faced.

I would ask repeatedly, do you want to go to the hospital if they can fix something and she would repeat, “No I love your care”. So together we went through the final battle that we could not win together and it tore my heart and insides out of my body in pain. Fourteen days and fourteen nights of pure hell but my mother was finally pain free and with God. I miss her every day of my life and love her more than is imaginable.