a common phrase I’ve heard and used all my life. For my grandchildren, or those who may have never heard that phrase, it basically means that after all is said and done, or after it is all over, what really matters is ______(fill in the blank). For me, it all boils down to the people I am blessed to have in my life.
I won't be able to attend our Enrichment activity tonight because I'm going to a conference with Gary. It sounds like it will be very fun. The theme is very intriguing.
"What can't you live without?"
Each person is supposed bring it (or something representing it) in a paper bag . Then they'll have 30 seconds to explain it. Excluded are your family and your scriptures.
I was thinking of maybe chocolate, or cake, or bread, or reading. But then I realized that the thing I would miss the very most, and that would have a big impact on my life if I didn't have them, are my hearing aids.
I would live in a very very quiet world without them. My hearing loss is very profound and without them I hear very very little. All the family knows to touch me and then mouth the words very loudly to me when I don't have them in. Even with them in I don't catch a lot of what people are saying, particularly if I'm not looking at them and reading their lips. Whispers just don't work for me. I can't really understand what is being said on TV, even with the volume really loud. Closed captioning has made a world of difference in that way.
I think what I would miss the most without my hearing aids is hearing the little voices of my grandchildren and just being able to connect with people. I'm very, very grateful that I live in a time when there is the technology that makes hearing possible for me.
I feel very blessed. (One) husband who knows just what I want (Chicos!). (Two) wonderful son-in-laws,
(Three) beautiful daughters, and (Eight) grandchildren who I love with all my heart.
I haven't even had to ring the bell much today. It has all been done for me freely. There is nothing like words and pictures made with love from those you love.
Sorry, Misty and Tiffany, you're not here to defend yourselves on this!
Breakfast for Dinner cooked by Natalie and Gary.
With my favorite syrup that I love so much I practically drink it!
When Mom was released from the hospital she was given only one restriction. That when she attended the wedding events, she was to use a wheelchair, so she wouldn't tire out too much. I guess they knew her heart had only so many beats left in it.
Here is Mom as she is being wheeled out of the temple.
Mom did not buy a lot of clothes in her life. (She preferred to buy them for her daughters!) It was such fun for me to go shopping with her to get dresses for the wedding. We went to a shop downtown and found not one, but two, green dresses. One she could wear during the day and the other to the reception. I had to insist she get both, and she finally gave in, but it went against her nature. (Somehow I've never had that problem).
I think you can tell she was adored by her grandchildren.
Everyone had a lot of fun teasing her in the wheelchair. As I watched it, it was me who just about had a heart attack!
A beautiful shot with both Grandmas
The luncheon was held at a bed and breakfast across from the temple. We had a slide show at the luncheon that had pictures of Misty and Dan as they were growing up. My brother told me later how much Mom had enjoyed that. Especially the picture of my Dad holding Misty when she was a baby.
The reception that night was beautiful.
Of course the bride and groom were the stars of the night, but Mom came in a close second.
She was able to visit with her sisters and almost all her nieces and nephews and grandchildren. After everything she had been through in the last month, everyone loved seeing her and visiting with her.
I've always been glad there was some fudge there on the table for Mom to eat. That was always her favorite candy.
Once the reception was winding down, we sat and watched as Misty threw the bouquet and the girl cousins sang their "Nobody" song. Singing that song, with choreography, had been a tradition since they were young. Mom had such fun watching them perform that.
I was so happy to be able to sit and visit with Mom during that time. Mom told me how beautiful everything had been. I told her "I'm just so glad you are here." She nodded her head and said, "Me, too." As it was time for Gary and Lynn and Mom to leave, I went out to the car and handed Mom the keys to our house (they were going to drop gifts off there) and told her I would see her in the morning.
Once we got home I wanted to call Mom and get her "play-by-play" of the whole day. Mom was a wonderful conversationalist and always made astute and interesting observations. But we starting bringing in gifts, and by the time we were done, I thought it was too late to call. I thought we could talk in the morning. I guess that is my only regret. I wish I had called.
The next morning we got the phone call from my brother, Gary. Mom had passed away in the night. They heard her get up sometime around 3:00 am and then heard her go back to bed. When they checked on her at about 7:00, they found her in her bed. Sometime in-between she had gone from a peaceful sleep to a joyous reunion with my Dad.
My brother said the last thing she said before she went to bed that night was, "Wasn't this the most perfect day."
For me, it was the most perfect day. My daughter had gotten married and my Mom was there to share that day with us. And though it was so hard to lose her, we knew that we had been the recipients of great gifts. The gift of a Mother's Love and numerous manifestations of of Miracles and Tender Mercies.
At Mom's funeral my brothers spoke of Mom's two heart attacks and how, while she had been "out," that Dad had probably been there saying "Come on, I've been without you long enough, you're coming with me." And that Mom said, "No I am not leaving now, I am going to be there for Misty's wedding. I'm not going to let anything spoil that day for them."
I think that is a very likely scenario, as anyone who knows my Mom knows she would have stood firm in defense of anything involving her children. I also don't think Dad would have put up too much of a fuss at that point, as he wouldn't have wanted to spoil the day either.
I would love to hear other's remembrances of Mom's last day upon this earth or of the miraculous events leading up to it. I would love to hear your observations or conversations you may have had.
In the meantime, I'm still looking forward to getting that "play-by-play" from Mom at some later date.
Mom was ready to come home, but we knew she could not be alone. The plan was that Misty and Dan would live in her basement after the wedding. But in the meantime, she would stay at our house until Gary and Lynn came in for the wedding and she could go to her home with them
Even though it was stressful, this was a very sweet time for me. Because we live in Provo, as Mom and Dad had, there had never been a reason for her to spend the night like she did with Charlene and Richard in Salt Lake and Gary and Tom in California. While here, she seemed to thoroughly enjoy watching the wedding preparations and the comings and goings of a busy household. I can still picture her face and laughter on one occasion when we were sitting at the table talking. Gary came downstairs and held up a pair of his nice leather shoes. He didn’t say a word, but he didn’t have to. Mom and I exchanged glances and then started laughing. The shoes now had the tassels chewed halfway off. It wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last, that our bunny had destroyed a pair of his shoes. Mom got such a kick out of that.
Mom had come home from the hospital on a Sunday. On Wednesday morning, just after Tiffany and Natalie left for school, she came downstairs to the kitchen and said, “I think the pain in my chest from the “paddles” has finally gotten better. She sat down at the table, almost instantly she collapsed with her head hitting the table, her glasses flying, and her body slumping over. I went over and put my arms around her from the back and held her saying, “Oh Mom, Mom.” I remember looking around wondering if Dad was there ready to take her with him.
What kept going through my mind was that I wasn’t supposed to revive her, but how could I just sit here? I yelled to Misty to call 911. She was downstairs, and did so. She said, “Mom, they said to start CPR.” My response was that I wasn’t supposed to. She said again, “Mom, you need to start CPR.” So we lowered her to the floor and I started the CPR. After going through a few of the sequences (still fresh on my mind from two weeks previously), I said, “Misty, she’s gone.” Misty again said, “Mom, you need to keep doing it.” As I did that, I’ll never forget seeing the shudder of breath come back into her and watching her chest rise when she started breathing again.
By the time the paramedics arrived she was breathing on her own, and by the time she was at the hospital she was asking where she was. In the emergency room the Dr, who after a cursory exam and chewing me out for resuscitating when the records said not to, sent her straight to a floor. That night before I went home, Mom was sitting up talking with us and visiting with her sisters.
Leaving her that night, my heart was full of such emotion, the strongest being the feeling of horror that I almost hadn’t tried to bring her back. Even if she hadn’t survived it, I would have still been grateful that I had done what I could. Thankfully, Misty was there to urge me on, or I’m sure I would have regrets today.
The miracle here besides the fact that she survived? One moment’s difference. Had she not come downstairs the moment she did, I would have gone upstairs a little later and found her in the bed already gone. Lucky that she happened to come down so we were able to do CPR? I don’t think so. It was more than luck.
After another day in the hospital, Mom came to our house again. It was now just a little over a week until the wedding. Again, I felt so blessed to have her here with us. Mom had never been one comfortable with thinking or talking about death, but there was a whole different feeling of peace and calm about her now. It gave me the feeling that, though she didn’t remember any of these episodes that on some level there was a new understanding or remembrance of an afterlife.
Mom had often related to us how she had missed her Dad much more after her Mom died than she had before. The explanation being, that as long as her Mom was alive, then a part of her Dad was also. I still remember her response during one of our conversations were I recalled and related that same feeling to her. I said, “You can’t go, Mom, because then we will have lost both of you.” She kind of shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well, if I die, I die.” Very accepting. Very at peace with it. We had not told Mom of the Doctor's dire diagnosis, because we did not want her to live in fear. I was horrified when I saw Mom looking at the emergency doctor's notes The ones that said she was not be resuscitated and “yet the daughter had anyway.” She looked at me and calmly said, “Well, what are you supposed to do, just sit there and watch me die?” I still feel that pain and anxiety in my heart when I remember those emotions.
Gary and Lynn came in a few days before the wedding and Mom went to her home with them. Words cannot express the love and appreciation I feel toward my sister and brothers. During both Dad and Moms lives, illnesses, and subsequent deaths they were right there with them. Never was there a feeling of aloneness, but always the knowledge that any and all of us would do whatever was needed to support Mom and Dad and each other. The flights in from California, vigils at the hospital with Dad, the unceasing support of Mom once Dad was gone. It never waned. I feel it even now, years after Mom and Dad are gone.
April 29, 1995, dawned bright and beautiful. It began early in Manti, Utah, at the LDS Temple. I had not seen Mom yet that morning, but I remember looking across the sealing room, making eye contact, and exchanging smiles. I felt so blessed to have her there.
We have some wonderful pictures of Mom on that day. They can tell the story much better than I can.
But, I’ll have to post those tomorrow. (I still need to scan them in).
Most people reading this blog already know the story
because they lived it with me.
But I want to record the facts and the feelings of wonder
I still feel whenever I think of it.
I don't ever want it lost to my grandchildren.
It is a story of a mother’s love and determination,
of a Heavenly Father who is aware of us,
and of miracles and blessings.
Fourteen years ago, in April of 1995, there was a lot going on in our family. I guess I should start with the year before, beginning in September of 1994. It had been a year since Dad had passed away and Mom was starting to experience health problems. In September she had emergency surgery for and was hospitalized with a blood clot in her leg. At the same time, Gary was laid off from Word Perfect and we were unemployed for 3 months. Misty announced that she was getting married (not a problem, because we loved Dan, it was the timing that made it a bit stressful). Natalie was hospitalized for a week with a bad infection. Gary’s mom fell and dislocated her shoulder. Our bunny disappeared for two weeks (and finding him was a tender mercy in itself). I think you get the drift. It felt like life was falling apart.
By the time the first of April came, Gary was once again employed, the wedding plans for April 29 were coming along fine, and Mom seemed to be doing well. On the Saturday night before General conference we went to a bridal shower for Misty at my sister’s house in SaltLake. The next day we had lunch here at the house with Mom and Gary’s Mom and sat down to watch General Conference. Mom was sitting by me as I was folding wedding invitations. She made the comment that “she would help, but that her hands didn’t work like they used to.” A moment later I looked at Mom and her head was on her chest. I think my heart stopped for a moment as I said, “Mom, Mom.” No response. By that time we were all up and trying to get her to respond. I called 911 and they instructed us to start CPR. So while I relayed their instructions, Gary and Dan lowered her to the floor and began CPR. They were still trying to revive her when the paramedics came and used the defibrillator on her. After several tries, she started breathing again. In the emergency room she had several seizures and was in intensive care for three days. We didn’t know if she would come out of it, or if she did what her condition would be.
We were so relieved as she slowly came to, with just short term memory loss. Even that went away within a week. I clearly remember one day in the hospital when she was still having a little memory loss. My brothers were in the room with us and she was asking what she had she missed when she had her memory loss. They were teasing her about it. I can still picture her laughing when they told her that, “She had actually been in a coma for a year and that during that time Annette had stolen all her money.” If I remember right, they even got out a checkbook to show her. It makes me laugh even now as I picture that scene in my mind.
Mom remained in the hospital for two weeks, which put the wedding now just two weeks away. It was during that time that they took her in to do an angiogram. As we waited, the Dr. came back into the waiting room after a very short time. He had started the angiogram and just stopped. The first thing he said to us when he came out was, “I can’t believe this woman is alive, let alone sitting up eating breakfast just a short while ago.” He said something to the effect that "her arteries were 99% blocked, her heart 99% gone, that this would surely happen again, and soon, and that when it did we shouldn’t resuscitate because it would put her through too much and she would never survive." These were not the words we expected or wanted to hear.
But we knew at that point that the miracles had already begun. First of all, Mom lived alone and, other than when someone was visiting with her, was by herself every night and most of every day. The fact that she was at our home, sitting with all of us, was amazing in itself. That she survived at all was miraculous.
But the wonders don't stop there.
(to be continued tomorrow -- this is taking me a long time to write!)
But yesterday when I came home from the dentist, I found this gorgeous quilted table topper sitting on my back doorstep. I knew immediately who it was from.
When my friend, Dianne, talks of her quilting projects, I have hinted (not too subtly) how much I would love a spring/summer colored version. She gave me a beautiful earth-toned one a few years ago.
I so appreciate the workmanship and time spent imagining and creating it. It brings to my mind patience, and beauty, and friendship. The colors and patterns remind me of sunshine and blue sky, and light, and fun, and hope,
As the saying goes, “parting is such sweet sorrow. “
Sometimes, however, it hasn’t always felt so sweet
and has in fact been very heart wrenching.
During one of those difficult times for me,
I came across a history of my great-great grandparents,
Archibald and Agnes Adamson Anderson.
It tells of them being converted to the LDS faith in 1847 in Scotland.They had given birth to ten children, five of which died in childhood and one who died in young adulthood. (As if that alone is not enough heartache for a lifetime).Of the four living children, the three young sons joined the church when the parents did, but the older daughter did not and married a Presbyterian minister.
At that time members of the church were encouraged to immigrate to America, but after three years of saving they still did not have enough money.It was decided that the father would go on ahead to earn money and pave the way for the rest of the family. He left for America in 1855.
To quote from the history:
“It was on March 10, 1856 when the Anderson’s- Agnes (the Mother), Archibald Adamson, John, and James (the sons) said farewell and goodbye to loved ones and friends and began the long tedious trip to join their husband and father.The agony of parting so long anticipated and dreaded was upon them.In spite of the prayers and the faith they had in the Gospel and in their Heavenly Father, saying goodbye under these circumstances was one of the most difficult experiences of all.
One of James’ daughters, at a much later time wrote: ‘Many times I heard my father say, “It’s hard to erase the vision before my eyes, when our sailing vessel pulled out of the docks and left Agnes (the daughter and sister) with a baby in her arms sobbing her heart out, knowing that she may never see her loved ones again, and she never did.”'
Ok, that last paragraph
is what gives me perspective.
I may live far away from many family members I love,
Everyone agreed that this picture fit her perfectly. She was well loved because she loved so well.
I felt quite amazed as we sat in the chapel waiting for the immediate family to come in from the family prayer. I looked at the three rows that were filled with all of Aunt Beth's nieces and nephews, and realized that all but three of my Grandmother and Grandfather Hall's grandchildren were in attendance at the funeral. Only one first cousin has passed away and the other two were unable to come from out of state. I thought of Gran and Dad Hall and how it must feel to see almost all of your grandchildren, ages 50 to 72, gathered together to honor their daughter and our aunt.
As I sat there I mentioned to my brother-in-law that I wished I could take a picture but that it probably wouldn't be appropriate. In spite of that, both he and Natalie offered to do it, and Natalie went up front and snapped this picture. Not a great one, because she would have had to stand on a bench to really get everyone, but nevertheless one I will treasure. Aunt Beth was buried in the Springville Evergreen cemetery where many family members are buried. Here are Gary, Me, Richard, and Charlene (we missed you Tom) standing in front of our grandparent's headstone.
Can you tell it is very windy and bitterly cold? We roped in a few of the cousins as they were walking to their cars On our way home I had Gary drive past Aunt Beth's house and the house my Mom grew up in.
It really is SPRING.
The snow has melted off the curb!
There is a SPRING in my step.
(and my step is just little sore after attending a zumba class)
Description of Zumba: "Latin workout that burns calories, promotes fun. Horns blare, drums pound, timbales keep time while 40 women shake, shimmy and swivel in unison. Whoops and hollers ring out as a petite redhead with the best abs on the planet leads the women through the salsa, cumbia, cha-cha, samba, mambo and merengue."
PLEASE DON'T LAUGH AS YOU PICTURE ME DOING THAT!
There is SPRING in my heart
as I think of my wonderful son-in-law, Justin,
who has a birthday today!
SPRING reminds me of the blessings
of the the Atonement,
of Rebirth,
and of the knowledge that one day we will be reunited with
all those we love who have moved on from this life.
Which I feel very poignantly right now.
An interesting combination, I know. Grateful for Yoga because I felt better going and doing it than I have all week. I learned something, also. In yoga when you have a cold it is best to do poses that open up your chest. That makes a lot of sense, but is just the opposite of what you naturally want to do when you don't feel well. At least what I want to do is curl up into a ball. But, actually, you do feel better when you expand your chest. A lesson learned today about more than yoga.
As for cell phones, Gary's car broke down and I had to tow it. I HATE doing things like that because I feel such uncertainty on what I should do. However, with my cell phone on speaker and Gary on the line in the car being towed behind me, he was able to coach me on what to do and reassure me I was doing great. I think there is another lesson learned today about more than just towing and cell phones, and more about keeping the lines open.
I went for a walk this morning which, in and of itself, is somewhat of a rare occurrence. I can't think of a more beautiful place in the world than my own neighborhood, with the Y Mountain to the east standing as a wall of protection (against what, I don't know, but it makes me feel secure anyway).
On this day, August 29, 2008, I had a special feeling in my heart knowing that within a few hours a new grandchild would come into our lives--another soul to love, nourish, and worry about. It made me want to write my feelings (another rare occurrence), so I thought I'd do it as a blogspot.
