The Last Dance

This week was a tough week.  This week we were told that my dad's cancer has progressed from Stage 3 to Stage 4.  The cancer that was once contained in a tumor in his left lung has now spread into the lymph nodes around his lung and into his liver.  While we knew this news was inevitable since he stopped chemo treatments in October because every treatment was so tough on his body that he would land in the hospital with his platelets being under 1,000, it is still tough to hear because you know that short of a miracle it means that by this time next year he will probably no longer be with us.  While we get some comfort from knowing that he will be hanging out with mom up in heaven, (I can already picture her cleaning and baking eclairs just to get ready for him ;-0 ) I still selfishly think of the void that will be in our lives without him.  It's strange though because this week I have found myself thinking much more of mom than of dad.  Mom's death was by far the most difficult thing I have ever gone through in my life.  The final weekend of her life brought every emotion I think a person can feel....

It started out as every weekend had since July when mom had moved back home and decided to stop chemo treatments because no matter how much chemo they gave her the cancer was just too aggressive and continued to spread.  Prior to that mom had been living with Charles and I in Phoenix so that we could have her evaluated at the Mayo clinic and then treated by one of the top oncologists in the area.  Anyway, after her move back home I would travel from Phoenix to Sierra Vista every weekend to visit with her and help out around the house.  My bosses were amazing and gave me every Friday off so that every weekend with her was a three day weekend.  Her final weekend was extra special though because my sister would be there from California and she was bringing the man she was dating at the time, Larry, who she would later marry.  But for me, it was the typical weekend, head down to Sierra Vista, get to the house, do some housework, make sure we had plenty of food in the fridge and then sit in the Arizona room and visit with mom as people came and went from the house visiting her.  By the end of the day Friday my sister had arrived and my husband had also joined us for the weekend.  My sister's boyfriend was flying in the next day to join us.  We stayed up kinda late talking and visiting as a family and then when it was bed time mom asked me to help her back to bed.  This was the first weekend mom had actually needed help getting up from the couch and some support in walking.  I helped her to stand up and then she told me it would be easiest if she could just walk behind me and steady herself by holding onto my shoulders.  No sooner we were in position and mom says "conga line" and before you knew it we were all doing a conga line as we cha cha'd down the hallway to mom's bedroom.  We laughed and it was a time of great joy and a typical fun moment that mom was great at creating.  It was the last time she would ever do any kind of dance.

The next morning Tina left for the airport to pick up her boyfriend and Dad and Charles headed off into town to get some haircuts and run a few errands.  Dad and I had helped mom out of bed and back into the Arizona room for another day of visitors.  After everyone left and I had done a few things for mom I sat down on the couch in the Arizona room next to her to visit.  We sat there holding hands and just chatting about the weekend.  Mom looked tired so I asked her if she wanted to go back to her room and take a nap and she said she would rather just sit right there and doze.  I went to leave her alone but she asked me to stay so I did.  We sat there in silence enjoying the light breeze blowing through the windows and the sounds of the chirping birds. About a half hour later mom slumped over and I couldn't hear her breathing which is when pure fear ran through me as I tried to revive her and get her to open her eyes.  She finally did and was able to mutter that she wanted me to take her to bed.  It took all of my strength to get her up and down the hallway and into bed.  I of course called my dad immediately to come home as I just knew that this was the decline that would take her life and I knew she would want my dad with her. 

After that mom had times where she was awake for short periods of time.  She remained that way for all of Saturday and Sunday with her time awake becoming less and less.  These days were very numb trying to make sense of what was happening.  It was happening and I so wanted to stop it but couldn't.  By Monday she was almost always unconscious.  She would squeeze a hand now and then and attempt to open her eyes.  Her final words came to me on Monday, September 27th, 2004 at 10:36 A.M. when she smiled, squeezed my hand and said, "you're a good girl".  She took her final breath the next day and went to be with the Lord.  The feeling then was unbelievable pain and despair.

Mom and I dancing at my wedding.