I wrote this earlier this month and never got a chance to come back and finish and then post it...
My mom has a bad habit of sleepwalking. It happens more when she is stressed about something and during this past year, it has revolved around my brother quite a bit. His drug use has stressed her to the max and she has worried an incredible amount. Whenever she sleepwalks, she calls me. No, really! I can't say that she does it every time, but I would say she certainly does it most of the time. Her husband is a truck driver so he is gone frequently and then worries himself sick about what his crazy wife might be doing at 3 a.m. Most of the time she is out in the backyard feeding the dogs, just got done feeding the dogs or is on her way to go feed the stupid overfed dogs!
I have figured out several tricks to get her inside and back in bed. My mother is a feisty red head who takes no bull from anyone and lets her opinion be known in no uncertain terms. During her 'episodes' she is quite the opposite. She is very compliant, totally non combative but still gets her feelings hurt easily. A little over a month ago, just before our 'funeral month' began, we had a very interesting night with her. I talked to her not once, but three times over the course of two hours. Two hours that were very eventful. I get the call, and if it's after 9, I know she's what I call asleepawake. Each time I talk to her I get her back in bed and hope for the best. I don't find out the extent of the evening until morning. We were actually in Enid that day so I was able to get the story in person. I ask "Mom, did you know you called me last night?" "I did?!" she says and then smiles... Evidently she called my step brother looking for me sometime after midnight. He knew something was up by how she sounded so he called his dad who then called her back. He tried to get her to go back to bed too. Mom said that before she went to bed (the first time) that she had 4 cigarettes. She smoked one and knew that the other 3 would last her through the morning so that she wouldn't have to go get more until around lunch. Well, it didn't surprise me at all the she smoked while shes busy feeding dogs in the dark of night, why not! But then she tells me that when she woke up (for real) in the morning she had two brand new, full packs of cigarettes!!!!! She actually went to the store and wrote a check and she doesn't remember a thing! We don't know if she got dressed or decided she might as well go out in her t-shirt and undies. I said "Maybe you should go to the quick shop and see if they remember you coming in and ask about your visit." She says "Maybe I'll never go there again!"
This is certainly funny and definitely alarming for obvious reasons. After the death of both my father and brother things got worse. One evening her husband calls all of us girls because he can't get my mom back in the house. She was in the back yard trying to get the gas can because she needed to take my brother some gas. Normally she will 'mind' me and go back in the house and ultimately back to bed. This time she was not only 'not nice' she cussed at me and tossed the phone down. Cliff was having a hard time trying to physically take her back in the house. I lied all over the place saying that it was taken care of. I told her that Adrian, my brother's best friend since childhood, had got gas and was on his way to where Danny was. This seemed to be the answer. As long as someone was taking care of it, she was okay.
Last Tuesday (March 11) I talked to her for hours. We talked off and on all day long. We talked while the boys played, we talked during yard work, we talked while I drove into town. My sisters had asked me a few different time where Grandma was (meaning her remains). I told them that the last thing I knew was that Mom wasn't ready to deal with it and she was still at the funeral home. I said "That was nearly 15 years ago and surely they 'clean house' once in a while, so who knows where she is." Well, while talking with my mom all day I asked her about Grandma. She told me that she was in California with Grandpa. She said that her asked had been scattered over the top of Grandpa's grave. Okay, I found Grandma! I talked to her until my phone was dead.When I got back home after running some errands I called her back. She sounded very tired even though it was early evening. Talking to my son I say "Danny, would you hand me that?" and she says "How is he doing?" My eyebrows went up wondering if she was asleepawake. I told her he was fine, without any details as to what Danny it might be. Then she asked if we were having a good visit. I told her we were and she asked me to have him call her later. This was very alarming for several reasons. It was the first time I had ever caused her to 'wake up' when I called her. She may have already been asleepawake, but I don't think so, she would likely have already called me. I got off the phone very quickly in hopes that she would go back to sleep, real sleep. Then she could really wake up. It was alarming because, again, she was assuming that my brother was alive and well. I have not and will never try to explain the truth to her while she is asleepawake. It would be like reliving the news for her, like it was the first time all over again.
What an eventful day this was turning out to be. My sister Renda called me and is very excited about something. "Guess what!!!? "Ronda found Grandma!" I perked up, thinking it odd that we both did that on the same day. "So did I!" I could almost hear Renda's forehead wrinkle up. "You did? How did you find her?" she asked. "I've been on the phone with mom all day and I asked her about it." I filled her in on what Mom told me and then she says "Oh, Bobbi, Ronda found her at the funeral home! She called there today and they went to look for her. Then they called her back and said "Yeah, she's here, in a FedEx box. We'll leave her in the office if you wanna come by and see her." I'm thinking 'see her? she what? the FedEx box, whoopteedoo!' Renda asked "Do you think we should tell Mom?" "I'll do it." I say. "I've been talking to her all day, when she calls me back I'll tell her." So we then have to discuss what is to be done with Grandma. There is a fourth plot beside my brother that Mom almost bought. Renda thinks that would be best for Mom, because she could go to all the grave sites at one time and Grandma would be here instead of California.
Ronda was having a difficult time dealing with Grandma. Not the grief from 15 years ago, but the fact that she was in a box in a storage closet for 15 years. She went on about it being disrespectful and how sad it was. Personally, I think it was more of an emotional displacement, meaning she was more upset about Dad and Danny, but focusing on Grandma. I was so not upset about the ashes being in a box, in a closet or tossed to the wind. I just don't care what you do with my body once I'm gone. I will be so overjoyed to meet my heavenly father that what happens to my earthly body is of no concern to me. But I want my friends to wear pink at my funeral!
Ring Ring, OH CRAP! IT'S MOM!!! I look at Stephen and ask "Are you sure I should tell her know?" He lifts his eyebrows and shrugs. I'm sure he's thinking "This could be bad and I don't want to be blamed for it!" So she's really awake and barely into our conversation I tell her "I have something to tell you and it's going to upset you. It's okay, no one's hurt, but you are going to be upset." I tell her everything that happened between the phone calls from my sisters and the funeral home and my mom starts to get hysterical and say "Oh my God, this is a nightmare!" She said it at least ten times. "No, it's not Mom! A nightmare would be if they cremated her and we didn't want that or they buried her and we wanted her cremated, or they spread her over Grandpa and we wanted her here. Those things are permanent and this isn't! This is easily fixable." She tells me they were suppose to send her to California. I asked her who was suppose to take care of things there and she didn't know. I really think that her intent was for that to happen but she never followed through with it because she just 'couldn't deal with it' at the time and then later she assumed it was done. Grandma fell through the cracks. "What do we do, Bobbi?!" she starts to ask still in semi-hysterics. "What do you want to do Mom, do you want to send her to California or bury her in the fourth plot here?" "I don't know, someone just tell me what to do!" she kept saying. I told her that Renda and I agreed that we should bury her here in the fourth plot and that one of us would take care of it tomorrow. I get her settled down and we talk about happier things and get completely off the subject of death and burials and FedEx boxes. We get off the phone on good notes and I assume the day is done.....I was wrong...
A few hours later my mom calls again. This time it's late and my heart starts to pound. I know before I answer that she is asleepawake. Reluctantly, I answer the phone "Hello?" "Bobbi, it's Mom. Your Dad and Danny are broke down on the side of the road with a flat tire and they need a ride. They are somewhere on May. Is that right? May?" "Yeah, May." I interject "I can go get them." Thoughts running through my head of my mother driving not just to the quick shop, but to Oklahoma city are terrifying! "Oh could you?" she asked. "I was gonna go and get them, but it's such a long drive. I would have to go all the way there and then all the way home and it would be nearly morning when we got back." "No Mom, I'll go take care of it, don't worry." Then she adds "Can they stay the night at your house? I can meet you half way tomorrow." I continue to assure her that everything is fine, I will pick them up, they will stay at my house and she and I will meet half way to Enid tomorrow for her to pick them up. And then just before we are getting off the phone so that I can 'go get them' she adds "Have them call me when they get there so I know they are okay." Crap. I can drive to Key West or Idaho, or for that matter I can fly to London to pick up, take gas to or visit my dead dad and brother, but I cannot, in any way produce them for a phone call that I know she will wait up for.
Sure enough, a little while later she calls back to check on them. Well, you and I both know they aren't broke down, they don't need to be picked up and they ain't at my house so what do I do? I lie some more. Good 'ole Adrian to the rescue! If they are with him, then they can't be at my house to talk to Mom on the phone! I tell her that Adrian has already picked them up and that he is taking them to his house and that we would work the rest out in the morning. She was satisfied with that and told me she was going to bed and to call her tomorrow. I let out a sigh of relief knowing that she really was going to bed, for real this time.
I didn't sleep soundly. I tossed and turned and finally got up. I watched my brother's memorial video and cried for a while. Then I went to bed and feel asleep.
Friday, March 14, 2008
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Strange Decisions
After leaving he funeral home we visited the same florist to pick out an arrangement for the urn. I helped pick it out this time in hopes that it would help get the job done faster. The week before I had told them I didn't care anything about what flowers they picked. It just seems so pointless. "Save your money when I die. No need to send flowers, I don't care, I'm dead." That was kind of my resounding theme as far as "When I die I want ...blah, blah,". Ronda saw a pretty casket with roses on the sides and roses embroidered on the inside top. She said "Oh, this is beautiful! I want this when I die." "Ronda," I replied, "That's an old lady casket!" She smiled and said "Well when they put me in it, I wanna be an old lady!" To that my response was "Pick whatever is cheap for me. I don't care, I'm dead.
Unlike the week before, we had to also visit the cemetery. Mom and Cliff, her new husband had picked two together for her and dad. Now, to normal people that has to sound just completely bizarre. First, since my mom and dad were together most of my life, Cliff will probably always be her 'new' husband. He is awesome and loves her so much. Cliff's wife passed away from cancer several years ago. They have two plots together and he will be buried next to her. That leaves my mom out in the cold, so for old times sake, she and my dad decided to still be buried next to each other....they were divorced. Tell me that not just weird! Okay, so there aren't two plots next to Cliff and Shirley...but there are some over and down a bit. That's what mom picked for her and Dad. They were in the middle of digging when the funeral home called about Danny's death and asked them to halt burial. We saw were they had to fill in the hole! They offered us two together and one up and over, but my response to that was "What else do ya got?" Near the end of the 'garden' that Cliff will be buried in there were three plots together. Two were cremation plots and one full burial. Cremation plots are just small plots, typically on an end or curve where they want to use the land, but can't fit a casket. Did you know when someone is cremated, instead of remains, they have cremains? I thought that was a cool word, kinda creepy, but cool anyway. As we are looking at the plots I said, "Okay, we want my dad here on the end, the middle one for my mom and then Danny right here." The cemetery guy says "Well traditionally, the husband is in the middle and the wife is on the right, (or left, I don't remember!) and the child is on the other side." I laughed out loud. Ronda said "Well that's good, because then if mom decides not to be cremated she can have the full burial plot." So I pour out a big dose of family reality when I chime in with "First of all, we aren't a traditional family and if I know my mother, she's gonna want to be in the middle. I guarantee you she will still want to be cremated, she always has." Done deal, Dad, Mom, Danny.
Back at Mom's house we still have to get a picture for the paper and then pictures for the slide show. She was worked up when we go there and just handed us a picture that a friend had just given us of Danny. Ronda wanted to get his wedding picture off the wall but she wasn't having it. "Take this one!" We looked at, and each other and I had to say "MOM! He's loaded in this picture! His eyes are half closed!" To prevent her from throwing anything at me, we took the picture. Later someone found another one and we took it down and used it. Mom didn't even notice the switch! She just didn't want to deal with at that time.
(skip this part to avoid graphic details)
My sisters and I went to see my brother's on/off girlfriend, Devon. Because of Danny's drug use, he had abandoned his family in Colorado but was not divorced. He still talked to his wife and still loved her. Not everyone is a Devon fan because of the situation. Was she the best thing that ever happened to Danny, no. Did she ever give me a reason to dislike her, no. It's a difficult situation. I love and adore my sister in law Tracie, who hates Devon and it's totally understandable. It's really uncomfortable riding this fence. We get to Devon's friends house and she lets us in to see her. When we walk in, she is sitting on the couch hunched over, rocking and crying. She stands up and I hug her and we just start to cry together. I feel so much pain for her. I just lost my brother and it hurts, but knowing that she had to go through finding him dead seems like a terrible nightmare. I know she was very nervous about us coming over there. Even though she didn't say it, I knew she was afraid that we would blame her. She start to tell us the events that culminated in Danny's death. Late the night before he came to her apartment, pretty loaded, but this wasn't out of the norm, especially for the last week. She said she asked him what he had taken but he said he was tired. He always said that! He would nod off mid sentence, but always because he was 'tired.' Nothing she described seemed out of the norm, no red flags that she 'should have' done something different than what she did. Sometime in the wee hours he got up and went out the back door and started vomiting, happens sometimes when you are very stressed from losing a parent or from loading your body with poison and more poison. He dropped a pill on his way out or in, and Devon pocketed it so he wouldn't take it. Danny always refused to lie down when he was 'just tired.' My dad was similar but he explained it as not wanting to go 'sleep off' a good high, or low I guess. Danny didn't seem to have that reasoning, just something he always did. He would pass out sitting up, and Devon, Mom and some friends had realized that you just leave him sitting, just leaned back a bit. So when Danny started to 'nod,' Devon propped him up on the couch so he wouldn't fall. Around 3 or 3:30 she woke up and heard him making some ugly breathing noises but had no idea that this was the 'death rattle' that is frequently heard in these situations. I do not hold her responsible for anything and I have no animosity towards her. There was no way that she could have known what was happening. She woke around 7 and noticed a silence. She went into the living room and saw him, not breathing and with foam covering his mouth. She ran over and started to scream his name and shake him. He was cold and already had signs of lividity and rigor. Devon's 12 year old son witnessed everything. She called 911 and they arrived within 2 minutes. She started calling my mom and my mom wasn't answering. She didn't leave details on the answering machine but just kept saying "Peggy, You have to call me back, now!" Mom called her back and Devon said "Danny won't wake up, he won't wake up!" and my mom screamed "Call 911!" "I did." Devon told her, "they are already here." My mom jumped in the pickup and flew over there. When Devon saw my mom running up to the door she motioned to a police officer and he went to stop her. He said "Danny went to sleep last night and he didn't wake up." My mom turned around and bent her knees and screamed "OH F***!" When Devon described this to us, I pictured exactly the posture that my mom would have had. Devon was shaking and could hardly get through the story. She was stuttering and bawling. During this I was getting shaky and felt like I could fall down. I held on to Devon, not only to love on her, but at that moment it was also so that I had a grasp on something to keep me upright. She had given the pill she had found to the police.
(resume reading for those that skipped)
Devon was widowed several years ago. Her late husband died of a drug overdose. Just knowing that, you can imagine the terrible pain she is living and reliving. The difference is, this time, she was there and saw everything. My sisters and I loved on her and kept telling her that if she needed anything to please call one of us. Renda kept telling her, "We don't mean, just this week or next, we mean 6 months from now, or longer." Her best friend, with whom she was staying with started to cry. She said it was nothing like this when her husband died. The family treated her like garbage and overstepped her decisions and it was a horrible ordeal. After his death they wanted nothing to do with her. "She wasn't even married to Danny and you guys are being so nice to her" she said. Jesus, the love of Jesus, that's what it is. We all told he how sorry we were that she had to go through that. She started to cry and say 'I should have' and I stopped her. I turned her towards me and looked into her eyes and said "I just read this scripture for my dad's service and it's the same now. The Lord knew when we would die before we were ever born. Devon, this IS NOT YOUR FAULT! There is nothing you could have done." She hugged me and thanked us all.
Again at my mother's house, which was packed all day with family and friends, we had to go through and get pictures. It was less fun this time. Partially because with added events in the day, we didn't have as much time. Partially because it was my brother and not my dad, young and not old, and a sad repeat of the previous week. (I should note here that at 57, my dad was NOT old, but compared to 36, well you get the idea). After seeming dad's video, several friends brought us photographs which was wonderful! Danny's video was going to be longer! We discussed songs and several people told us that Danny wanted "Crossroads" played as his funeral. Ronda had several picked out for hers as well. I don't remember if Renda picked out any for herself or not. I said "I don't care, I'm dead" and my sisters both rolled their eyes! We talked with mom, who was doing much better at this time, about the plots we picked at the cemetery. Ronda starts to tell her.. "The guys said that traditionally the husband is in the middle and the wife..." and mom interjects... "BULL SHIT, I'm getting the middle!" a sideways glance at Renda and we can't contain our laughter!
Unlike the week before, we had to also visit the cemetery. Mom and Cliff, her new husband had picked two together for her and dad. Now, to normal people that has to sound just completely bizarre. First, since my mom and dad were together most of my life, Cliff will probably always be her 'new' husband. He is awesome and loves her so much. Cliff's wife passed away from cancer several years ago. They have two plots together and he will be buried next to her. That leaves my mom out in the cold, so for old times sake, she and my dad decided to still be buried next to each other....they were divorced. Tell me that not just weird! Okay, so there aren't two plots next to Cliff and Shirley...but there are some over and down a bit. That's what mom picked for her and Dad. They were in the middle of digging when the funeral home called about Danny's death and asked them to halt burial. We saw were they had to fill in the hole! They offered us two together and one up and over, but my response to that was "What else do ya got?" Near the end of the 'garden' that Cliff will be buried in there were three plots together. Two were cremation plots and one full burial. Cremation plots are just small plots, typically on an end or curve where they want to use the land, but can't fit a casket. Did you know when someone is cremated, instead of remains, they have cremains? I thought that was a cool word, kinda creepy, but cool anyway. As we are looking at the plots I said, "Okay, we want my dad here on the end, the middle one for my mom and then Danny right here." The cemetery guy says "Well traditionally, the husband is in the middle and the wife is on the right, (or left, I don't remember!) and the child is on the other side." I laughed out loud. Ronda said "Well that's good, because then if mom decides not to be cremated she can have the full burial plot." So I pour out a big dose of family reality when I chime in with "First of all, we aren't a traditional family and if I know my mother, she's gonna want to be in the middle. I guarantee you she will still want to be cremated, she always has." Done deal, Dad, Mom, Danny.
Back at Mom's house we still have to get a picture for the paper and then pictures for the slide show. She was worked up when we go there and just handed us a picture that a friend had just given us of Danny. Ronda wanted to get his wedding picture off the wall but she wasn't having it. "Take this one!" We looked at, and each other and I had to say "MOM! He's loaded in this picture! His eyes are half closed!" To prevent her from throwing anything at me, we took the picture. Later someone found another one and we took it down and used it. Mom didn't even notice the switch! She just didn't want to deal with at that time.
(skip this part to avoid graphic details)
My sisters and I went to see my brother's on/off girlfriend, Devon. Because of Danny's drug use, he had abandoned his family in Colorado but was not divorced. He still talked to his wife and still loved her. Not everyone is a Devon fan because of the situation. Was she the best thing that ever happened to Danny, no. Did she ever give me a reason to dislike her, no. It's a difficult situation. I love and adore my sister in law Tracie, who hates Devon and it's totally understandable. It's really uncomfortable riding this fence. We get to Devon's friends house and she lets us in to see her. When we walk in, she is sitting on the couch hunched over, rocking and crying. She stands up and I hug her and we just start to cry together. I feel so much pain for her. I just lost my brother and it hurts, but knowing that she had to go through finding him dead seems like a terrible nightmare. I know she was very nervous about us coming over there. Even though she didn't say it, I knew she was afraid that we would blame her. She start to tell us the events that culminated in Danny's death. Late the night before he came to her apartment, pretty loaded, but this wasn't out of the norm, especially for the last week. She said she asked him what he had taken but he said he was tired. He always said that! He would nod off mid sentence, but always because he was 'tired.' Nothing she described seemed out of the norm, no red flags that she 'should have' done something different than what she did. Sometime in the wee hours he got up and went out the back door and started vomiting, happens sometimes when you are very stressed from losing a parent or from loading your body with poison and more poison. He dropped a pill on his way out or in, and Devon pocketed it so he wouldn't take it. Danny always refused to lie down when he was 'just tired.' My dad was similar but he explained it as not wanting to go 'sleep off' a good high, or low I guess. Danny didn't seem to have that reasoning, just something he always did. He would pass out sitting up, and Devon, Mom and some friends had realized that you just leave him sitting, just leaned back a bit. So when Danny started to 'nod,' Devon propped him up on the couch so he wouldn't fall. Around 3 or 3:30 she woke up and heard him making some ugly breathing noises but had no idea that this was the 'death rattle' that is frequently heard in these situations. I do not hold her responsible for anything and I have no animosity towards her. There was no way that she could have known what was happening. She woke around 7 and noticed a silence. She went into the living room and saw him, not breathing and with foam covering his mouth. She ran over and started to scream his name and shake him. He was cold and already had signs of lividity and rigor. Devon's 12 year old son witnessed everything. She called 911 and they arrived within 2 minutes. She started calling my mom and my mom wasn't answering. She didn't leave details on the answering machine but just kept saying "Peggy, You have to call me back, now!" Mom called her back and Devon said "Danny won't wake up, he won't wake up!" and my mom screamed "Call 911!" "I did." Devon told her, "they are already here." My mom jumped in the pickup and flew over there. When Devon saw my mom running up to the door she motioned to a police officer and he went to stop her. He said "Danny went to sleep last night and he didn't wake up." My mom turned around and bent her knees and screamed "OH F***!" When Devon described this to us, I pictured exactly the posture that my mom would have had. Devon was shaking and could hardly get through the story. She was stuttering and bawling. During this I was getting shaky and felt like I could fall down. I held on to Devon, not only to love on her, but at that moment it was also so that I had a grasp on something to keep me upright. She had given the pill she had found to the police.
(resume reading for those that skipped)
Devon was widowed several years ago. Her late husband died of a drug overdose. Just knowing that, you can imagine the terrible pain she is living and reliving. The difference is, this time, she was there and saw everything. My sisters and I loved on her and kept telling her that if she needed anything to please call one of us. Renda kept telling her, "We don't mean, just this week or next, we mean 6 months from now, or longer." Her best friend, with whom she was staying with started to cry. She said it was nothing like this when her husband died. The family treated her like garbage and overstepped her decisions and it was a horrible ordeal. After his death they wanted nothing to do with her. "She wasn't even married to Danny and you guys are being so nice to her" she said. Jesus, the love of Jesus, that's what it is. We all told he how sorry we were that she had to go through that. She started to cry and say 'I should have' and I stopped her. I turned her towards me and looked into her eyes and said "I just read this scripture for my dad's service and it's the same now. The Lord knew when we would die before we were ever born. Devon, this IS NOT YOUR FAULT! There is nothing you could have done." She hugged me and thanked us all.
Again at my mother's house, which was packed all day with family and friends, we had to go through and get pictures. It was less fun this time. Partially because with added events in the day, we didn't have as much time. Partially because it was my brother and not my dad, young and not old, and a sad repeat of the previous week. (I should note here that at 57, my dad was NOT old, but compared to 36, well you get the idea). After seeming dad's video, several friends brought us photographs which was wonderful! Danny's video was going to be longer! We discussed songs and several people told us that Danny wanted "Crossroads" played as his funeral. Ronda had several picked out for hers as well. I don't remember if Renda picked out any for herself or not. I said "I don't care, I'm dead" and my sisters both rolled their eyes! We talked with mom, who was doing much better at this time, about the plots we picked at the cemetery. Ronda starts to tell her.. "The guys said that traditionally the husband is in the middle and the wife..." and mom interjects... "BULL SHIT, I'm getting the middle!" a sideways glance at Renda and we can't contain our laughter!
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