April 19, 2004

On April 19, 2004 I drove from St. Peters, MO to Mercy Hospital in Oklahoma City. April 19 is a day that will always be remembered in the state of Oklahoma. It will always be remembered by me as well but for a different reason.

When I walked in that hospital I wasn't sure what I would see. I just knew my life would never be the same. I was right. I remember going up in the elevator and saying a silent prayer. I was praying she didn't look as bad as I thought she would. I was praying for a miracle. Hoping when I walked in that room she would wake up and recognize me. I wanted to walk in that room and things to be the way they were. I wanted my mommy to be sitting up and talking in those silly voices she always talked in. I wanted her to tell me not to cry, and that she had this disease beat.

However, none of those things happened. Instead when I walked in the room I saw the shell of a woman who used to take on the world. She looked so little. Her face looked so sunken in and because of the cancer taking over her liver her skin was yellow also. A few days before her last chemo she had chosen to have her hair buzzed off, so that was missing also. She knew nothing going on around her. She occasionally mumbled about playing cards and things from her childhood. She was almost child like.

My dad was there, and he knew the end was close. I can't remember if my sister was there, but I know she had been there every minute she could be. My mom was the world to all three of us. She really was such a special amazing person. She touched the lives of many.

My dad eventually left. I remember watching Oprah and trying to talk to my mom. I remember telling her how much I loved her, and even if here on earth or up in heaven she would always be my mommy. I remember telling her it was O.K. to let go. I told her she had fought for such a long time, and if she was tired it was O.K. to go. Heather and I would take care of dad and Speck. We would even get along (LOL). I prayed with her for a while and around 5:30 I went downstairs to get something to eat.

When I came upstairs she was cussing in Italian and complaining about her legs hurting. She was crying, and even screaming they hurt so bad. I had to make a descion. See, my mother never wanted to take meds, but watching her in pain like that I made a choice it took a long time for me to forgive. I asked them to administer pain meds. They gave her morphine.

I rubbed her legs and listen to her talk. She was talking to Grandma Josie (who is in heaven), and for the first time since I had gotten there she was making some sense. She kept saying "I'm coming Josie". I kept telling her how much I loved her, and continued to pray for her.

The pain must have returned because the screaming came back. I spoke to the doctor and at that point we decided her comfort is what mattered. They administered more medicine in hopes of keeping her comfortable. I just wanted the screaming to stop. I wanted my mom to be pain free. She had fought long enough. It was time to accept God's will whatever that might be.

For the next few hours I just held her hand, she had the softest skin. I wanted to remember everything about her. I rubbed her cheecks and felt her soft baby fine hair. Her lips were so dry, and she would have hated that her lipstick was missing (LOL), but I remember just kissing her over and over.

Around 9:00 I caught myself falling asleep. I knew I was tired, but I also knew this might be the last few hours I ever had with my mommy. See, even though she wasn't "there" she was there. I could talk to her and say things to her I always wanted her to know. I dozed off (and regretted that for a long time too) and awoke around 11:00. I was still holding her hand. I remember again telling her it was O.K. to go. I told her that we all loved her so much. Again trying to re assure her that daddy and speck would be taken care of.

A little after midnight I noticed her breathing had changed a bit. I wasn't sure what was happening but I began to pray. I prayed so hard and was so torn. Of course I wanted my mommy to stay alive, but I wanted her to be my mommy. Not this shell of her that laid in this hospital bed. I wanted the mommy who promised to take my daughter to Disney, and was still wanting to Las Vegas one last time. I wanted the mommy back who had taught me to be a mommy. I didn't want the mommy here who was in so much pain she couldn't even function. So I prayed and prayed some more. I asked for God's will, and left it all in his hands.

I saw my mommy take her last breathe. She just stopped breathing. It was that simple. There were no bells, sirens, or anyone shouting "Code Blue". I went out in the hall and through tears told the nurse I believed my mom had just passed away. The nurse came in and couldn't get a pulse. She stuck a mirror under her nose to check for any type of breathe. There was none. She went in the hall and brought in another nurse. They called it. My mommy had died.

I called my dad first. He said he would get there as soon as he could. I called my sister and we both just cried. She of course would drive dad there and would get there as soon as they could. After that I just sat with my mom. She looked at peace. I hoped and prayed she knew what an amazing person she was to me and so many others. I prayed she knew how sorry I was for all the times I was mean to her or said mean things to her. I was so sorry for all the things I never said, and all the time I spent away from her.

I didn't see it then, but I see it now. My mother on that day gave me an amazing gift. She ALLOWED me to be there with her when she passed. I was able to hold her hand, pray with her, and tell her it was O.K. to go on. I was able to see the full circle of life that day. She watched me take my first breath and I saw her take her last. I am so thankful and grateful for that.

 On April 20, 2004 the world lost a great person. Some called her Mary, Marybeth, and even MaryB. I called her mommy and to me that is what she will always be.