Half of a Moon

I am no stranger to grief.  In reality none of us are.  Yesterday was hard and today was harder and tomorrow will be better.  I can not capture Poppy's very essence no matter how much I try - but try I will.  I honestly can not even remember what I wrote yesterday.  It became somewhat of a blur.

Poppy died last night. There I said it.  I was going to say went home, passed away, went to be with the Lord, and he did all of those things, but he died.  I really hate that word - but is is part of life.  Poppy kept telling us all week not to worry, that everybody dies, but the process pretty much stinks and for me it personally brought back a lot of memories that perhaps I have not dealt with in awhile.   I went in and gave Poppy a kiss around 1:30 a.m. I told him I loved him, he struggled  and told me he loved me back and I knew he meant it.  I laid in bed and cried and then dozed off holding Trey.  My mother was laying in bed rubbing Poppy's back and my brother Jim was in the chair checking on him every few minutes.  Around 2:45 a.m. Jim got up to get a drink of water and sat down out in the living room.  He said Poppy was looking at him and then he was looking at my mother.  My mother had dozed off as well and around 3:00 a.m. she woke up and called Jim back into the room - he was gone. Jim came in and got me and told me he was gone - it seems just that simple, but it is never simple.  We all sat in there for quite awhile saying goodbye, digesting the reality that was now ours.  He looked peaceful but he was gone and he felt gone and dear God please take care of him, because he is my daddy and I miss him already.  We called Hospice and let them know and then called the funeral home.  It was still dark when the funeral home arrived and they put him on the gurney and we came back in and kissed him goodbye.  I remember handing over my son Michael just a year in a half ago over to the funeral home and it was all too familiar.  After I handed Michael over (it was also in the middle of the night),  I remember looking out at the moon - it was a full moon and it was blue.  Last night it was a half moon and it was very clear, I could see every star.  Somehow when the funeral home people leave with your baby or your Poppy - it is just so final.  I know we will see him again, I get that he is in a better place, but I'm not, I am right here and for today that is just so very hard.

I do have to mention that when the funeral home came - they sent out 2 very well dressed men and they were incredibly gentle and polite.  I of course after we all prayed and cried looked at Poppy and said, "Poppy - this is just a shit sandwich." I stole his saying, but it is and yet I do feel blessed or fortunate that I had time with him to tell him how much I love him, to let him enjoy his new grandson and to let him tell us how much he loved us.  I tried to soak in every word and every pearl of proverbial wisdom he had to offer.

I went into Poppy's room tonight and laid down on his bed, looked in his closet and I just turned off his radio that he was listening to with headphones yesterday about 15 minutes ago.  So tonight I close with a saying from an Irish headstone that is so appropriate

- Death leaves a heartache no one can heal, love leaves a memory no one can steal.

It's 1:30 a.m. And we are all up...sitting with Poppy. He has had a long day. I have been in his room with him several times today and he is not talking much. This morning he said, "hi lovey, how are you?" he told me around lunch that his mother was in the room with him and he pointed to her in the corner of the room - I never met my grandmother she died when I was a few weeks old. I asked him how he was around 8:00 p.m. and he said he was "ok" I said Poppy, I know your not ok but I want to make sure your not terribly uncomfortable. He said, this is hard and I leaned over and kissed him and I told him that I loved him, he mustered up all his energy and said, "I will always love you baby." It kind of gets a little rough after that but he is struggling tonight and we are all up waiting...waiting...waiting...

Since I am struggling with my words tonight - I think a favorite memory of Poppy will do. There are so many, but perhaps when I got my tonsils out when I was 5. Poppy, was devastated that I was going through this and he brought me this Amelia Earhart doll. I woke up from surgery and he had tears in his eyes. I also remember bringing home a kitten or two (or three) and praying that he would let me keep them and well, he did. He created a monster lol now it's turtles and guinea pigs, dogs and horses lol. I married a man an awful lot like my poppy. Ok, a bit of rambling tonight. If you are reading and you have a favorite memory please share and if not please pray for him as he makes this difficult transition. I will write tomorrow with an update. Sweet dreams Poppy.

Doctor, Doctor give me the news...

So a little more about my brother - we have always been very close, and I may sound like I idolize him in some way and I probably do, but it is the very human part of him that reminds me of my father the most.  If I remember correctly my brother did his first year of his internship in internal medicine at the University of Nebraska in Omaha.  He was trying to decide if he wanted to do Internal medicine or oncology.  Towards the end of that year - he was taking care of a young man that had cancer and was dying.  I can not remember the kind, but that is really not relevant to this story - what is relevant is that this young man was the only child of this couple and he was around 18.  My brother had to go talk with his parents earlier in the day as this young man was slipping into a coma.  He talked with them about a Do Not Resuscitate Order and they were just devastated.  They reluctantly signed one for this child of theres and as a parent that stuck in my mind all of these years.  I don't know how they were able to make their hands work - God Bless them.  Anyways, later that day after Jim had gotten off work, this young mans condition was deteriorating quickly so he went up to see him and he was in there alone with him and he held his hand and prayed.  His breathing was shallow and Jim leaned over and whispered into his ear, "it is ok to die." This young man took one last breath and slipped away.  It was that moment that Jim knew his calling was oncology and that he was going to help people die sometimes.  This is the ultimate test right now, helping his father die.  You know, we always assume you will have another day, another Christmas, another birthday, another whatever and sometimes you are wrong...

Today was rough - I always write at night after I kiss  Poppy goodnight and put the baby to bed.  I kissed him goodnight tonight and he felt cold and it was an effort for him to say goodnight.  It is so hard to say goodnight, I am so afraid that it may be my last kiss goodnight.  Several times today he got confused.  He thought jets were flying overhead and he thought Jessica (my oldest daughter) was in the room with him.  His blood pressure was around 79/50 so it is a little worse today.  He did however manage to fixate on Trey for a little while today and in typical Trey fashion, he puked and Poppy still made a joke - he said, "oops, slip slop...bring the mop." Just something he has always said to us almost daily.  I just wish we had a little more time - things seem to be deteriorating so quickly...

Pocket full of Prayers

Today I had assumed the position - which simply means I was sitting on the recliner/rocker in Poppy's bedroom rocking/nursing the baby and talking with Poppy and he said, "man I am so envious of you."  I said what do you mean Poppy and he said, "you get to watch him grow up" Wow, those are some serious words - he is so right, I am so lucky and so sad Poppy won't be there for his first steps, his first pretty much everything.

Today my girls all went back home (about 6  hours away) each one of them went in and gave him a big hug and kiss, but my oldest Jessica - that was pretty much torture.  Poppy was almost like a father to her in so many ways.  I was 18 when I had Jessica,  young and still a kid myself.  I worked and went to school full time and Poppy would  often watch her while I worked or was in class.  He would take her to breakfast in her little car seat every Saturday morning. Take her to the movies and make her milk shakes every chance he got.  They have a special relationship that is just beyond grandfather/granddaughter plus they are a  lot alike.  He told her he thought he was dying and she asked him if he thought he would die today and he said' "maybe" she was crying when she left and it just broke my heart to see her go, but it broke his heart to see her cry.  Such a sweet man.    

When Poppy first got his diagnosis he said, "Don't worry about  me honey, I have a pocket full pills in one hand and a pocket full of prayers in the other...I should be covered." Man I really hope it is that simple.

What about the continents?

We have made it through another day - I have to be honest I was somewhat worried about today.  This morning Poppy was drastically different from the previous days.  I was very worried everyone went home and that he was dying today.  He told me he thought he was dying and I could not get a blood pressure reading with one of those automatic cuffs all day.  He said goodbye to a bunch of his friends today.  He told me he was seeing the "Dream People" and I asked who that is and he said that he doesn't know them yet, but they are young and he will know them soon.  I would like to think they are his angels, but it is more likely hydrocodone angels I would imagine...  He was in a cold sweat all day, but the most concerning new thing going on is a substantial new amount of swelling and his lungs sound wheezy now.  As the day progressed, he seemed to almost rally tonight while hospice was here.  They were able to get a blood pressure of 90/60 so still awful, but it has been worse.  Jim came back - after just going home yesterday he turned back around and got here just in time to help him to the restroom.  The worst tonight, was he didn't quite make it back into his bed, his feet just gave out from under him while getting back into bed.  He is ok, relatively speaking and resting now.

I do have to tell you a little more about the hospice visit - very nice woman - her name is Edith and she looks to be in her late 50's early 60's, very well kept sweet lady with a very strong Jamaican accent.  When she walked in and introduced herself - she asked Poppy how he was feeling and he told her that he was pretty sure he was dying.  She gently smiled at him and told him that we were all dying, that it was ok, we are just all at different stages.  Well put.  So she took a lot of information to get all of his meds into her computer and it was really a long visit, I think about 2 hours. she asked if he wanted help showering and he said no - we collectively vetoed that one.  Then she asked if he would like a massage therapist to visit and he said no.  Again, I vetoed that one as well.  I said Poppy, come on, it will make you feel good.  He paused and looked at Edith and said, "ok, if I can have a little hoochy coochy too" She laughed and in her sweet Jamaican accent she said, "no hoochy coochy." then she asked him if he had pain and on a level of 1 - 10 what was it and he said sometimes a 10 so she explained to him, that he was not to wait for his pain to get that bad.  Then she asked if he had problems walking and he said no (I also objected to that answer as well). Then she asked, "what about incontinence?" Without skipping a beat he said, well, there's Australia, Africa, Asia...  very witty.  He's still got it...  : )

Playin the odds...

Ok, before I get too far, I need to explain why this is funny to me.  My Aunt is here with us right now.  She is my mothers little sister and she is also a nun.  She is in her mid 50's I think and my father always calls her nun and it makes us laugh.  He has been telling her lately that she is "a good nun".  Cracks her up too - I remember when she became a nun, he wore her habit around and made fun of her, but always in good fun.  Well yesterday (Sunday)Poppy was unable to get to church, so my mom and aunt brought church to him.  I will get into Poppy's beliefs at a later time, but suffice it to say, my mother is absolutely much more "Catholic" than my father, but he is always happy to accommodate my mother because he simply loves her.  So after church we are all in his room gathered around his bed and my aunt says a quick prayer or two before communion and everyone then gets communion and everyone leaves the room. Everyone except for myself and my oldest daughter.  My oldest daughter and Poppy are very close and she understands he very crass sense of humor.  So anyways, Poppy is laying in bed and I am across the room rocking the baby and Jessica (my oldest daughter) is laying in bed next to Poppy and we begin talking about religion and he tells Jessica that my mother of course "loves church" and that he is not all that "into organized religion".  Then he does his best W.C. Fields impersonation and referring to the communion he just ingested he smiles and says - "playin the odds, just playin the odds" I know, I know, it may be awful, but it is Poppy and it was pretty funny.

Hospice is coming...Hospice is coming...

As I sit here at tonight watching my children all sleeping together in one bed I am feeling incredibly grateful, grateful and sad (of course), sad my little ones won't get to know Poppy as I know him.

It is hard to watch someone you love go through the obvious physical discomfort but the other issues - the emotional reality of knowing your days are numbered are just weird and almost tormenting.  I want to freeze time and yet, I do not want him to suffer.  It sounds obvious doesn't it? Not so obvious.  My brain and my heart are in a constant battle.  Today Poppy decided he did not want to go back to the doctor.  This decision I completely support, but understand this decision was partly made because he really can not physically get into a car and make it into a doctors office.  I hate that part.  The fact that he has made this decision is the part I can stomach (somewhat). 

Soooo, after that decision came the really hard part...... hospice.  Hospice is so amazing and I love it but I love it for other families - you know? not my family.  My brother asked him if that is what he wanted and with a little clarification - it is what he wants.  My brother is an amazing man.  He knows what is needed and as painful as it is for him, he managed to get out that hard word out (hospice) without throwing up.  I know he is a doctor, he happens to be an oncologist no less, but this is his father.  This is the man that taught him how to ride a bike, told him about the birds and the bees.  This is his daddy.  This passage will somehow change our roles.  When both your mother and father are alive - you remain somewhat a child.  Once you lose a parent - somehow it feels like you lose a part of your childhood.  I can feel that coming.  

Well in typical Poppy fashion after everyone left - he waived his finger up in the air back in forth as if to music and sang Hospice is coming...Hospice is coming as if to the rescue.  A tad sarcastic, but still funny.  

One of the questions that comes up several times a day, is how much time does he have? Well - that is tough.  I know not long, but that does not mean he doesn't have a few months.  Today he ate a little, but we can hear more wheezing in his chest and he insists it is from his pneumonia vaccine, but I am thinking perhaps he has some fluid in his lungs from all the other yuck happening.    So days, weeks, months... really I hate not knowing and I would hate to know.  

Get a load of this...

Well here I am again - blogging.  Sometimes, when something happens in your life - you think to yourself, man I should write a book.  As if this has never happened to someone else.  I have been a single teenage mom, divorced, remarried, graduated from law school (as a single mom) dealt with infertility, dealt with addiction, lost a baby, and now I am an "advanced maternal age" mom - so all of these things I swear I could have written a book about but only because they all are things that have shaped me into who I am today....and,  Today I am embarking n a new chapter, I am losing my father to cancer and I have just finished my first week sitting by his side and it is hard.  He was diagnosed about 10 days ago with stage four colon, liver and lymphatic cancer - it is most likely also in his lungs.  We did not know about it until just now.  He was working full time up until about 10 days ago.  So I write, I am not sure where I am going because maybe this is about me, but maybe it is a bit about him, and maybe about my brother and certainly a bit about my mother.  It is a complicated  relationship and certainly a complicated journey and honestly I am NOT a writer, but as long as my mother in law doesn't read this I should be ok.  That is a little joke - she is a tad critical in the writing department.

This is my Poppy - he is my daddy and I am definitely his little girl.  This was taken about 2 months ago right after my youngest (and last - for those of you wondering) was born.  He is such an amazing grandfather.  He loves all of his grand babies so very much.  They just all have such a special place in his heart.

I will get to the title another day, but it is pretty funny.  Keep in mind I have a big Catholic family and I tell you this only because, well it will come into play.  Let me tell you a bit about Poppy - he is a big teddy bear.  He is about 6"5" - although he jokes he has lost a few inches over the years because of back surgeries.  He is absolutely known for his bad jokes and for...ahem... a special gift he has.  This gift is a very close relative of "pull my finger" which by the way is still going on even on his death bed this week.  A quick story to perhaps represent this gift.  When I was in high school, my boyfriend came to pick me and another friend of mine up to take us out one night and he brought one of our friends with him.  I was upstairs getting ready and the two guys were sitting downstairs at out little bar area talking with my father.  As I was descending into the bar area - I hear laughter and "Oh my God" and I look over at my sweet father as he is igniting his "gas" oh yes, he was.  I was in high school - I STILL hear about that even 20 something years later.  He was kind of famous for it and it was NOT a one time event.  He was still doing it when I was in law school.  I have to admit on some levels even I was impressed (when I was not mortified).  I just love him and now what I would give to have some of those days back.  I know that may be a strange way to introduce poppy and or open a blog, but that is poppy.  He was big and strong and really ALWAYS telling a joke.  I can not tell you how many times a day Poppy would call, JUST to tell me a joke and then he would hang up and call my brother and tell him the same joke or vice versa.  When Poppy got sick, he was not able to return to work and his request was that we go get his joke file out of his desk - so I did and let me just say it is a really big file.  This is a compilation of silly jokes he has been collecting since the late 70's.  Laughter is so important and I assure you he is still joking around.  He is feeling pretty yucky tonight, but somehow he manages to still muster a funny or two.  God, I am really going to miss that.