Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Putting Mama on Hospice

It's mama's time to die. It's not because of the terrible medical care she's received. It's just that she cannot rally back one more time. I met with the hospice people today. I explained that they didn't need to "sell" me on the concept of hospice. Before I contacted them, I had done everything possible to see if mama could survive--with a quality of life that was worth living--and she can't.

It's time to let her go so she can join my father who's been waiting for her in heaven for 18 years and 8 months. Their marriage was a match made in heaven, and that's where she'll join him--for eternity.

For the rest of this week--in tribute to my mother, Marjorie L. Schwartz--I will share some of her poems with you and an essay and a few poems I've written to her. This afternoon, I wrote the short poem below while I sat on a bench on the bluffs overlooking the beach, near Casa del Mar, where my mother lives. Writing it made me cry because I knew my mother would get a kick out of it.

To Mama
Oh mama, I love you so!
I'm so sorry to see you go.
I know it's time to say goodbye
but I'll love you dearly until I die.

7 comments:

Syd said...

Dear Susan,

I will continue to email you privately, but I wanted to acknowledge here publicly that my thoughts and prayers are with you during this difficult time.

I know that writing is therapeutic for you, so I want to encourage you to continue to share your story and your thoughts and feelings here. There are many of us who are reading your posts, feeling your pain, and learning important lessons about love, faith, support, strength and grace through your efforts to give your mother the best care possible and then having the courage to let her go.

To other readers, I know that it's often extremely difficult to know what to say to someone who's going through this type of grief, but I would encourage each of you to at least leave Susan a brief comment to let her know that wherever you are, you're thinking about her and her family as you read her blog.

Bipolar Wellness Writer said...

Dear Sydney,
As always, you know just the right thing to say to make me feel loved and supported.

For everyone else, when my friendship with Sydney began to blossom, she sent me the most beautiful prayer shawl, which she knit herself. It's one of the most meaningful gifts I've ever received.

Today, as I sit with my mother, I'll be wearing my shawl. If you think about it, being draped in a shawl that has been knit with love feels like someone who loves you is hugging you all day.

What a gift! What a friend!

Love,
Susan

JayPeeFreely said...

I know this is a very difficult period for you. And I hope you will do as syd suggests, and keep up contact via the blog and email as you need to.

I think the thing is: you made a decision you really didn't want to make. But you made the right one - for her, and yourself. I can't imagine how difficult that is.

You are wonderful and caring daughter. That shows everytime you write. And that is why you need to write as much for your mother as you do yourself.

My prayers are with you.

Cami Black said...

Susan..I just bawled when I read your blog today. How truly blessed I've been the day you became my cousin by marrying Bernie. And how lucky I was to spend the time with your mom one on one when we went to lunch thru the years. I loved being around your mom. Her love of life, her shoes!! This is all I can write for now. You know we're here if you need any little thing.
Love you. Cami & Dave

Bipolar Wellness Writer said...

Thanks Jason and Cami! After a very difficult day it felt good to come home and read such sweet and thoughtful comments!

marja said...

Dear Susan,

I'm so very sorry you're going through this difficult time. I too hope you will keep blogging...to heal. Keep writing, girl. And keep that harmonica handy.

Please know that I'm praying for you and your mom. May you find peace in the days ahead of you.

Love, marja

Bipolar Wellness Writer said...

Thank you Marja. I so appreciate your kindness!

Love,
Susan