Mom's Birthday

I would rather be ashes than dust! I would rather that my spark should burn out in a brilliant blaze than it should be stifled by dry-rot. I would rather be a superb meteor, every atom of me in magnificent glow, than a sleepy and permanent planet. The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.

~Jack London

Last year, going through my mom's things, I found a print that had hung on her wall for as long as I could remember. It was this quote, matted and framed. It reminds me of how she lived her life.

I still miss her every single day.

I had planned to post this on June 15, the anniversary of losing my mom. But somehow, it seems more a quote that celebrates her life, not mourns her death, so I'll post it on this, which would have been her 67th birthday.

Final Post

Picture collage put together by my uncle Forrest, for mom's funeral.
I've been thinking a bit about what to do with this blog...with mom's words, her stories, her hopes and fears. I'm the co-author of this blog, in that I helped her set it up way back when, and I've been able to maintain it during these last horrible months, during her decline.

I've decided to let it go. It makes no sense for me to post here, as this is the place for HER voice, HER stories, not mine. But I'll leave it up, as long as makes any sense whatsoever, because her stories are wonderful, her thoughts are wonderful, and if there's a chance someone new might come along and enjoy some of these posts, I know she would want that.

Because she truly LOVED this blog. Loved it with a passion. When my Uncle Forrest was trying to motivate her to get up and get better, he used this blog as a carrot. She saw that, and she agreed...this was the carrot that would work. Because her friends are here. Some of her dear friends from Juneau came here. Her friends from OO came here. And friends from blogging came here. So she loved it. You cannot know how much your love and support have meant to her, and to me and Richard, during this sad, difficult time. It has meant everything.

The more I process all of this, the more I think, that it wasn't so much a matter of depression and lack of motivation, but a matter of her truly not being able to get up and move, that got her. What I mean by that is that the combination of the furnace leak in her apartment several years ago, that did a REAL number on her lungs, was a huge contributer. Her lungs looked like those of someone who smoked, not those of someone who had quit in the mid 70s. The injuries she has sustained over the years, which made exercise so difficult, added to her heart and lung problems. Her weight, which contributed to her diabetes and apnea, added to her problems. Her depression, which sucked the motivation from her, added to her problems. All of these together, I think, were too much. She rolled snake eyes, and couldn't get past it.

I've been playing the 'if only' game a lot. If only we hadn't put her in the extended care facility, would she maybe have been less depressed, and so, able to rally and get better? If only I hadn't pushed her so hard, tried to get her up and moving, would she have at least felt more understood and loved before she died? And truthfully, these are 'what ifs' with no answer. How can I know, if things might have turned out better, had things been different? I can't. Perhaps if we hadn't put her in the extended care, she would just have deteriorated even faster, in Kate's house. If I hadn't tried to push her, would I now be kicking myself for not trying? My only wish at this point is to have her back, to have none of this have happened, to go back to life as it WAS. But I can't have that. And it hurts. I don't know how a person is supposed to live without their mother there to care for them. Even in her last hours, she was more worried about MY worry, than about herself. She wanted to get up and do physical therapy, to make me happy. She wanted to make me smile, giving me rides up and down on her hospital bed. But what she really, truly wanted, was to be healthy again, out of pain, and out of that facility. Well, she is now. But I'm heartbroken, and I hope that if my atheist leanings are wrong, that she's at peace somehow, and can give me some comfort at some point.

This is a crappy last post for a blog, written through the tears of a heartbroken daughter who has lost her mother. You, her bloggy and online friends, who have loved her and been her friends, deserve something more uplifting. I'm sorry that I don't have something better to give. But again, thank you, for all of your friendship and support, and please know, you have meant to the world to my mom, and you have been a great comfort to me.

Updated on Monday, 6/23, to add that I'm doing a bit better today, and that there's a post on that here. I won't clutter up Mom's blog with my own recovery efforts. That's what my own blog is for. But I just wanted you all to know that I'm not doing so much of the what-ifs any more, that I'm going to print up this blog and save it for Maya, and that even though I still miss my mom horribly, for right now, I'm doing a bit better.

Mom's Obituary

Joycelyn Ward
April 23, 1942 – June 15, 2008

We mourn the loss of Lilith Joycelyn Ward. She leaves behind her daughter, Julie, her son, Richard, her brother, Forrest, her sister Lori, her mother, Virginia, her Aunt Florence, and her many nieces and nephews, and their children. And of course, she was Maya’s Granny.

Joycelyn was born in Oakland, CA, and moved a great deal in her lifetime. She lived in California for much of her life, most recently in Sacramento and Citrus Heights, but also spent many years in Stockton and Berkeley. She lived in Juneau, Alaska from 1993 until February of this year.

She devoted much of her life to helping children, from her early days as a Montessori teacher, to her days teaching parenting classes and working one-on-one to help parents who were at risk of losing their children. She also worked as a volunteer coordinator, as a research analyst, as a secretary, and at an organization working to prevent teen alcoholism.

She was a voracious reader, loved to write and tell stories, and found great joy and satisfaction in her blog, Maya's Granny.

Her wisdom and wicked humor will be greatly missed.

Donations can be made in her memory to her favorite charity, Heifer International.

(This obit ran today in the Stockton Record, sans picture. A slightly shorter version ran in the Sacramento Bee, and Richard ran one in the Juneau Empire as well.)

I had a dream

Art by my brother, Richard Ward.

I had a dream the other night. We decided to take my mom off of all of her meds, not just her antidepressants, and she got out of bed and was walking, walking like I haven't seen her walk in about 25 years. Fast and with a spring in her step. She looked much younger, too...perhaps about 40 years old. She had her hair in two long red braids, and was wearing a tie-dye dress and looked so happy. Carefree and healthy and in her prime.

Then I woke up, and for the briefest second, I was truly happy for her. Then it hit me, that no matter if she were to recover, it would never be that sweet full recovery, that fountain of youth. And worse, I knew, in the pit of my stomach, that she would never recover. That this battle was too much for her, and the motivation too difficult to muster. And I almost cried from despair.

And now, it looks as though I was right. My much loved mother suffered a heart attack at around 2am this morning, and she passed away.

How I wish that cold, cruel truth were the dream, and my dream, reality.

(p.s., Ted posted a sweet story on his blog today, a glimpse of what we have lost.)

So.

How are things going with Maya's Granny and her eternal recovery? Not well.

She has stopped eating again, and the antidepressant they put her on that was supposed to increase her appetite reacted very similarly to the Paxil and Prozac, though it's in a different family of antidepressants, so it's probably not the same problem, but a new one instead. They took her off of this new antidepressant yesterday, though they're maintaining the Wellbutrin, as that did seem to be helping somewhat.

She isn't doing as much physical therapy as she needs to do to get better. That worries me. A lot.

She hasn't picked up a book or shown any interest in reading anything since February. That worries me even more.

Part of me wants to follow the advice of those who say to take her off of the antidepressants entirely. They don't seem to be helping, and she's not making progress, so what's the point. On the other hand, they take awhile sometimes to work, and she wasn't making progress without them, either. She wasn't getting up and moving, wasn't eating, was already in the beginnings of a decline. So second guessing myself is probably not productive.

I can say wholeheartedly that mom's friend Kate is a godsend. I've never known such a devoted, giving friend. Mom was sick, and planning to move in with my Grandma and Aunt Flo, but wasn't really strong enough to go to them at the time of her discharge, so Kate offered to have her come and stay with her. Mom was there for a week and a half, and then wound up back in the hospital, then the care facility. Kate has been going to visit practically every day, which takes at least 2 hours out of her day. Brings her food to try to tempt her appetite. Talks to doctors and nurses. Goes with her to apppointments. Tries to be encouraging and hopeful, and that's probably the thing she needs the most. I don't know how many friends would be this generous with their time and energy, and hopefully, most of us will not have our friendships tested to this degree. The emotional side of watching mom get worse like this is not at all what Kate signed up for. I swear, if I win the lottery, I'm buying Kate a car. With air conditioning.

So that's the news at this point, at least as much as I feel comfortable telling on a blog that is not my own. I hope that my mom can get up and moving soon, and can regain her perspective on life, because right now, it's a pretty hard time.

Letters and Cards

Maya's Granny asked me to thank you all for the lovely cards, letters, and postcards that you've sent. It makes her happy to know that her friends care and are thinking of her, and she has been enjoying reading them over and over again.

If her back didn't hurt so much when she sits upright, she would write you back. But for now, at least know that she's grateful, and that she is enjoying them. :)

~J

Cautiously Optimistic

That's where we're at at this point. Maya's Granny is feeling more herself, and is starting to want some control over her own life, which is a big step in the right direction. The healthy MG HATES the idea of being out of control like that, and wants to be reasonably able to determine what is going to happen, and when. So, she knows that she isn't going to get any better if she doesn't eat. So she's asking for what she wants, and is able to get some of it down. I'm not sure if she is enjoying it, but at least she's eating. She wants to get up and walk, but the spasm in her back and leg (sciatica, we think) is getting in her way. A few days ago, that was a reason not to try. Now, it's an obstacle which she wants to overcome.

So...I'm not sure if she's physically healthier or not, but mentally she's coming along. She's motivated again, and wanting to get better. She's taking advantage of the resources that they have at the assisted living facility. All of which is good.

I've thought the struggle was over before, thought the worst was behind us before, only to have a relapse. So I'm cautiously optimistic. Hoping things will be better now. Feeling like they have to be.

Where's Granny?

Right now, she's in an extended care facility. Trying to get her meds worked out (she's off the Prozac, and feeling much better in that way), so that hopefully, soon her depression will no longer affect her appetite and keep her from doing physical therapy. She's feeling better, and on the road to being better. I think it's still a long slog, though. Not a quick answer, not a quick recovery.

Anyway, a few folks have asked how they can get in touch with mom. There's no email address for her at this place, but you could send cards to:

Lilith Ward
c/o SunBridge Brittany Care Center
3900 Garfield Ave
Carmichael, CA 95608

I'm not sure how long she'll be there, and I'm unwilling to put her long term mailing address up on the internet. So don't send anything valuable, as it could get stolen, or it could miss her completely, and I don't know how good the folks will be about notifying her of gifts received. But a card, a postcard of somewhere pretty, a picture? I think she would love that.

Thanks everyone for your support, again and always.

Setback

This setback finds Maya's Granny back in another assisted living facility, as of yesterday. She's not strong enough to take care of herself, and needs to be eating and able to do more before she can be out of professional care. Sigh. The doctors seem to think her major problem is depression, a diagnosis that I don't disagree with.

So now they're going to get her evaluated for that, and figure out what medication they might be able to use that will help her, and won't have the problems that both Paxil and Prozac have caused. She'll have more physical therapy, as well as occupational therapy. Sigh. Not sure when she'll be back to her blog, but it may be awhile.

Still Alive

Very tired. Moving slowly. Seeing a doctor on Wednesday because I can't eat.

Thanks for dropping by. Love you all.

Update

I haven't forgotten you. My hand is still stiff, I spen Wednesday and Thursday takng care of business and in the car. I'm resting but zonked.

Kate & I are having a good time.

Hi!

Here I am, safely in Sacramento.

Tired. Having trouble with my left hand. But here. At Kate's house. With one of my best friends in all the world. With Meyer lemon trees and a wisteria arbor. With wind chimes. Loved and cared for.

And needing to say thank you to all of you. For hanging in and waiting for me. For good wishes.

And for the incredible generosity that helped my kids pay for this move. There are no words that express my gratitude enough.

So these few will have to do. Thank you! There is no treasure greater than freinds. And I am a rich woman.