Things feel a bit off to me and I think I know why. It is the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashanah, and I am missing my mom. I haven't slept well for the past few nights, and as such, I'm feeling pretty tired. I am also feeling rather reflective, thinking about things as I lay awake in bed during the wee hours, or as I drive and a certain song comes on the radio, or as I listen to any number of talk radio shows jabbering on about the election and our current state of the economy and wonder "what would my mom think about all of this?" She always shared her opinion about the "topic of the day" and I always enjoyed hearing what that opinion was.
I also am reflecting on what was going on in our family one year ago. Ethan was still getting used to Sasha, Sasha FINALLY stopped crying day and night, and concern started to infiltrate my thoughts about my mom's health...I wasn't yet at the point where I thought the end was coming, but I wasn't comfortable with how she looked and how she said she was feeling. My cousin Warren was getting married in Winnipeg in mid-October of last year, and I remember my mom saying to me "I'm going to take care of myself...I really want to make it to that wedding." I told her she would; about two days after that conversation she was in the hospital with a broken hip, and needless to say, she didn't make it to the wedding.
As you know, that was the beginning of the end. Hospital rooms, rehab centers, the couch at home...those were the places my mom spent the rest of her time, and as the days and weeks wore on, she became more and more withdrawn. I think back to that time now and wonder if she knew she was dying. I really don't know if I thought she was...and if I did know, I certainly wouldn't admit it to myself. Did she know - deep down - that the end was coming? I've asked a few of her close friends if she ever had that conversation with them, and they each said "no," at least not that conversation in the concrete sense.
Last October as I read through the manuscript of "Hands Off My Hope" I was touched - and alarmed - by a section in which my mom recommends things to do to get ready to die. She offered the reader advice of making a video for the children and/or grandchildren so they could always see and hear you. Or, create a list of items you want certain people in your family to have. Or write letters and cards for your loved ones so they have that after your death. I was touched that my mom thought of doing these things...or at least thought of advising others to do these things. Yet I was alarmed with the thought that maybe my mom was getting ready for her own death. That was scary to me. As I've said before, in the abstract, I knew she would one day die but because we never really talked about it, I couldn't think about it in the concrete.
But I wondered what, if any, of her suggestions she would do for us. I know a few years ago she kept bugging Stacey and me to come up with a list of things of hers we wanted. I told her the only thing of hers that I wanted was the South Beach condo...and that Stacey and I differ so much in taste there would be no way that we'd want the same thing. I never made the list and I'm sure Stacey didn't, either. And although we really haven't come close to cleaning out her things, I know there will be no fighting, arguing or positioning between us when we do get to that point.
So, imagine my surprise when one day this past June my dad handed me what looked like a journal. We had brought the kids over to his place since they hadn't been there since the last day of Shiva in January. They played with long-lost toys before we walked to the Green Mill for dinner. As they played, my dad gave me the journal and told me he had just found it in my mom's night-stand. He didn't know what it was; he opened to the first page and saw my name written across the top. There was another one for Stacey which he gave to her that same night. I have to say, I was pretty excited - but nervous and apprehensive too - to read the journal's contents. I thought that perhaps this would provide some insight into what I wanted to know: what was going through my mom's head during her final months.
It took me a couple for days to garner up the courage to actually sit down with the journal and read its contents. It wasn't from 2007 or even 2006...it was earlier than that and something she had started at a previous setback. It was so nice to read her words and hear her voice tell me what was going on in her mind at that time. It provided some insight...not quite what I was looking for...but something she wanted to share with me at a later point, and I'm glad she was able to do that.
So I guess I just need to be satisfied with the notion that whatever was going on in my mom's mind was something she kept to herself. Was she reflective? Did she know this was her last fight? Why didn't we talk about it until one week before she died when she had set up hospice care? I don't know. What I do know is that everyone has a way of doing everything, and this must have been my mom's way of protecting Stacey and me until the end. As I said, I need to be satisfied with that, but really, am I? Not sure.
By the way, L'Shanah Tovah.
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