Saturday, January 17, 2009

On Death, Intimacy, and the Seemingly Mundane

My wife, Susanna, gave me a book the other day written by Henri Nouwen titled In Memoriam. It is a journal he wrote in an attempt to process what he went through when he lost his mother. I have found encouragement in the book not because of any profound revelations, but rather because I find my personal experience validated in Nouwen's words.

It is surreal to be with my mother on a daily basis as her life seems to be coming to an end. Strangely, I have discovered a deeper sense of intimacy with God, my mother, my family, and friends throughout this journey. Tonight, as she suffered through pain and a little fear we were able to pray, read Psalms, and sing together. Her participation was silent, but it was intimate.

If you think about it, this experience is extremely common. Each of us will one day lose our mother, if we have not lost her already. But the experience is so unique to each of us. The fact that it is common does not lessen the profoundness of the journey. It offers an opportunity to experience intimacy in a way that would otherwise escape us in the daily travails of life.

Interestingly, the process in real time seems a little insignificant at the surface. One section of Nouwen's book resonated well with me. He writes that

"it is difficult to put into words what I want to say. Such words as "love" and "care" can so easily be interpreted in an emotional way, and yet none of us standing around my mother's bed were ever very good at expressing our feelings toward one another. In fact, during these long hours of waiting, none of us said anything very new. The words were the same as always. Yet, as we watched her life slowly fade away, we all sensed that the bond between us which she had created was growing stronger and deeper. . . Old boundaries that had maintained certain distances between us were being lifted so that new intimacies could grow."

Here is to loving deeper in 2009. Love does not come without pain, but in pain we find life.

Steve

Resting Well

Corrine had a good nights sleep, which means we did too... and she is resting well today. Her breathing pattern is inconsistent and at times there are up to about 25 seconds between breaths. The nurses inform us that she may go as long as 40 seconds.

We are enjoying the warmth of the day. The snow is nearly melted, and we have had the doors open to get some fresh air. I am headed to the airport to pick up my husband, Rod, who is visiting for the weekend.

Thank you to everyone who has expressed concern for me. I can assure you that, yes, I do see the hand of God and know He is a good, loving God who only wants the best fo us... but it doesn't keep me from asking questions or expressing insecurities... in fact, sometimes asking the hard questions is all I really need to do. I don't need "answers."

It seems that often our attempts to "answer" all of our very human questions takes away from the majesty of God, instead of adding to it. It is the unknown that makes the mystery of God so great and His story so intriguing.

-Angela

Friday, January 16, 2009

Pointless?

Corrine is weaker today. She hears what is going on around her, but is unable to participate. For her safety we put up the rails of her bed. In addition to keeping her from falling, the rails help her to turn over and re-adjust her position. For the first time, Corrine did not completely wake up for her bath, although she did participate in small ways like turning from side to side. She is more easily agitated and I have not been witness to her smile or laughter.

Today Corrines suffering feels pointless to me. It seems she is past being able to experience joy in this life. She is very confused and unable to reconcile what is going on around her verses what is happening inside her head. Corrine doesn't understand why she's still here, and neither do I.

I have felt God's comfort and strength, yet I question. What is to be gained by her pain? Is there some lesson we have failed to grasp? Who is responsible for her continued suffering? I know this is a fallen world... but it hurts so bad to be helpless, to be unable to 'do' anything for her. For my heartfelt prayers for Corrine to begin her life in heaven to be answered, "In MY perfect timing, not yours."

Last night, around 3am, Corrine begged me not to leave her. She pleaded "Help me!" with tears in her eyes.

"I'm doing everything I can" I told her as I gave her another does of medicine.

She repeated "Help me! It hurts."

So I held her hand and stroked her forehead. And I sat. And Prayed. Because there was nothing else I could do.

Now, I cry, and talk honestly with God. "What's the point?" I ask and hope someday, in my heart, I'll know the answer.

-Angela

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Little by Little

I returned to Denver tonight to be with my mother after several days at home in California. My mother has changed in the last several days. Physically she is much the same. Mentally things have deteriorated. She seems at peace but her thoughts are not coherent. Her biggest concern for the evening was to make sure we were prepared for Christmas dinner. Do we have potatoes? Who is coming? What day is it?

Mom still recognizes those of us around her on a daily basis. She is still beautiful, albeit weak. It is hard to see her go. She will be missed.

Please pray for her that she remains at peace and not in pain. Also pray for those of us caring for her that we might have patience, stamina, and wisdom.

Goodnight.

Steve

Corrine's Concerns

Corrine has not had much pain to speak of, but is becoming a little more agitated. In addition to calm words of assurance, Corrine is needing a little bit of medicine to reduce her anxiety. The nurses assure us it is normal... It is a journey to the end, and people often fret over the preparations. Also, dehydration can cause hallucinations, and she is taking in less liquid each day.

Last night Corrine woke up with a start. " I need more cash, I don't think I have enough! In the morning we have to go to the bank. I need more cash!"

Jesus already paid the price for us to go to heaven, so maybe Corrine just wants to tip the chariot driver?

-Angela

Wednesday, January 14, 2009

A little confused

Corrine is waking up a little more confused these days. Last night she asked me if I would go to Madagascar with her. Another time she asked if I would drive. Corrines's in a hurry to get where ever she's going and she's concerned about being late. She tries her best to get up so she can 'get ready.' We assure Corrine she has nothing left to do here but rest... that soon she'll be in heaven. Once convinced, she lays back to sleep once again.

Corrine's vitals are ditto what they've been, but it is clear her condition is changing. When she does awaken, she is not talkative and much of what she says doesn't make sense to us. Much to our surprise, Corrine is still taking her oral medication and we have established a regular interval for her anti-nausea medication. She is drinking very little.

Corrines favorite part of the day was when her grandsons came to visit. She clearly acknowledged them and beckoned them into the room, speaking loud and clear "ring, ring, ring, I want my boys." She also enjoyed a bed bath complete with a good hair scrub.

As for me, what a difference a day makes. After a long nap this afternoon and a good book to read, I am much more calm and confident. I am not on the verge of an angry outburst, and I feel much more comfortable in my skin, I am acceptable just the way I am. Thankfully, God has given me a moment of peace, again.

-Angela

Tuesday, January 13, 2009

No Change

I'm usually one who enjoys change... always wanting a new challenge, to go on a new adventure. But right now, I'm relieved there are no changes to report. Although nausea is becoming a more constant issue, Corrine was still able to take her pain pill... and I am just about to go relieve Don of care duty so that at least one of us can have a good nights sleep.

I am feeling defeated... it is draining to be constantly on gaurd, trying to protect and care for some one so vulnerable. I just want to do the right thing, but perfection isn't possible... it's hard to let go and believe that God is in control.

Tonight's prayer is an echo hundreds of years old "I Believe! Help my unbelief!"

-Angela

Dancing in Heaven

Corrine is ready to put on her dancing shoes in heaven. When paster Bill from Arvada Covanent came, She did a little jig in bed to practice, and suggests we do the same. We were laughing about 'the proper way to clap.' After demonstrating the wrong way for a lady to clap... hands cupped to produce a loud pop... and the correct way... one hand stays still while the fingers of the other hand hit you palm...Corrine piped in "We're a little judgemental, aren't we... these things don't matter." And we continue to laugh.

It feels good to laugh with Corrine. To know, even towards the end, Corrine has not changed from the woman she has always been. The woman, we were reminded today, who was social director of her career class when she was in her 20's. The mother who hosted birthday parties and played in sand boxes. The friend who invited everyone to BBQ's and decorated the church. Corrine is the same woman and she's preparing for the biggest celebration she's ever attended.

Corrine's time is getting closer. She asks for water, but goes to sleep before drinking. When Corrine does drink, nearly as much drips down her neck as goes down her throat. We are now prepared to use an all liquid medication regimend so she won't have to swallow.

Corrine needs a lot of help to reposition her body and is less able to communicate clearly what will make her comfortable. We just do the best we can to read her body language and resort to positions that have been good for her in the past. Termperature regulation is a bit tricky, rotating between kick the covers off hot, and fetal position, grabbing for blankets, cold.

We will continue to do our best and join Paster Bill in his prayer of thanks for Gods perfect timing.

-Angela

Monday, January 12, 2009

Patience

When I was young Steve and I participated in a play at our church. It was called "The Music Machine" and featured an eccentric conductor, animals who could talk, and children's' songs with life lessons. I believe it was baritone turtle named Herbert who slowly sang the song about patience...

"Have patience. Have patience. Don't be in such a hurry.
When you get impatient, you only start to worry.
Remember. Remember, that God is patient too
and think of all the times when others have to wait on
you."
It's funny that this is the song that keeps coming to my head... but it is so true for me, my impatience leads me to worry. It's easy to worry about all of the little details: How much medicine? When is everyone coming and going? Will I stay healthy? What should I write? When will Corrine's time with us be finished?
Worrying is a vicious circle. It is counter-productive and tiring. It's the opposite of acceptance and trust. Being impatient is one of the character traits Corrine and I share. So, I sang her the song tonight after giving her evening medication.
Corrine smiled as she lip-synched every word...
-Angela

Quiet Day

Corrine was dissapointed when her nurse Shirly left. Shirly could not tell her how long it would be before she got to go to heaven. It could be tomorrow, or it could be weeks away. It's the same story they told us before Corrine began her journey with Hospice.

We have been so impressed by our hospice care providers. Corrine has cried with joy because of the love she has experience through their calm voices and tender hands. And they have been very good guiding us through her care and preparing us for what lies ahead.

Corrine's vitals continue to remain the same, with an elevated heart rate and lower than normal blood pressure... but consistent with a few days ago.

Corrine's face is pale, her skin taunt over her cheek-bones. Corrine is slow to speak, her voice is quiet, and her words are a little slurred. But when Camille called this morning she spoke a loud and clear "Happy Birthday!" and her eyes lit up the room.

We are thankful for continued pain management. We followed the nurses advice and left a light on and background music playing last night. Corrine rested much better, except for needing help changing her position periodically.

Corrine enjoyed a comfortable bed bath this morning and is resting well.

-Angela

Sunday, January 11, 2009

Dreams

As you know if you read the previous post, I went to the National Western Stock show today to watch freestyle reining, which is like pairs figure skating for horses. The riders create an original routine set to music of their choice, with costumes to match. The personalities of the pairs really shine through. There were a few in particular where horse and rider were picturea of grace and unity... they demonstrated what I strive for with every ride. It was both inspirational and heart-wrenching.

When I was little, my mom used to take me to the stock show. She would walk down aisle after aisle of cows, chickens, and goats with me without complaint. Mom would wait as I stood in awe of the Budweiser Draft Horses with feet bigger than dinner plates and wait some more while I examined every stall to find my favorite horse. Once, Mom sat in those cold, hard seats until after midnight watching a horse jumping event. Best of all, when I told my mom that I would one day compete at the stock show, she didn't laugh.

Of course, as a supportive parent I suppose she did a lot of head-nodding and smiling. When I was a child, I said things like that along with things like "I'm going to be president of the United States." Although my political aspirations have not grown (I just wish them for others now), I never run out of dreams having to do with horses.

A few years ago, I got a new horse and began making long-standing dreams come true. I ride in trail competitions, which is like motorcross for horses, and had visions of learning reining.

Today I was dreaming again when I told her "Maybe it'll be me riding there someday." Mom responded confidently, "Yes. Maybe next year."

But there is no next year with her. I'll never take her on a carriage ride. She'll never see me compete again. I'll never be able to show her the horseman I've become.

I'm heart-broken, feeling like an abandoned child left on the door-step of a church. "What am I going to do with out my mom?"

So tonight, I pray that I will see all of the good that is coming from Mom's suffering and ultimate death. I pray for lost to be found. For Peace. For Unity. And for a better understanding of God's unending love. I pray that my mom's suffering, and my own, will make a difference in the lives of many and her legacy will last forever.

I pray that dreams will come true!

-Angela

The Daily Life in the Leoni Household


Mom is doing very well today, just tired. We are waiting for the certified nursing assistant to make a visit for Corrine's bath. He should arrive any minute now.


Meanwhile, Angela is off to the National Western Stock show with her Aunt Eunice Bollinger today. Thought you would enjoy a picture of the girls before they left. I have a hunch that Angela will be taken by the horses and Aunt Eunice by the hats that are both to be prominently on display at the event!


Many thanks to MacKenzie Smith who spent several hours yesterday scanning a lifetime of pictures into digital form. Here he is with my sister Angela and his mother Lois Smith hard at work.

Hope you are doing well.
Steve

Breakfast of Champions

I was sitting with my mother this morning and she asked what time it was. I replied that it was about 8:30 or 9 in the morning. She promply responded by asking for what I would call the breakfast of champions: Coke and Apple sauce. Mmmmm....

She is in good spirits this morning. Weak but good.

Steve