My mom had been in declining health for a number of years. She had surgeries to have valves replaces on her heart, she had a lot of pain from her deteriorating bones, but she was still there. I talked to her once a week on the phone, and tried to get back home to visit her and my dad, once a month.
I wasn't expecting "The Call." It came, and I was thinking I had a few days to make it home. Kathy stressed I should get home fast. This was serious. This was it. Probably, it.
My boss Jeff, and his admin, Carol, made the calls, and arrangements. I was on my way to the airport in Houston by the early afternoon. A lot of the day was in a blur.
I landed in Pittsburgh. It was late and and April snow was falling. I drove east from Pittsburgh on US Route 22. The snow was getting bad. The tires were slipping, but I made it back to my hometown of Portage around 1:00 am. As I drove into down, all the lights went out. The town went dark. I thought, "I'm too late. Mom is gone."
Thankfully, she wasn't. The house was dark and quiet. Who met me at the door? I don't remember. Mom was sleeping in her chair. The one she always slept in because it was the only place she could be comfortable. I kissed her on her forehead, and fell asleep.
The next morning, mom was awake, but she had trouble moving her legs to walk. A friend of the family, a friend of my sister Alice, I think, said to call hospice. My brother Tim arrived from Florida, and he and I sat on either side of Mom. She woke up, looked at us, and said, "My boys are here!" Then closed her eyes again. That was the last thing I remember her saying to us.
By Monday afternoon, the TV room as we called it, was a makeshift hospital room. The vigil began. Mom was going downhill quickly. Faster than we thought. We took turns sitting up with her through Monday night. I got a copy of Jane Erye, her favorite book, and read passages from it to her. She was reaching her hands up and talking to people on the other side, just as I had been told the dying do.
Tuesday arrived, and the family was in and out all day. Mom was now on Morphine to ease her pain and suffering. We tried to get ice into her dry mouth. Her breathing was becoming labored. Other people came by. Mrs. Bridge, my mom's friend since they were in their twenties, came by. Calls were made to other family members to let them know my mom was on her way out of this life.
April 25th, Wednesday came. Everyone was around. We watched Mom. My sisters especially knew the sequence of events to come. I remember standing on the front porch of my house, smoking a cigarette, and saying to my nephew, Michael, "This sure is a fcked up way to spend time with the family." He agreed. His new girlfriend, Cassandra had given my mom some reflexology. It seemed to help.
Sometime in the afternoon, my sisters said it would not be long now. It was only Wednesday. I had just spoke to her last week, and saw her conscious on Monday.
Around 6:45pm, we were eating some food, and one of my sisters said we needed to get to mom's bedside. The color had left her legs, meaning that all her blood was being pushed to her internal organs, her breath got shallow. I got down on my knees on the left side of mom's bed, I broke down. I took mom's hand and put it on my head, like she used to do to me as a little boy. Then, she kept breathing. For a little longer. I went out on the front porch and hugged my Aunt Jane and my cousin Ellen. Then we were called back into the house.
Everyone that could be there was there. My dad was up by mom's head on her right side. My brother was there. Both my sisters were there. My Aunt Jane and Cousin Ellen were there. My Nephews Ricky, Michael and Justin were there. Cassandra was there. My nieces Heidi and Mandi were there. My nephew Adam was somewhere between West Virginia and Pennsylvania speeding to get there.
We were all around my mom, all those faces of God closest to her, when she took her last breath, and then she was gone. She died like we all should be so lucky to die. Surrounded by people who loved her, at home. It was as beautiful as it was horrifying. Alice Joann (Stupi) Wodoslawsky was no longer there. Only the vehicle that she lived her life in remained. Her worn out, used up body was all that was left of my mom. Where did she go?
When the people from the funeral home came to mom's body away, they used the back door. My nephew Adam had just made it in the front door as mom was being taken out. As they carried her out through the back yard, a breeze blew, and apple blossoms fell onto her as she passed under the tree. It was perfect.
Reflecting on my mom's passing made me think of all the other Faces of God that have passed on. Where have they gone to, too? Maybe there is a place called Heaven, maybe their consciousness was uploaded into the computer simulation this could all very well be. Maybe she is already back here. A little blonde haired girl picking daisies in a field somewhere.
Wherever she is, I miss her. But, I'm lucky. My mom knew how much I loved her, and I knew how much she loved me. There were no words left unsaid. No old wounds that needed healing.
There is more of the story to tell. Perhaps another time.
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