LOSING MOM - Part 9
Mom and Lib were sleeping when I poked my head through the door a few minutes later. Trying not to disturb them, I tiptoed around Lib stretched out in the recliner, and settled myself in as quietly as I could on the built-in couch. But just as I was pulling my laptop out of my bag, Lib cracked an eye.
“Shoot, sorry!” I whispered. “How was your night?”
“Horrible,” she whispered back groggily “She was up all night. Kept thinking she had to go to the bathroom, but then couldn’t go.”
“Why don’t you go back to the apartment? Get some sleep?” I urged.
“I think I’m too tired to drive.”
“Ok, I’ll be really quiet. But one thing...Sal and I talked a lot last night and think maybe it’s time to move her to Hospice. Are you okay with that?”
Lib looked at me, then looked over at our sleeping mother, the hiss of the oxygen machine the only sound in the room.
“She’s so tired. And so sad. I think, yes, we have to do something.”
“Then I guess I’ll go talk to the nurse and see what we have to do. Go back to sleep...I'll make sure no one comes in."
Slipping out into the hall, I closed the door as gently as I could and walked down the corridor to the nurse’s station. A pretty, young nurse looked up from her paperwork as I approached the counter.
‘Can I help you?’ she asked.
“I’m not exactly sure,” I replied hesitantly.”I’m Kay’s daughter? In Room 609? We...well, we spoke to the Hospice liaison yesterday and umm..well, we think it’s time. We’d like to go ahead and see if there’s a bed available in the Perrysburg facility. Do you know how we should do that?”
My words seemed to hang in the air between us for a moment, as though giving us both a chance to absorb their weight. Our eyes met, and I felt tears building up in mine when I saw the compassion in hers.
“I can definitely make that call for you. I am so sorry. Are you okay? Can I get you anything?”
“No, no I’m fine. Thank you though.” I took a deep breath, pushing the tears back, and gave her a smile.
“So we just wait to see what we do next?”
“Once a bed is found, someone will let you know. Then they’ll arrange for the ambulance transport. So yes, just sit tight. Either me or the hospice liaison will be in as soon as it’s arranged.”
“I know there’s no control over this, but if there’s any way to get her into Perrysburg...well, it would just mean a lot. We all grew up there, so it would feel like we’re going home.”
The nurse promised that she would pass that along, and so I wandered slowly back down the hall, praying silently that there would be a bed in Perrysburg. It just seemed that if we could get Mom in there, surrounded by so many familiar places and people, it would somehow make this whole situation just a little more bearable.
There were two places in the world Mom loved above all others. One of them was Perrysburg, where she and Dad settled down to raise their family, and even though my sisters and I all moved away after college, we never really left it, at least in our hearts.
A small Ohio town, set on the banks of the Maumee River, Perrysburg offered us a safe, almost idyllic childhood. We could ride our bikes anywhere. Everyone knew everyone else, and though that could sometimes be a bit stifling, especially to a young teenage girl, it also gave me a certain sense of belonging to something bigger than myself. At least in hindsight.
Because when I was a young teenage girl, I couldn’t bear it! Yes, everyone knew each other, but that also meant everyone knew everything about each other, too.
One time I got home from being at my boyfriend’s house, a bit of a bad boy who neither of my parents liked very much, and my mother stood waiting for me in the kitchen, fire spitting from her eyes.
“I hope you know the whole town will be talking about you soon,” she said as I walked through the door.
“Talking about what?” I asked, not quite sure where this was leading, but knew from her voice that it was pretty bad.
“Mrs. F saw you and Chris all over each other just now. In the middle of the day! Right in front of the window! Do you want everyone to think you’re that kind of a girl?”
Hands on hips, mouth set in a stern line, head cocked to the side, my mother was as mad as I’d ever seen her. At least with me.
It seemed that my boyfriend’s next door neighbor had called my mom after seeing him and me making out on his couch in front of the large picture window in their family room. I cringed a little inside as I stood listening to Mom, because I knew that what Mrs. F had witnessed had been pretty, well...intense. I mean, our clothes were all on, but still, not something you want your parents’ friends seeing. Or telling your mom about.
Of course, being a 16-year-old, rather than apologizing and promising it wouldn't happen again, I stomped up to my room, slamming the door and blaming the entire incident on the fact that we lived in a stupid, small town where everyone was in everyone else's business.
Which just made Mom madder, so then she told Dad, and then...well, let's just say I didn't see my boyfriend too much the next few weeks.
It wasn’t until I had moved away and was raising my own family that I started to see Perrysburg the way my parents had seen it. Not a jail cell at all, but a safe haven where friends looked out for each other, and each other's kids.
Anyway, when Mom decided to sell her house and move to the apartment in Swan Creek, one of the hardest things for all of us was that she’d be leaving Perrysburg.
Granted, it was only a 10 minute drive away across the river, and she was still able to do all of her shopping and errands in familiar territory. But Mom and Perrysburg had somehow, over the span of sixty years, become inextricably intertwined.
It was hard to think of one without the other.
Mom loved that town fiercely, like a mother loves a child, and worked tirelessly to protect its unique character from developers and the like. She was an enormous supporter of the small, local businesses, and her heart broke every time one closed its doors because of pressure from the big chain stores.
First went Houcks, the corner drugstore. That broke my heart, too, as some of my happiest memories were in that store…sitting at the soda fountain with my friends after school, eating chocolate marshmallow sundaes and swirling around on the red-seated stools. Roaming the aisles as a teenager, picking out the newest shampoo or mascara, and being able to just say ‘charge it’ to my parent’s account.
Not quite the same experience at CVS!
The last hold-out was Mills Hardware which luckily stayed open until just before Mom decided to move. Actually, maybe it closing was one of the reasons Mom decided to move, because where else could she go when she needed help opening a jar, or changing the batteries in her flashlight?
Certainly not Home Depot or Lowes.
So getting her into the Perrysburg Hospice, a place she’d been so many times visiting friends at the end of their lives, would feel like we were bringing Mom full circle .
Back where she belonged.
Note to Reader: This is a story in progress, so I am sharing it as I write it, as a way to spur me on. If you're interested in following along, here is the link to the others I've written so far. Thanks!