Was a wee bit pissed earlier today, and it was about something that I would have laughed about a couple of months ago and will probably laugh about a couple months from now. Today just wasn’t the day.

I stopped in health services and had to drop something off for the PA. I walked back to where he sees inmates and see a gurney. Not empty. A body on the gurney covered with a sheet. I just stood there for a second, noted that the shoes were prison issue, that there was definitely a figure under the blanket, definitely not breathing. I also reminded myself that no one dies at the prison, they are always pronounced at the hospital. But still… The last figure I saw on a gurney was my Mom. When I left the hall with the gurney, a couple of the staff in health services were laughing about it, thinking that they’d
"gotten" me and about how they would be getting their supervisor later in the morning. Ha – fucking – ha. That was some hilarious shit. The next time one of them hits a deer, remind me to leave a deer head in the back seat for them. That would be so damned FUNNY.

Sorry, like I said, I’m a bit sensitive about death at this point. The odd thing is that I’m feeling more and more at peace about Mom’s passing. I think it does help that we’ve been grieving and preparing for this since the diagnosis. I can remember that night, when we got back to Yankton, crying with Amy and saying that my mom was going to die. I remember waking up in the middle of the night, sobbing because I knew we’d lose her. All through the summer, a nagging voice in the back of my head kept asking me what I was most afraid of. That was answered when the cancer came roaring back. So, I’ve been preparing for it for several months. I recall the days at work following the diagnosis. I’d basically stare and nod for the inmate, all the while thinking that their problems were nothing compared to the real crap I was going through.

Oh, found the poem Mom had paraphrased (and asked that the pastor use in his sermon. Here it is:

Weep not, weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.
Heart-broken husband — weep no more;
Left-lonesome daughter — weep no more;
Grief-stricken son — weep no more;
She's only just gone home.
Day before yesterday morning,
God was looking down from his great, high heaven,
Looking down on all his children,
And his eye fell on Sister Caroline,
Tossing on her bed of pain.
And God's big heart was touched with pity,
With the everlasting pity.
And God sat back on his throne,
And he commanded that tall, bright angel standing at his right hand:
Call me Death!
And that tall, bright angel cried in a voice
That broke like a clap of thunder:
Call Death! — Call Death!
And the echo sounded down the streets of heaven
Till it reached away back to that shadowy place,
Where Death waits with his pale, white horses.
And Death heard the summons,
And he leaped on his fastest horse,
Pale as a sheet in the moonlight
Up the golden street Death galloped,
And the hoof of his horse struck fire from the gold,
But they didn't make no sound.
Up Death rode to the Great White Throne,
And waited for God's command.
And. God said: Go down, Death go down,
Go down to Savannah, Georgia,
Down in Yamacraw,
And find Sister Caroline.
She's borne the burden and heat of the day,
She's labored long in my vineyard,
And she's tired —
She's weary —
Go Down Death, and bring her to me.
And Death didn't say a word,
But he loosed the reins on his pale, white horse,
And he clamped the spurs to his bloodless sides,
And out and down he rode,
Through heaven's pearly gates,
Past suns and moons and stars;
On Death rode,
And foam from his horse was like a comet in the sky;
On Death rode,
Leaving the lightning's flash behind;
Straight on down he came.
While we were watching round her bed,
She turned her eyes and looked away,
She saw what we couldn't see;
She saw Old Death. She saw Old Death
Coming like a falling star.
But Death didn't frighten Sister Caroline;
He looked to her like a welcome friend.
And she whispered to us: I'm going home.
And she smiled and closed her eyes.
And Death took her up like a baby,
And she lay in his icy arms,
But she didn't feel no chill.
And Death began to ride again --
Up beyond the evening star,
Out beyond the morning star,
Into the glittering light of glory,
On to the Great White Throne.
And there he laid Sister Caroline
On the loving breast of Jesus.
And Jesus he took his own hand and wiped away her tears.
And he smoothed the furrows from her face,
And the angels sang a little song,
And Jesus rocked her in his arms,
And kept a-saying: Take your rest,
Take your rest, Take your rest.
Weep not — weep not,
She is not dead;
She's resting in the bosom of Jesus.

God's Trombone: Seven Negro Sermons In Verse
James Weldon Johnson
Penguin Books: 1955

Wed.
Spent part of today listening to some music that I found comfort in since the diagnosis and find comfort in now that Mom is gone. Probably should put it all together on one CD. Today is probably going to be a primarily lyrics posting, a couple songs that have been helping me get through.

Got a note from Dad and money for the Thanksgiving turkey. He said there were another 15 cards waiting for him when he got home. He also emailed tonight and said that he’s doing okay. I’m sure it’s been hard being in the house alone, but he does need it so he can grieve without worrying about what anyone else is thinking, including his sons and their families.



Say Goodbye
by Doris Muramatsu Performed by Girlyman

It's a simple day outside.
The sun is the only thing shining,
Not a cloud in the sky.
No hint of you.

I will always regret
Never hearing your best secrets.
And your mind with all its witty jokes,
Your hand restless, reaching for another smoke.

Can you see how I miss you so?
Can't believe your wanting to go,
'Cause I just don't know how to make myself
Let you go.

And I still can't seem to find
A simple way to say goodbye.
I'm not the kind for regret.
Was there something I wanted to forget?
Either way you'd already made up your mind.

It's a matter of faith.
Shut your eyes and believe that it will take.
Though it's hard with these doubts, I know with no doubt,
That you're resting somewhere great.

Can you see how I miss you so?
Can't believe your wanting to go,
'Cause I just don't know how to make myself
Let you go.

And I still can't seem to find
A simple way to say goodbye.
I'm not the kind for regret.
Was there something I wanted to forget?
Either way you'd already made up your mind.

Had a couple of "grief quakes" during the day. Just moments where my mind would go to Mom and I’d break down. I noted this afternoon that I’ve got a pretty good depression going on. It was tough being in the office where I got the call and I don’t really feel like listening to inmates bitch about what is wrong with their lives. Just can’t handle hearing that at the moment. Luckily, the new therapist here is doing very well, better than I could have hoped. Also helps that there have been so few kites coming in for services. We’ll see if that remains the case.

I had a card in my mail box and had some staff at the prison stop me to offer their condolences today. Reinforces that I’m working alongside some good people.

Sounds as though my brother and his family will be joining us for Thanksgiving. We also invited Amy’s folks. I pray the weather holds so we can all be together. There will a hole at the table, but she’ll be there.

Made it home. Good to be back, but it was hard to leave today. As we drove away from the house, I realized that it’s the first time I’ve left that house without my mother telling me that she loved me.

Had a couple of cards here, including one from Allen Lepke’s parents. His father is going through treatment for lung cancer. They have been in my prayers and will continue to be there. From what Amy’s told me, it sounds like Allen is spending a lot of time with his dad. He won’t regret a minute of it. We also got a card from a neighbor and the SIL of Amy Geraets, who lost a parent recently. So many losses. Also had a number of emails to get through. Only phone message was from someone who was incredibly snotty because Amy hadn’t called to tell her the La Leche meeting was cancelled on Sat. Pissed me off a bit, but there is no way the woman could have known.

Dad took us out to lunch again, once again to McDonalds in Pipestone. He said he wanted the kids to burn off some energy. They did that and more though neither really slept on the way home.

I kept Dad company on his errands today. We first stopped at the post office so Dad could get the thank you cards in the mail. The rural carrier was there and gave Dad his mail. Another 20 cards. I worked on getting them open as we completed the errands.

We stopped at the office supply store in Slayton to get prices on the easels and bulletin boards. We then went to buy some birthday cards, then to the drug store so Dad could get some reprints of a photo of Mom with her best friend from when she was a girl. Mom was about 15 in the photo. Her friend wanted a copy, I did as well. We then stopped at the local paper for the "Card of Thanks" ad to go into the paper. Dad had written it up yesterday evening and asked me to look it over (Mom’s old role, to check our punctuation, spelling, grammar, etc.

Then we went to the bank to drop off the death certificate. Then to the florist. Dad is the treasurer for both the first responders and the fire dept. Yep, none of those geniuses thought to pay the bills and submit for personal reimbursement. Dad ended up paying those bills. He also got some contact information about a woman he’d coached in track who ended up being one of Mom’s nurses last December. Dad is going to call to thank her.

From there, we drove to Avoca to the insurance agent, then back home. Dad got the money together and took it to the bank (more money in the cards today). He wasn’t comfortable in leaving that much money sitting in the house while he’d be away.

We got packed up and headed out. It was tough saying goodbye to Dad after lunch. I know how much pain I’m feeling, but I have Amy and the kids to share it with. The person he had to share with is gone.

Kind of quiet today. No visitors. Amy made lunch (heated up some food that had been brought over). Mark and Shannon left after lunch. We watched some football and ended up taking the picture boards apart and tried to get the pictures back where they belonged. Think we did okay.

Before they left, Mark and Shannon talked with Dad about keeping Mom’s ashes for a little while. Mark had told me yesterday that Dad wanted to be buried with some of Mom’s ashes. Dad has since told us that he intends to be cremated as well. Mark thinks it would be good if we’d mix up their ashes before spreading them. Not at ALL what Mom wanted. She told us to spread the ashes, no place special, but she wanted them gone, not saved. When her father died, his ashes ended up in someone’s closet and were basically forgot about. Not a fate I want for Mom’s cremains. Dad said he does want to save some for when the marker is up at the cemetery. He wants a little bit of the remains to bury there, so that a part of Mom will be there. I know Mom said she didn’t want her ashes buried, but I don’t think she’d mind just a little bit if it would be a comfort to Dad.

So, I’m a little edgy with my brother and his wife at the moment. I asked Mark about Thanksgiving. His response was to shrug and tell me they had no plans. Amy and I then decided that we’d have Thanksgiving and invited Dad during supper (which was leftovers so the fridge would be cleaned out a bit). Dad accepted.

I should sit down with them and ask them their understanding of Mom’s wishes and what Dad wants to do. It’s like they think because they are older that they know what is better for Dad in this situation. What Dad wants to do is follow Mom’s wishes at this point.

I think Dad thought I was with them because he told me he’d be scattering Mom’s ashes by himself. I told him I want to be there and want to be there when he places some at the marker. I do as it is part of the whole process. Maybe we can ask the pastor to be there as well to say a few words. If not, I’ll have a verse or two ready to go.

We’ll be heading out tomorrow. Dad has some running around to do, taking death certificates to the places we visited on Thursday. He also wants to pay the funeral home and return things there. Then he’ll be heading to Mitchell so he can fulfill a promise he and Mom had made to Mariah (to see one of her basketball games).

HERE IS THE TEXT OF MY REMARKS ON BEHALF OF THE FAMILY AT THE MEMORIAL:

In the past few days, I’m sure we’ve all remembered thousands of things about Mom. One of the things that helped at this time is to hear family and friends share some of their favorite memories of Mom. It is impossible to sum up what Mom meant to all of us in a few minutes. We all know what she meant to us in our hearts.

Mom spent the last year fighting the disease that ultimately took her life. In Mom’s last few weeks, we got to see first hand the wonderful work done by hospice. Daryl, Cheryl, and Ann, I’d like to thank you on behalf of my family for everything. I’d also like to thank Linda for everything she’s done for Mom and Dad in the past year.

There have been some truly wonderful moments in the past year, but many were bitter sweet as we knew the prognosis was not good. As I thought back these last few days about some of my favorite memories of Mom, there are a few that rise to the top.

The first is a legend in the family. One day, Mom was driving Mark and I someplace. We were being a bit noisy and Mom was getting frustrated with us. I can’t recall who asked her a question, but it was her response that got our attention. She told us to be quiet, then told us that she is unable to think and drive at the same time. I think Mark and I were quiet for a second, then started to express our fear at being driven by someone who was either thinking or driving, but not both at the same time. Mom didn’t get the quiet she wanted that day and was reminded of what she said at least yearly.

Some of my favorite memories of Mom are of when she and Linda would drag us kids along on some adventure when we were younger. As we got older, they went off on their own and probably had a lot more fun. Eric and I reminisced about an incident where we were traveling to Sioux Falls with our mothers. They were visiting and saw a hitchhiker on the side of the road. They began talking about how sad it is to see someone down on their luck and how dangerous it is to hitchhike and all the horror stories they’d heard about what happened to people who picked up hitchhikers. About five minutes after they finished, they believed Eric and I that we’d missed our exit and were well on our way to Mitchell.

Another adventure with the Johnson’s was trying to find Candy Cane Lane in Sioux Falls. We traveled through about two dozen neighborhoods, Linda and Mom assuring all of us that the next street would be the one. I recall we got to less and less populated areas, then ended up in a town and came to find out we’d ended up in Brandon. Mom and Linda did eventually find Candy Cane Lane, but it was without our assistance.

Yesterday, I was in the kitchen and remembered an exchange between Mark and Mom. Mark came down stairs and asked Mom what a person would use to put out an electrical fire. Mom’s response was to ask Mark if he had such a fire. Mark continued to ask what to use and began rummaging through the cupboard. Mom continued to ask if he had such a fire. I ended up running to get Dad.

I also remembered Mom playing with our Atari video game system one day, playing Pac-Man. Instead of simply moving the joystick, Mom would use body language to try to help the character she was controlling on the screen.

In true crises, Mom was strong. It was the minor things that threw her off sometimes. I can recall as a boy the first time Mom pumped her own gas and how proud she was of herself. Fast forward about 20 years. Mom and Dad were taking Amy and I out to eat. Mom put gas in the car. As the pump was running, we noticed a sign that said the pump was out of order, the automatic shut-off would not work. We alerted Mom to this. She responded by yelling that she could hear the gas coming to the top and asking what she should do. She got everything shut down, but I had visions of a geyser of gas erupting from the side of the car. I think it is still one of Amy’s funniest memories of Mom. Well, maybe tied with Mom thinking that it was impossible that Amy could have seen a skunk by the house until Mom saw the skunk for herself.

There are so many memories, and more coming back to me every minute. Mom taking me to a lake she’d swum in as a child and finding the lake had been drained. Mom and Dad taking all of us to Florida so we could help them celebrate their retirement. As I look back on Mom’s life, I’ve come to realize that with Mom, the destination wasn’t always as important as having fun during the journey.

Mom started planning for this day 12 years ago. She planned her memorial so we’d have little to do but follow her wishes. About four years ago, she bought a book to have at the house in the event that she or Dad died. The book was written as message from the person who died to those left behind. I’ve read through the book a couple times since Mom got sick. My favorite part is the ending of the book,

"I will cherish all the friendship I was fortunate to find,
all the love and all the laughter in the place I leave behind.
All these good things will go with me.
They will make my spirit glow
And that light will shine forever
In the next place that I go."

On Monday, Mom’s sister and parents were visiting. Pat asked if Mom saw anything when she closed her eyes. Mom replied that what she saw was so beautiful we’d not believe it. I think of that as Mom’s last gift to us.

Mom, we love you and will miss you for the rest of our lives. We’re all thankful that you are finally at peace and have gone to be in all that beauty.

Forgot to include this before publishing the last blog. Dad and I opened the notes from Mom together. Not sure what was in Mark's, but Dad asked if he could read mine and let me read his. I will be saving the card from Mom for as long as I live, but wanted to share what she wrote both to me and to Dad.

Dear Cory,
I just wanted to tell you how much I love you, and how much I always loved you.
Your growing up years weren't always easy, but less so for you than for us. We didn't really have many problems. We enjoyed your triumphs in speeck and music.
I think you are going to be a good father and husband - as you have been so far.
Please always feel me with you. I love you,
Mom


Dear Myron,
Thank you again for everything - marriage, kids, care.
I really meant it when I said that if the roles had been reversed, I probably couldn't have done all that you did for me.
Thanks for taking such good care of me.
You have been a good husband and I appreciate it.
Be happy -
I love you.
Mary

What a beautiful, crappy day it ended up to be. Mom would have loved the weather today. It was sunny, blue sky, temps. in the lower 50’s. Not bad for MN in mid-November. A lot happened today that I want to remember, and I’m going to try to go in chronological order as best I can.

I woke up when Amy got out of bed at around 7 this morning. I didn’t get out of bed right away as I kept thinking of what I had to do during the day. Amy told me later that she’d gotten up because she’d heard the noise of one of the dining room chairs being pulled out from the table, so she thought someone was up. She and Cole went down and found no one there. The chair in front of my remarks looked like it had been pulled out, almost like Mom wanted a look.

While Amy was in the kitchen and Cole was in the dining room (with a line of sight to the front door), Amy heard the sound of the front door opening and closing several times. She said Cole pointed and said, "Grandma out door." He saw her. Given that he is too young to really know what is happening, I can’t just write this off as a hallucination. He saw her.

Shannon (SIL) asked about my including thanks to hospice in the remarks, asking if I was happy with the job they’d done. I told her that over all, they were wonderful, that they’d gone above and beyond in helping Mom with a few miscommunications along the way. I pointed out to her as well that Dad had asked that I be sure to thank them in the family remarks. Don’t know why she’s so upset with the job hospice was doing. It’s not as if she was there more than once after Mom came back from the hospital. She didn’t get to see hospice working with Mom this time around. Shannon still blames hospice for Mom’s near fatal overdose last Christmas but no one apparently read the label until Mom had taken the morphine. As it turns out, two of the three from hospice were there, and it meant a lot to Dad that they were thanked by the family.

As we were getting ready, my uncle Neil, his wife and daughter arrived. We’d not been expecting his daughter but were really happy as it meant that more than half of Mom’s nieces would be at the memorial. Neil did come into the house and seemed to do okay. He and Mark seem to take after one another in that they don’t show a lot of emotion (guess that must be weak, huh?). We finished getting ready and headed to the church.

When I arrived with Dad, my in-laws were there. It was good to see them.

We were amazed by what we found when we got there. So many flowers and plants! I think there were 36 in all. Our arrangement, Mom’s siblings and parents had an arrangement (w. ribbons "Daughter" and "Sister"). David, Linda, and Eric sent a beautiful bouquet as well – Mom would have loved the arrangement as there were a couple of old books attached to it. The city of Lake Wilson sent an arrangement, as did the fire dept., the first responders (Dad belongs to both). My work here sent something, as did Lewis and Clark Behav. health (even though I’m just doing contract work for them). The health services from the prison sent a plant. Our friends, the Lepkes and Geraets sent a beautiful plant (which about broke my heart as Amy Geraets lost her father several years ago and knows about losing a parent, and Allen’s father doesn’t have a good prognosis with his own cancer) as did one of my high school classmates – Jon Bloomendaal. There were even things sent by friends of my uncle Ken, who’d meant Mom just a few times. Some from my aunt Pat’s husband’s family… The café in Lake Wilson sent something. So many. We broke down again seeing all the arrangements, knowing how many people are grieving her loss with us.

I stayed at the front of the church for much of the hour before the service. Dad’s sisters and their husbands made it, along with my cousins, Julie and Tim from that side of the family. The principal from Edgerton was there for a little while but was unable to stay for the service. All of my aunt Pat’s girls and their families made it, got to see my cousin’s new babies. It was bittersweet as I know how much Mom liked being around babies and her own grandchildren. I ended up having to ask my brother-in-law, Jeremy, to help with running the CD player for the service (thanks, Jer.). The time literally flew. Next thing I knew, I was downstairs for the family service. I broke down a bit during that. We walked back upstairs. Dad’s sister, Marian, played "Wind Beneath My Wings" on the piano. When she got back, Jeremy started "What a Wonderful World" on the CD player. I was doing fine until the line, "I hear babies cry, I watch them grow." My mind went back to Mom holding my kids for the first time and I lost it for a bit. I saw Chandler was also having a rough time as the service began. I recovered in time for my remarks.

I think it went okay. I felt out of breath as I started and let one big gust of air out into the microphone. I was amazed at how many people were at the service. The place looked full. I also saw the funeral home getting the plants from the back of the church and loading them up to take to our house. I got through it, which was important to me. I choked up with the last few words, but got to share some memories of Mom. Probably a grain of sand’s worth on the beach of my memories of Mom.

I thought the pastor did a good job with the sermon. I broke down during each of the hymns. Both were selected by Mom, and I kept thinking of how the music was a message from her to us.

Then, next thing I know, the service is over ("Joy to the World") and we’re lead downstairs. I stayed with Dad a little while, tried to help comfort Chandler (who was nearly hyperventilating, reminding me of what I was like when MY Grandma Nelson died). Our friends, Amy and Paul Geraets came down and talked with us for a little bit. I now know what Amy was feeling when she lost her father.

I started to feel the crush of people coming down and needed to get out for a little bit. I went back upstairs and sat and cried a little bit. I put back the CD player and got the CD of Mom’s music. I just looked around and felt the loss all over again. Cried a little more, then went downstairs. I ended up sitting by my best friend, Eric Johnson, his girlfriend, and his parents. We talked about some of the things we’d done to get in trouble when we were younger.

People made some sacrifices to be there, and I appreciated it a lot. My brother-in-law, Jeremy, had worked until 4:30 AM and had another 4-4 beginning Sat. afternoon, but he brought his family. My friend, Eric, had driven into the area on the night before to cover a football game, then had to drive back to Austin, MN to help put the sports page together, then drove back to his parents’ house. He and his girlfriend got there at about 4 AM.

I saw several of my old high school teachers and some of Mom’s former students and co-workers. Wonderful to see some of those people, horrible circumstances. There was even a highway patrol officer there in full dress uniform. Before the service, he accidentally hit his siren. Felt pretty embarrassed by it.

Dad’s sisters ended up leaving first. Dad asked that I let them in the house and pick out a plant (as he only wanted to keep 1 or 2 – he isn’t big on plants inside. Neither was Mom, she went with a "less is more" philosophy on plants inside, preferring to see them outside). My aunt Marian ended up taking the one from our friends. My cousin Julie took one as did aunt Marilyn. Dad ended up sending more plants with Mom’s family, my in-laws, and Mark. We brought back three plants and one of the bouquets. One plant will be going into my office. SIL Shannon was angry with me as she thought Dad should get to see all the plants before they were taken. I reminded her that Dad had asked me to go down to the house, that I was doing what he asked.

As people started arriving at the house, Dad and I took two bouquets to the hospital in Slayton, where Mom had been taken care of several times in the last year. When I got back, my in-laws were heading out.

Other family weren’t far behind. I helped my uncle Neil haul out some plants. He told me how impressed he was with everything that Dad had done for Mom in her final days. He told me he was proud of me for the remarks I’d made and that he knew Mom was proud of all of us as well. He added that when his time comes, he hopes he can face it with as much dignity and class as Mom and has someone like Dad there to help. Probably the closest to emotions my uncle Neil has come to expressing in my presence (other than anger, that is).

As we were getting my grandma loaded in to the car driven by my uncle Ken, Amy promised we’d go to Redfield for a visit. Amy also promised my aunt Terri that we’d be down to Oklahoma to visit at some point.

As the house emptied out, the plants thinned out more and more. Luckily, I’d set several aside for the rest of us to chose from. I do like the idea that so many people who love Mom have a plant in her memory.

My friend, Eric, stopped over for about an hour to get caught up on things.

We then got to work on Thank You cards. The funeral home has some that are pre-printed where you just add the name of the deceased. We got through most of the cards before supper and were done fairly early in the evening. Dad was relieved as he’d wanted to get the cards done. As we were finishing up, he asked if anyone had gotten the day’s mail. I went out – another 35 cards. We kicked into gear again. There were several people who sent a memorial to hospice in Mom’s name. Amy’s aunt and uncle, Ruth and Lloyd (who also had made it to the service), made a donation of some hymnals to our church in Mankato in Mom’s name. We ended the night with over $1200 in memorial money. Dad is planning on buying some easels and bulletin boards for the church (as we’d had to get creative to display the boards we’d put together). Not sure what he’ll do with the rest. Shannon suggested to him that he use it to pay bills. I’d like to see him get something for the playground (as Mom always liked taking the kids to play in the park). We’ll likely talk more about it in a week or two.

Mom’s remains were returned by the funeral home, left at the house when they delivered the flowers. Dad said we’ll likely spread them in the next couple of weeks. Odd having the last physical remnants of Mom in the house. Disturbing to see how small the box is. I’m glad that she was cremated, though. Mom always hated being cold and told me several times that the thought of her body being in the cold and dark creeped her out. I think Dad is now thinking of cremation. I know that is what I want done with my remains. Time for bed. Been a long day. The good news is that the kids are getting along great with one another. Chandler, Accalia, and Alec have been going almost non-stop. They will crash hard tonight.

Don’t know if I mentioned it, but one thing we found as we were doing everything on Thursday was the order of service Mom wanted at the memorial, also a paraphrase of a poem she’d done in 8th grade declamatory. We managed to get that to the pastor today (Friday) as Mom wanted it included in the sermon.

Dad had a little running around to do today (had to get his medication) and opted to do it alone. Said he needed some time by himself. We had several people from the community stop by during the day, dropping off food. I think we had 2 lasagnas, a hotdish, and buns and deli meat for sandwiches, not to mention pies. I remember it being like that when my Grandma Nelson died.

We took Dad and the kids to McDonalds for lunch (actually, Dad ended up taking us out as he refused to let me pay). It was good for the kids to be able to cut loose a little and play with some kids their age for a little while. After lunch, we stopped at a store to pick up some copies of the Argus Leader that had Mom’s obituary in it. We’d seen the one that had run earlier in the Worthington Daily Globe. Hard to see that in the paper. Since Mom was diagnosed, I actually look through the obits., I’d never really done it before. It is so sad seeing someone’s life boiled down to a few paragraphs.

Also while we were in Pipestone, we stopped at the hotel Mom’s brother, Ken and his wife would be staying at along with Mom’s parents. We let them know we had a lot of food and wanted them to come over to dinner in the evening.

When we got back, Dad and I went to the church. There was already a plant there, from the public school in Edgerton, where Dad substitute teaches. The principal there used to coach track with Dad (and coached Mark and I in track) and thinks a lot of Dad. It broke Dad up to see that. Our primary objective for the trip was to set up the photos of Mom. I’d found the one taken of her when her engagement to Dad was announced. We had that one and the one of Mom in her wedding dress out in front, the board we’d put together on a couple of easels.

We invited David and Linda to come to the meal in the evening as well. They and Mom’s family arrived and we ate and cried and shared memories of Mom. My uncle Ken had a hard time when he came in the door. He was having a hard time being in his sister’s house knowing that she wasn’t there. When they all first arrived, my uncle Neil (Mom’s oldest brother) called to tell us where he and his family were and that they’d not be coming as it was too tough for him to see Mom’s house without her being there.

After everyone left, I started to work on my remarks for the memorial on Saturday. I’d jotted down some notes, and Dad asked me to thank hospice and Linda for everything they did for Mom in her last days. I had a real tough time writing it down. I wanted to find some quote that summed everything up, but couldn’t find anything that really fit. I thought of a lyric by Sarah McLachlan, "Hold on to yourself, ‘cause this is going to hurt like hell." Also some other lyrics ran through my head, predominately of a song by Girlyman. At any rate, at some point, Amy came in and basically told me to stop agonizing about it and get it done, let it flow from the heart. She’d read the notes I’d made and thought it was good. I finally did get to work.

As I was going through and doing some revisions, Mark and his family arrived. The kids’ old school was in the SD football championship game, so they’d been at the Dakota Dome in Vermillion until the game was over. It was about 10:30 when they arrived. My nephew, Chandler came in by the computer and asked what I was doing. When I told him, he informed me that his mother (my sil) said that I’d not be able to say anything at the memorial because I’d be crying so much. Chandler then started to try to tease me about my crying (he’s going to be 8 in a few days) and I told him that I may cry because I’m sad about what happened and missing Mom a lot. When he tried to continue to make fun of me for actually having emotions, I chose to engage in some selective inattention. The remarks are done and sitting on the dining room table for Dad to look over in the morning. Mark and Shannon brought their board w. pictures of Mom, which we’ll get up there tomorrow. I need to get to sleep. We need to be there tomorrow by 9:30 and I don’t want Dad to be there alone (Amy is staying back w. the kids, not sure re: Mark).

Can’t recall where I left off, think it was going through what happened on Thursday. Don’t know if I mentioned it, but one thing we found as we were doing everything on Thursday was the order of service Mom wanted at the memorial, also a paraphrase of a poem she’d done in 8th grade declamatory. We managed to get that to the pastor today (Friday) as Mom wanted it included in the sermon.

Dad had a little running around to do today (had to get his medication) and opted to do it alone. Said he needed some time by himself. We had several people from the community stop by during the day, dropping off food. I think we had 2 lasagnas, a hotdish, and buns and deli meat for sandwiches, not to mention pies. I remember it being like that when my Grandma Nelson died.

We took Dad and the kids to McDonalds for lunch (actually, Dad ended up taking us out as he refused to let me pay). It was good for the kids to be able to cut loose a little and play with some kids their age for a little while. After lunch, we stopped at a store to pick up some copies of the Argus Leader that had Mom’s obituary in it. We’d seen the one that had run earlier in the Worthington Daily Globe. Hard to see that in the paper. Since Mom was diagnosed, I actually look through the obits., I’d never really done it before. It is so sad seeing someone’s life boiled down to a few paragraphs.

Also while we were in Pipestone, we stopped at the hotel Mom’s brother, Ken and his wife would be staying at along with Mom’s parents. We let them know we had a lot of food and wanted them to come over to dinner in the evening.

When we got back, Dad and I went to the church. There was already a plant there, from the public school in Edgerton, where Dad substitute teaches. The principal there used to coach track with Dad (and coached Mark and I in track) and thinks a lot of Dad. It broke Dad up to see that. Our primary objective for the trip was to set up the photos of Mom. I’d found the one taken of her when her engagement to Dad was announced. We had that one and the one of Mom in her wedding dress out in front, the board we’d put together on a couple of easels.

We invited David and Linda to come to the meal in the evening as well. They and Mom’s family arrived and we ate and cried and shared memories of Mom. My uncle Ken had a hard time when he came in the door. He was having a hard time being in his sister’s house knowing that she wasn’t there. When they all first arrived, my uncle Neil (Mom’s oldest brother) called to tell us where he and his family were and that they’d not be coming as it was too tough for him to see Mom’s house without her being there.

After everyone left, I started to work on my remarks for the memorial on Saturday. I’d jotted down some notes, and Dad asked me to thank hospice and Linda for everything they did for Mom in her last days. I had a real tough time writing it down. I wanted to find some quote that summed everything up, but couldn’t find anything that really fit. I thought of a lyric by Sarah McLachlan, "Hold on to yourself, ‘cause this is going to hurt like hell." Also some other lyrics ran through my head, predominately of a song by Girlyman. At any rate, at some point, Amy came in and basically told me to stop agonizing about it and get it done, let it flow from the heart. She’d read the notes I’d made and thought it was good. I finally did get to work.

As I was going through and doing some revisions, Mark and his family arrived. The kids’ old school was in the SD football championship game, so they’d been at the Dakota Dome in Vermillion until the game was over. It was about 10:30 when they arrived. My nephew, Chandler came in by the computer and asked what I was doing. When I told him, he informed me that his mother (my sil) said that I’d not be able to say anything at the memorial because I’d be crying so much. Chandler then started to try to tease me about my crying (he’s going to be 8 in a few days) and I told him that I may cry because I’m sad about what happened and missing Mom a lot. When he tried to continue to make fun of me for actually having emotions, I chose to engage in some selective inattention. The remarks are done and sitting on the dining room table for Dad to look over in the morning. Mark and Shannon brought their board w. pictures of Mom, which we’ll get up there tomorrow. I need to get to sleep. We need to be there tomorrow by 9:30 and I don’t want Dad to be there alone (Amy is staying back w. the kids, not sure re: Mark).

Today was easier for me, but tougher for Dad. He broke down once and has taken a couple of walks as I think he uses them to let loose without worrying about appearing strong for us.

I woke up this morning very early, around 6 and was unable to sleep anymore. When we were all waking up and getting going this morning, part of me was still expecting Mom to come out and ask how I’d slept and ask Amy if she needed anything for breakfast. Guess that’ll fade. Probably helps that she’d been declining over the last five weeks.

A couple things that Dad has told me have been a comfort to me. The first is that when Mom passed, Linda said that she felt as though she’d been hit in the stomach, then saw Mom’s face. Mom was smiling.

The second: Mom’s sister, mother, and step-father were down on Monday. My aunt asked Mom if she could see anything when she closed her eyes. Mom responded by saying "It’s so beautiful."

I am confident that Mom knew Jesus was her savior and had a place waiting for her in heaven. Those two things are a comfort because I can more easily envision Mom happy and in a better place.

A funny thing happened when everyone was visiting. Mom held up three fingers. They asked what Mom meant. She said, "You have three minutes until you have to leave." (she was very tired at this point). When everyone left, she sat on her bed and waved to everyone, saying "Bye-bye." Mom was eager for them to leave so she could get some rest.

Mom’s brother and his wife from OK is now at my Grandma’s. They and Mom’s sister (and family) will be coming as far as Pipestone, MN tomorrow. Don’t know who all is going to be at the memorial. Sounds like Dad’s sisters will be there and all Mom’s siblings and their spouses and half of Mom’s nieces will be there as well.

Went with Dad today to the bank in Slayton. We walked in and the person he needed had heard about Mom’s death on the radio and gave Dad a hug. We closed out Mom’s IRA and got the money transferred. From there we went to the greenhouse to pick out the arrangement for Mom. Then we went on to Avoca to the insurance company. We cancelled Mom’s health insurance. Then it was on to Worthington to get Dad a new shirt. Then back to Slayton to get some groceries (there were several people in the store who knew Dad and squeezed his shoulder, shared a word with him, or hugged him – the benefits of small communities) and finally back home.

We went to the church this afternoon to try out the music Mom wanted played at the service. Dad and I listened from a few points in the church. Once we knew we had it, we both started crying listening to the songs Mom wanted.

There have been a couple of people who’ve stopped to pay their respects and bring food. We’ve also gotten several calls, including one I got from my friend, Eric, which really lightened my day as he helped me recall some of the happy memories of Mom.

Dad said that Mom wanted the flowers at her service to go to the nurses at the hospital in Slayton as they’d been so good to her.

After supper tonight, we put together all the photos we could find of Mom onto poster board and a bulletin board which will be displayed at the church (as the remains won’t be there). So many memories. So many smiles that Mom had in the photos, especially when with the grandkids.

Having some negative feelings about Mark not being here. I understand his wanting to keep the kids in as normal a routine as possible, but I can recall missing a couple days of school when my Grandma Nelson died. I wonder if Mark just can’t handle being here at the moment. I was talking with Amy about it and had a thought pop in my head – Mom talking to me about getting along with my brother, putting things behind me, because after she and Dad are gone, we’ll only have each other. So, I’m taking that as Mom intervening to remind me to let it go. It’s Mark’s issue, not mine. I’m able to be here for Dad, and for that I’m thankful.

Mom passed away today around 9:30 AM. She was officially pronounced at around 10 AM by the hospice nurse. Dad had been back to check on her around 9:20. At about 9:45, Dad got back from an errand he was running and was told by a family friend, Linda Johnson, that Mom wasn’t breathing and that hospice had been called. Mom went in her sleep and went peacefully. She hadn’t eaten in 41 days and had dropped to 105 lbs. It sounds like either on Monday or Tuesday, she was dehydrated to the point where she could no longer close her eyes. Dad said he tried to get Mom’s eyes closed after she’d passed, but was unable to do so.

On Tuesday night, Dad helped Mom to the bathroom. When she was finished, she said something to the effect that she was done and started to stand up. She collapsed at that point and was not responsive to Dad’s questions. Dad said she had a couple gagging episodes on Tuesday night into early morning, but seemed to settle between 6 and 7.

I got the call from Dad around 10:50. I heard his voice and knew. It was the call I’d been dreading and praying for since October. I immediately left work and drove home, doing 75 – 80 MPH, bawling my eyes out and thanking God for ending her suffering during several stretches of road. I got home and we got on the road. Before we left, Mark called and said that they weren’t going to pull the kids from school but would get home after they pulled the kids. We got to Lake Wilson around 2:30 (after a stop in Sioux Falls to pick up some boxes of tissues and some food the kids will eat to keep at Grandpa’s house). We saw Dad walking. I got out and walked home with him and got the details of Mom’s passing. When we passed the barber shop, Jack came out and gave us a hug. Definitely a small town thing. The news of Mom’s passing had spread through the town before I got there.

We went to a meeting at the funeral home around 5. They were transporting Mom’s remains to be cremated at 6. Mark ended up getting there (with Shannon and Mariah) at 5:45. I’d not been sure if I wanted to view her, but looked into the room where she was and saw her. I had said my goodbyes to her over the past month, most recently on Saturday. Her last words to me were, "I love you." What more could a son wish for?

Mom left an envelope for each of us. I’ve not read it yet. Will probably let it go until Saturday after the service. Before will likely leave me a blubbering wreck.

We all went in to view her. She looked like she was at peace, which is what we’ve all prayed for since the cancer came back. The viewing was good in that it gave both kids a chance to see her. Cole just stared and probably had no idea what was going on. Accalia understands that Grandma is in heaven, that her body is simply what she left behind.

Mom had started planning her funeral back in 1992. The funeral director didn’t have a lot for us to go through as Mom had made her wishes clear. The hymns she wanted, the bible verses, the order of service, instructions re: her cremation, music she wanted played at the service. Everything done. Probably the best gift a parent can give to their children and surviving spouse. One of Mom’s wishes was that David and Linda (who Mom considered her "second sister") be seated with the family. Dad asked that if I had a problem with it. I don’t. If it hadn’t been Mom’s wishes, I’d like to think I’d have suggested it myself. David and Linda have both been incredible to Mom and Dad in the last year. They are family. Their son and I consider each other’s parents to be our surrogate parents on some level. I consider him a brother. They ARE family.

The memorial is going to be on Saturday at 10:30 AM. Visitation starts at 9:30 and a family service at 10:15. Dad asked that I say something at the service. Have no idea what I’m going to say or how I’m going to even be at the memorial. Mark said later that he agreed I should speak as that is something I’m good at doing and that he’d be unable to say anything as he’ll likely be crying so hard.

On the way home from the funeral home, Mark’s van (being driven by Shannon) blew a tire. Another little memory for a day that will live in infamy in our family.

Mark, Shannon, and Mariah ended up heading back to Mitchell at about 7:30 or 8:00. Mark had promised to take Mariah to the SD football playoffs if her old school, Gettysburg, made it to state. They made it and play Friday night at 5:30 PM. So, Amy and I are here with Dad. I’m going to go with him tomorrow to get some business cleared up, order flowers at the greenhouse, go to Worthington to get him a new white shirt, and go to the insurance company that issued Mom’s health insurance to cancel the policy. I’d have liked it if at least Mark had stayed so he could be along as we do some of those things, but they’ll apparently be back after the football game Fri. night.

It is truly a blessing that Mom was taken. I don’t know how much more she could have endured and definitely don’t know how much more we could have taken. I miss her SO much, but have already been talking with her, letting her know how happy I am that she is finally free of the pain and letting her know that we’ll be okay here until we join her.

I was truly blessed to have you as my mother. The man I am now is a direct result of what you and Dad did to raise me. I love you and I’ll miss you as long as I live.

Back home from visiting my parents. Mom will likely be gone within the next few days. She rated her pain at an 8 today when hospice was over. Hospice bumped up the pain meds. When I left, I felt a little guilty. I don't want Dad to be alone when Mom does pass, but at the same time am not sure I'd be able to handle being there when she does. In the house I could probably handle, but not at her bed side. There was one point yesterday where her breathing got a little labored and I thought "this is it." I just sat there for 15 minutes and watched her chest rise and fall, praying that God would answer my prayer to end her suffering and let her leave her broken body. Guess it isn't time yet.

I came home in a way I've not traveled for several years. Instead of immediately going south, I went through Pipestone and continued west into SD and hooked up with I-29. It was odd to go that way. I think the last time I went that direction was the day I went to Brookings to get all my stuff out of storage and move to Yankton to start my career. That was March of 1997. Odd how some of the most familar trails become less familar and yet still welcome us back. I saw a lot of changes. The largest is the wind turbines on Buffalo Ridge. They stretch as far north as the eye can see. I also saw the new high school in Pipestone (also with a wind turbine - progressive, no?) and had a flood of memories of going to one-act play contests in high school (Mom was director every year except one) and gong there for speech meets. The meet at Pipestone was the first that I placed at as a senior (okay, it was the first of the year) - and was the first where I won an actual trophy, not a ribbon. Last change was that I saw a herd of buffalo grazing near Flandreau. Awesome sight.

Going to close - bed is starting to call.

Have woken up a couple of mornings this week thinking I've heard Mom saying my name. Don't think that was what woke me this morning, but I continue to wake up early. When I did wake up this morning, I could smell eggs cooking downstairs. I went down thinking it probably meant Dad was up. When I got down there, there was no one awake.

We believed at one point that the house in Lake Wilson is haunted. There were several occassions when we'd smell burnt toast in the dining room or living room of the house. We'd check the toaster and find no evidence of it being used. One time Mom and I had went to Pipestone for groceries. We started unloading into the kitchen. When we were done, we heard the bathroom sink faucet running. Neither of us had been in there and no one had been in the house while we were gone (Mark and Dad, the only other people with keys were at a farm painting). There were a few times I was home alone, doing something in my room and I'd hear a door open and close downstairs. When we had Winter and Collosus, they'd lie on the living room floor and suddenly both focus on the exact same spot on the ceiling and track something as it moved either across the floor upstairs or across the ceiling. Freaky stuff. Mom always believed. I have kind of gone both ways, but am more in the believing mode now, though it is with a healthy dose of skepticism.

MIssing Amy and the kids last night. I was in SIoux Falls Thurs. night for a meeting for work. Tonight in Lake Wilson. I was really missing them as I went upstairs to wind down and go to sleep. On top of the fan was a tiny piece of play dough and when I turned on the t.v., it was still tuned to the Cartoon Network. Felt more connected to them.

Found "Fargo" on this morning on A&E. I remember watching it with my folks and Amy. While watching the movie a commercial came on for a product called Aleulasta (hope I spelled it right) - a drug for chemo pts. to keep their white blood cell counts elevated so they don't have to delay a treatment. Oh, the side effect of it is mild to moderate bone pain. Oh, and in rare cases it causes the spleen to rupture. Where the fuck can I sign up for this wonder drug. I appreciate the pharmaceutical companies coming out with all these drugs to treat side effects of chemo., and different drugs to use in the chemo. Yep, I'd bet cancer medication is a pretty big business (CRAZY CONSPIRACY THEORY ALERT ----- SKIP TO THE NEXT PARAGRAPH IF YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR MY RAMBLINGS) which is why there is no rush to cure cancer. There is too much money being made by running a half-dozen cycles of chemo., doing radiation, etc. The profit margain wouldn't be as high if cancer was cured and people only had to pay for the cure. Less repeat business. Hardly any of those side effects that need other meds. to treat. How many drug company CEO's have died of cancer? How many (former) presidents of the U.S? How many members of Congress (current or retired)? Maybe now that our president has been elected, he'll grow a pair of cajones and take on the drug companies - after all, he's got the money he needed out of them to get back into office. Maybe not, though. I'm sure he's gotten used to sucking on the drug companies collective dicks for all these years.

Dad's up. Said Mom was up several times in the night - 11, 3, and 7. She's sleeping now. I'm planning on leaving once hospice has been here this morning.

Walking through my parent's house tonight, I stopped in the kitchen . Mom often complained of the lack of counter space there. As I looked at the kitchen, I thought of all the meals she prepared in there, all the times she helped me make cookies for the county fair, all the late night conversations we'd have standing in that room. I think every room in the house has similar memories (okay, I didn't bake cookies in every room, but you get the idea). As I looked at the decorations in the kitchen (apple theme) I realized that the kitchen probably won'r change much - if at all - after Mom's death. The curtains, the clock, the cabinet door pulls, the switch plare... all will remain what they are now - what Mom (sometimes with Dad's help in painting, putting stuff up) did with the room.

Going up the stairs tonight, I cam across two Halloween figurines Amy and I had picked up at the first Riverboat Days we went to for Mom. Dad told me he'd missed getting them stored away when he took down the other Halloween stuff and added that he's been unable to find the Thanksgiving decorations. Mom has several storage bins with decorations for each major holiday and some other seasonal stuff. I'm going to miss Mom adding to those collections. I think (hope) that Dad will continue to rotate some of those things from season to season for awhile - he's always helped Mom do it before and has had a year now to be the primary one doing it. It'll be bittersweet to walk into the house and see Mom's decorations up. Nice in that it is still my home - still the place where I grew up. It will be a twist of the knife to know that the stuff will never be added to (trust me, I don't see Dad as being someone who'll start to hit Christmas stores for new decorations).

Mom continues to deteriorate, even though there is little left TO deteriorate. She's down to 110 lbs., 50 lbs. lighter than a month ago. She needs Dad's help to get to the bathroom. She's not had any substantial food for about 37 days, nothing other than some small sips of water in about the last 7 days. She still recognized me, but the light just isn't in her eyes. It is as though she's been dead for the last few weeks but has been forced to remain in that body. I prayed that God would take her. Dad said yesterday that Mom felt cool to the touch for much of the day. He added that the hospice nurse said Mom would likely be gone before Veteran's Day.

An aside on hospice - the nurses have been great, but there was a new one over tonight. I caught a definite odor of tobacco and she had the voice of a smoker. If your job was to take care of people dying of cancer, why in the fuck would you continue to voluntarily put a carcinogen into your body? Wouldn't seeing someone in agony and seeing their family in agony be enought to get a person to quit? More proud than ever of my parents that they were able to quit smoking (Mom first, Dad about 10 yrs. later) and do so basically through will power. Guess if I have that runing through me, I should be able to stick to an exercise routine if I put my mind to it.

Dad lost his re-election bid to the town council, 79-74. I think he's been on the council since before I was born. He helped guide the town through rebuilding after tornadoes (including the F5 in 1992), fires, and the gas explosion last winter that damaged most of the buildings in the town. Dad said he's relieved to be off and that he'd considered not running. I know he liked being on the council and doing what he could to make the town better. Maybe this is God's way of cutting him from a few of the things tying him to the town so he'll have less holding him there if he decides to move (not likely, but who knows). Looking at the roads, the parks, even the fact the elementary school closed and the town council managed to get a business in there rather than being stuck with an empty building. The guy who beat my dad is the little brother of a girl I'd dated my senior year of high school and freshman year of college. He was a little prick and I doubt things have changed much. I can recall putting him in a full nelson at one point and telling him that if he continued to screw with me, I'd get him back in the hold and apply pressure until I heard things pop. If I find out he used Mom's illness in any way against Dad in the election, I will find him and make good on that promise.

Saw the memory books Mom had been working on for Mark and me. Mine is only (and will remain) half done. She told me when she came home from the hospital a month ago that the book would likely not get done and suggested I talk with Mark about getting copies of his. I'll have to see if he'll be agreeable to this - don't think it'll be a problem. I glanced at a couple of pages and have a feeling that I'm going to miss not having the book done, but will treasure forever what she managed to finish for me.

Bush wins.

For those of you who own the "Star Wars" soundtrack, cue up the theme for Darth Vader. The Empire truly struck back. 4 more years of an idiot running the country.