"No," he corrects me. "I'm Jason, the good boy."
Friday, July 23, 2010
Jason the Good Boy
"No," he corrects me. "I'm Jason, the good boy."
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Mom's Funeral
Tam slept over last night in preparation for the funeral this morning and in the business of the morning, I noticed that she was off on her own and silent. I went over to her and hugged her.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for today,” she said. I knew how she felt.
At the Church this morning Dave and I were there when the casket arrived. We wheeled her into the Relief Society room and opened the casket. After a quick glance, Dave said these viewings are morbid and left the room as quickly as he could. Mom looks so much better than she did a week ago. They filled in her previously sunken cheeks and face. Her hair was all done up the way she always liked it and she looked peaceful.
Julie offered a prayer then we all said final goodbyes before the casket was closed. This was a tearful point for all of us. But the day wasn’t over yet.
At the funeral service itself Dave provided a life sketch, Tam a tribute, Julie a Poem, me a video of her life and Jen a talk. A few thoughts struck me during the services:
The pallbearers (Dave, me, Mark, Alex, Richard and Steve) put Mom into the hurse and the company then travelled down to the Provo cemetery for the internment. There I said a few comments and then dedicated the grave. A few thoughts here as well:
The family was told at several points that the funeral was perfect for Mom. I was certainly glad to hear that and judging by the way all of us kids were interacting with each other and feeling by the end of it, I think I agree.
Perhaps Mom thought so too.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for today,” she said. I knew how she felt.
At the Church this morning Dave and I were there when the casket arrived. We wheeled her into the Relief Society room and opened the casket. After a quick glance, Dave said these viewings are morbid and left the room as quickly as he could. Mom looks so much better than she did a week ago. They filled in her previously sunken cheeks and face. Her hair was all done up the way she always liked it and she looked peaceful.
Julie offered a prayer then we all said final goodbyes before the casket was closed. This was a tearful point for all of us. But the day wasn’t over yet.
At the funeral service itself Dave provided a life sketch, Tam a tribute, Julie a Poem, me a video of her life and Jen a talk. A few thoughts struck me during the services:
- Dave mentioned that Mom had been gone for so long that he doesn’t believe Julie and I really knew the real Mom. Before when he’s said this, I think I’ve dismissed it. But I think he’s right. This was emphasized later in the tribute Tam offered. Tam talked about a whole bunch of Mom stuff I never saw.
- Jen gave a great talk in which she made the point of illustrating through Mom’s life the danger of judging too quickly and finding the good in people. What a wonderful point! I later put some thought to this and realized that over the past week, I’ve been seeing new parts of my Mom - good things like her faith and love.
The pallbearers (Dave, me, Mark, Alex, Richard and Steve) put Mom into the hurse and the company then travelled down to the Provo cemetery for the internment. There I said a few comments and then dedicated the grave. A few thoughts here as well:
- It has been difficult to find meaning and purpose in Mom’s captivity to illness, fear and and pain. But over the last few weeks I’ve realized that all effects of the fall can help lead us to faith in Christ. If all that Mom’s gone through leads her or any of the rest of us to faith in Christ then it’s worth it.
- Christ is the true source of healing, hope, freedom and peace. He provides not only the hope of resurrection but also the hope of meaningful life
- Mom’s grave will be a holy place of peace, healing and hope.
The family was told at several points that the funeral was perfect for Mom. I was certainly glad to hear that and judging by the way all of us kids were interacting with each other and feeling by the end of it, I think I agree.
Perhaps Mom thought so too.
Friday, July 16, 2010
Mom's Passing
Early this morning I got up to feed Ben his 2:00 am bottle and texted my sisters to see how things were going with Mom. I found out that her breathing was more labored so I stayed on standby for another few hours when Tam sent another text stating that the aid found that the pulse was unperceivable, her breathing light and her color pale. I left home and arrived at Bel Aire Assisted Living around 4:00 am.
I found Mom just as described and I held her hand, touched her cheek and hair a few times while talking a bit with Tam, Mark and Julie – who had all stayed up all night long. We looked through a few more photo albums together, listened to a bit of music and then there came a point where Mom’s breathing slowed and the feeling in the room changed. Julie had just laid down to rest in a room across the hall so Mark got her. Tam sat by the bedside and held Mom’s hand, Julie sat close by while Mark and I stood, looking on.
As Tam spoke encouragement to Mom to move on, find her Mother and not worry about us, Mom’s breathing slowed. A breath… three seconds of silence. “Thank you, Mom,” I said. Another breath… five seconds of silence. Mom blinked eyes that had remained absolutely motionless in a half-open stare for the last several hours. Another breath. Then silence. We froze in our places waiting to hear another sound from Mom and when none came, it was clear that she had gone. Color left her sunken cheeks and she became completely still.
Each of us were crying in the stillness of the room. Feeling a need to pray privately (not to mention sob), I rushed out of the home and into the night. It was 5:10 am. The stars were out and the dawning sun was just starting to outline the shadowed mountains in a deep blue and purple. No cars or people were around and the night was still. I opened my heart up to Heavenly Father in prayer as I looked up to the stars.
I thanked Father for her and expressed my faith that she would be happier now. I expressed how I would miss her and how I love her. I expressed faith and hope that judgment of her might be balanced with mercy. I don’t know what happened to my Mom and what lead her down her path through mental illness but if she had any fault in it, I pleaded for mercy on her behalf. I also asked Father if he would provide comfort and healing to those of us left behind.
I finished up my prayer, collected myself and went back inside. As we waited for Jen and Dave to show up, I watched her body slowly lose color and fullness in flesh. I touched her shoulder and was amazed at how different her body looked without the spirit in it. She was gone. And my sense of things was that the place she went to must have been really wonderful because I felt the absence of her Spirit too. She had completely moved on. And I can’t say I blame her. It must have been a huge relief to have her spirit back in full function. And to be reunited with her parents and other loved ones – including perhaps the spirit of a child she lost in a miscarriage – must have been wonderful for her.
My siblings and I shared a few more tears and then Mom’s body was taken to the mortuary. At lunch this afternoon, the whole family gathered at my house for some KFC, 7-up and a discussion about funeral arrangements. We’ll have a nice service for her next week.
I’ll miss her. I love her and I look forward to getting to know the real her that has now been released from her body. It’ll be a while yet before I can do this but at least she’s herself again and that’s one step closer to coming to know her.
I found Mom just as described and I held her hand, touched her cheek and hair a few times while talking a bit with Tam, Mark and Julie – who had all stayed up all night long. We looked through a few more photo albums together, listened to a bit of music and then there came a point where Mom’s breathing slowed and the feeling in the room changed. Julie had just laid down to rest in a room across the hall so Mark got her. Tam sat by the bedside and held Mom’s hand, Julie sat close by while Mark and I stood, looking on.
As Tam spoke encouragement to Mom to move on, find her Mother and not worry about us, Mom’s breathing slowed. A breath… three seconds of silence. “Thank you, Mom,” I said. Another breath… five seconds of silence. Mom blinked eyes that had remained absolutely motionless in a half-open stare for the last several hours. Another breath. Then silence. We froze in our places waiting to hear another sound from Mom and when none came, it was clear that she had gone. Color left her sunken cheeks and she became completely still.
Each of us were crying in the stillness of the room. Feeling a need to pray privately (not to mention sob), I rushed out of the home and into the night. It was 5:10 am. The stars were out and the dawning sun was just starting to outline the shadowed mountains in a deep blue and purple. No cars or people were around and the night was still. I opened my heart up to Heavenly Father in prayer as I looked up to the stars.
I thanked Father for her and expressed my faith that she would be happier now. I expressed how I would miss her and how I love her. I expressed faith and hope that judgment of her might be balanced with mercy. I don’t know what happened to my Mom and what lead her down her path through mental illness but if she had any fault in it, I pleaded for mercy on her behalf. I also asked Father if he would provide comfort and healing to those of us left behind.
I finished up my prayer, collected myself and went back inside. As we waited for Jen and Dave to show up, I watched her body slowly lose color and fullness in flesh. I touched her shoulder and was amazed at how different her body looked without the spirit in it. She was gone. And my sense of things was that the place she went to must have been really wonderful because I felt the absence of her Spirit too. She had completely moved on. And I can’t say I blame her. It must have been a huge relief to have her spirit back in full function. And to be reunited with her parents and other loved ones – including perhaps the spirit of a child she lost in a miscarriage – must have been wonderful for her.
My siblings and I shared a few more tears and then Mom’s body was taken to the mortuary. At lunch this afternoon, the whole family gathered at my house for some KFC, 7-up and a discussion about funeral arrangements. We’ll have a nice service for her next week.
I’ll miss her. I love her and I look forward to getting to know the real her that has now been released from her body. It’ll be a while yet before I can do this but at least she’s herself again and that’s one step closer to coming to know her.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Effects of a Fall
Driving home from the emergency room tonight at 12:30, my heart and mind was brimming with a conflicting arrangement of emotions and thoughts. Three hours earlier I received a call from Aunt Mary, who, in the absence of Dave and Jen who are camping, authorized the assisted living home to take Mom to the hospital. Mom had a fall a few days ago and the pain resulting from the fall had intensified.
When I arrived at the hospital, Ron and Mary were at her side. I grabbed Mom by the hand as I inspected her injuries. She had a few cuts on her face and a bandaged elbow. I was later shown an x-ray and the bruising on her side. She had broken her pelvis but only with a hairline fracture. Still she was hurting. Typically when she speaks, it’s usually in response to some stimulus – someone asking her a question, something she hears, etc. But tonight, she would twist gingerly in her bed, wince with pain and mutter, “It hurts. It hurts.” without prompting.
Later that evening when she was lifted from the hospital bed to the stretcher for transportation back to Bel Aire Assisted Living, she sat up in fear reaching out for me, calling after me with a pleading of “Where are they taking me?” I stayed by her side in the ambulance to try to calm her fears.
Before they left the emergency room earlier this evening, Ron and I were able to administer a blessing to Mom. I remember two parts of this blessing. One was that despite the ailments of her mind and body, she would know of her family’s love. The second was that she would be made comfortable.
After tucking her into bed at Bel Aire, I began my drive home and opened a prayer in which I asked Heavenly Father again why Mom has to experience such pain, fear and captivity. I was reminded of the blessing I administered in Jesus’ name earlier. Through the merits of the atonement, all negative baggage from this life can be lifted. All of this pain, fear and captivity that Mom is experiencing is a result of the fall and Father’s children need a way to overcome those effects. I noticed a billboard for a company specializing in pain treatment and realized that the only effective treatment is the atonement of Jesus Christ.
The answer to this prayer is not likely something I’ll get completely in this life. But Heavenly Father was merciful to me tonight in allowing me to not only receive but to administer in a potion of the answer to that prayer. Through the Priesthood and power offered through faith in Jesus Christ, pain, fear and captivity can be removed. So, some of the purpose of these things is to lead us to Christ.
I plan to drop by to visit her again after work tomorrow (technically today) and I hope to see evidence of Heavenly Father’s work in progress - reducing the effect of both types of falls.
When I arrived at the hospital, Ron and Mary were at her side. I grabbed Mom by the hand as I inspected her injuries. She had a few cuts on her face and a bandaged elbow. I was later shown an x-ray and the bruising on her side. She had broken her pelvis but only with a hairline fracture. Still she was hurting. Typically when she speaks, it’s usually in response to some stimulus – someone asking her a question, something she hears, etc. But tonight, she would twist gingerly in her bed, wince with pain and mutter, “It hurts. It hurts.” without prompting.
Later that evening when she was lifted from the hospital bed to the stretcher for transportation back to Bel Aire Assisted Living, she sat up in fear reaching out for me, calling after me with a pleading of “Where are they taking me?” I stayed by her side in the ambulance to try to calm her fears.
Before they left the emergency room earlier this evening, Ron and I were able to administer a blessing to Mom. I remember two parts of this blessing. One was that despite the ailments of her mind and body, she would know of her family’s love. The second was that she would be made comfortable.
After tucking her into bed at Bel Aire, I began my drive home and opened a prayer in which I asked Heavenly Father again why Mom has to experience such pain, fear and captivity. I was reminded of the blessing I administered in Jesus’ name earlier. Through the merits of the atonement, all negative baggage from this life can be lifted. All of this pain, fear and captivity that Mom is experiencing is a result of the fall and Father’s children need a way to overcome those effects. I noticed a billboard for a company specializing in pain treatment and realized that the only effective treatment is the atonement of Jesus Christ.
The answer to this prayer is not likely something I’ll get completely in this life. But Heavenly Father was merciful to me tonight in allowing me to not only receive but to administer in a potion of the answer to that prayer. Through the Priesthood and power offered through faith in Jesus Christ, pain, fear and captivity can be removed. So, some of the purpose of these things is to lead us to Christ.
I plan to drop by to visit her again after work tomorrow (technically today) and I hope to see evidence of Heavenly Father’s work in progress - reducing the effect of both types of falls.
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