Thomas M.--1928-2012

An important chapter has now drawn to a close.  It was written in anguish and caring, and in a strange way was predicted by the movies......

My father died on a quiet Saturday morning yesterday, January 14, 2012, one day after being released from the hospital to hospice care.

Not that it matters now, but he expired from the effects an as-yet-unknown cancer.  Brain tumors appeared to be the cause of his continued falls, and disorientation.  Until then there were no apparent symptoms.

He declined rapidly, in spite of a team of medical professionals, who sometimes seemed intent on thwarting my efforts to advocate for his recovery.  He passed peacefully.

My mother, who has struggled against her own afflictions of the mind and emotion, was released from the same hospital on the same Friday, and moved into the same nursing care facility on the same day as my father.  On the same floor.  We tried very hard to ensure that they would have some time together during his final weeks.

They had one day.

When the call came in, I felt anxiety drain out of my body through the floor.  There was so much we had to do for them since Thanksgiving, and now there is so much more to be done.  One just snaps to.

Emotions came in intermittent bursts throughout the day.

Mark and I, and my sister and  her husband, rallied to my mother's side to catch the fallout of....what, we could not easily predict.  Confusion? Hysteria? Resignation? Relapse?  She had come through her treatments so well....

Fortunately, amid some uncertainty, and the normal show of grief, my mom did fine.  She was a little confused, and mistook my father's death for that of her own father 10 years ago.  No matter.  She had her way of dealing with it, and it kept her strong, and pleasant.

The staff of her nursing facility was compassionate and low-key.

Mark could not have been a better support... He did what I needed, and stayed next to me all the time.

Our friends showed themselves to be loyal and worthy of our best esteem. Phone calls, emails, and visits with food, and never intrusive, but always caring.  Thanks to them all.

I have not blogged here for a while.  The overwhelming emotion of the last few weeks, and the drain on normal energy levels, kept me from committing to this effort.  Many nights, while feeling like I had to be in at least five different places at the same time (the hospital, the nursing home, my parent's house for cleanup, the attorney's office, my own job, etc.),  I hated myself for neglecting my writing. 

A strange calm has possessed me and Mark and our little household. 

I feel like writing again.

I want to read, and follow the zany antics of the Hollywood Foreign Press.  Tomorrow will be busy and anxiety-producing.  For tonight, little would please me more than to see Woody and "Paris" receive an accolade.

**************

In a strange way, the movies of 2011 pay subtle tribute to our family's loss.  "The Artist" spans a few years beginning in 1928, the year my father was born.  In "Hugo", the young central character adjusts to the loss of his father.  In "Beginners", another character, closer to my age and experience, looks back on the weeks leading up to his father's death.  "The Descendants" observes a family whose mother, while not deceased, is no longer present for them.  "My Week With Marilyn" recreates the atmosphere of the mid 1950's, when my parents were married.  And "Tree of Life" looks at an average suburban family, and attempts to depict not only the origins of that life, but a speculation on their afterlife.

I am eager to return to the blogosphere, once the dust settles.....