Pain, grief, anguish, relief
On the morning of October 22nd, 2007 life was going on as usual. I was at work, talking with co-workers, greeting my students, and getting ready for a fun filled day of first grade learning. Children were going about their morning routine while I was checking their folders, when my phone rang. An eerie intuitiveness came over me and I just knew. I franticly, anxiously went through my things to find my cell phone. I did not reach it in time. I saw the caller id: Mother. I called my step-dad, Lonny, back right away. When he answered he simply said “Your mother passed away at 8:15.” That was it. This was the call that I had been anticipating and dreading for 6 months. While the world was going on as usual, my mother was fighting for her last breath. Just a few minutes earlier my sister had a chance to tell her good bye and after Lonny put her on the bus, he came back to the house to find my mother struggling more than usual. She told him it was getting difficult to breathe. At first he did not know what was going on, but he soon understood the intensity of the moment. He lay in bed with her and held her. He told her that he loved her. She tried to reply, but all she could say was “I….I….I...” and then stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating. The fight was over. Lonny then wrapped her in her favorite quilt that eventually would hang over her casket. When her body was taken from the house, their two dogs instinctively, protectively, loyally walked one on each side of her to the hearse. Later that afternoon Lonny picked up my sister, Nicole, from school. Lonny, Mr. Alcorn (her teacher) and Jennifer (the hospice social worker) sat her down to convey to her the devastating news. She was initially upset but seemed to handle it the best way she knew how. When I called her later that evening she told me “My mom died. She’s in heaven now.” I don’t exactly remember what I did, said or thought that day. I know my boss wisely, compassionately sent me home. A friend came to stay with me. I drove to Florida the next day to be with my family. The rest of the week was filled with preparing for the service. Neither Lonny nor I ever had to handle funeral arrangements before….Talking to the minister, handling the order of the service, choosing songs and bible verses, picking out what my mom would wear (even though it was a closed casket), choosing the right urn, choosing the casket she will be cremated in, writing an obituary…all things that one would not be contemplating on an ordinary day. There was so much to think about, so many questions. I felt so vulnerable. The service was Saturday, October 27th, at 2:00pm. Lonny had determined to use the hospice minister to conduct the service, as there were so many others who wanted to officiate the funeral. The service was succinct but respectable as it was intended. At the end of the service the minister directed the family to leave first. I had not noticed until that moment that the modest chapel was filled to its capacity, with standing room only. As I stood up and turned around, through tears in my eyes it was only then I realized what my mom’s life meant to so many other people, how many lives she had touched. I cannot begin to tell you all the acts of kindness my family and I have received since her diagnosis to her death. I do not know how to begin to repay people for their benevolence. But I do know this: My mom, Marcia Tucker, was a content, selfless, determined, creative, talented woman who will always remain in the hearts of her family and friends.
Thank you for all your prayers and support through this agonizing journey.
On the morning of October 22nd, 2007 life was going on as usual. I was at work, talking with co-workers, greeting my students, and getting ready for a fun filled day of first grade learning. Children were going about their morning routine while I was checking their folders, when my phone rang. An eerie intuitiveness came over me and I just knew. I franticly, anxiously went through my things to find my cell phone. I did not reach it in time. I saw the caller id: Mother. I called my step-dad, Lonny, back right away. When he answered he simply said “Your mother passed away at 8:15.” That was it. This was the call that I had been anticipating and dreading for 6 months. While the world was going on as usual, my mother was fighting for her last breath. Just a few minutes earlier my sister had a chance to tell her good bye and after Lonny put her on the bus, he came back to the house to find my mother struggling more than usual. She told him it was getting difficult to breathe. At first he did not know what was going on, but he soon understood the intensity of the moment. He lay in bed with her and held her. He told her that he loved her. She tried to reply, but all she could say was “I….I….I...” and then stopped breathing. Her heart stopped beating. The fight was over. Lonny then wrapped her in her favorite quilt that eventually would hang over her casket. When her body was taken from the house, their two dogs instinctively, protectively, loyally walked one on each side of her to the hearse. Later that afternoon Lonny picked up my sister, Nicole, from school. Lonny, Mr. Alcorn (her teacher) and Jennifer (the hospice social worker) sat her down to convey to her the devastating news. She was initially upset but seemed to handle it the best way she knew how. When I called her later that evening she told me “My mom died. She’s in heaven now.” I don’t exactly remember what I did, said or thought that day. I know my boss wisely, compassionately sent me home. A friend came to stay with me. I drove to Florida the next day to be with my family. The rest of the week was filled with preparing for the service. Neither Lonny nor I ever had to handle funeral arrangements before….Talking to the minister, handling the order of the service, choosing songs and bible verses, picking out what my mom would wear (even though it was a closed casket), choosing the right urn, choosing the casket she will be cremated in, writing an obituary…all things that one would not be contemplating on an ordinary day. There was so much to think about, so many questions. I felt so vulnerable. The service was Saturday, October 27th, at 2:00pm. Lonny had determined to use the hospice minister to conduct the service, as there were so many others who wanted to officiate the funeral. The service was succinct but respectable as it was intended. At the end of the service the minister directed the family to leave first. I had not noticed until that moment that the modest chapel was filled to its capacity, with standing room only. As I stood up and turned around, through tears in my eyes it was only then I realized what my mom’s life meant to so many other people, how many lives she had touched. I cannot begin to tell you all the acts of kindness my family and I have received since her diagnosis to her death. I do not know how to begin to repay people for their benevolence. But I do know this: My mom, Marcia Tucker, was a content, selfless, determined, creative, talented woman who will always remain in the hearts of her family and friends.
Thank you for all your prayers and support through this agonizing journey.
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