Boy, I have been putting this off. I didn’t want to write about it. I started and stopped, trying to find the right approach. But now, I can’t worry if I have it down perfectly.
I believe that the readers who follow this blog will understand and appreciate that this is what I mean by Life-Change and yes, Compost. You see, my mother-in-law is in the active process of dying now.
My mother-in-law, Carmela Troccolo, not only taught me everything I know about plants and gardening, she is now teaching me how to die with extraordinary class and grace.
Let me give you a short back story.
In the past three years, several people who were very dear to me died. First came my sweet Jenny, who died of Ovarian Cancer at a young age. Jenny was like a daughter to me: cousin/best friend/daughter/sister. Last July, my sister Jill died. That broke my heart, and still does. (Stories of both Jenny and Jill can be found in the archive of this blog.)
Two weeks ago, a close friend in California died from liver cancer and we happened to be with him the day before, in the hospital, discussing end-of-life pain control with the family. It was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever been a part of. A week later, mom had a massive heart attack at 97 years old. She has lived a full life and is ready to die.
However, this is what I have noticed. Those people who told someone what they wanted when they die have had an easier time of it. And—this is where it gets personal—those people who told someone how they wanted to be treated close to death make it far easier on the rest of us.
I could go on and on about this because I’ve been on the side of the family that didn’t have any instructions to go by. Let me tell you, it’s hell. Please read this article that recently appeared in the NYT and take it to heart. POLST forms exist in almost every state now and you can put the stickers on your driver’s license, on the refrigerator, on your forehead, (if you are as passionate about NOT dying in a hospital ICU as I am.) The POLST (Physicians Orders for Life Sustaining Treatment) originated in Oregon, a state that is far ahead of the rest of the nation in patient’s rights. The form is more important than a Health Care Power of Attorney because it addresses what emergency personnel must do—by law—if they should be called upon to help you in an emergency. It lets them off the hook if you have specified “comfort care” only if your chances of survival in any meaningful way are poor. How? A state-wide database that contains your wishes. They will stabilize you, but NOT automatically hook you up to machines.
I’m getting off my soapbox now. I’ve just seen too much lately. But what is happening with our mother is far different. She told everyone precisely what she wanted. Mom is a gardener. Gardeners know that life is born and dies. Gardeners know about spring and they know about autumn to winter.
Last week, I was holding mom and rubbing her back as we sat on the side of the bed. She put her head on my shoulder and said: “Susie, it is hard work to die.” I said: “Doesn’t seem fair does it mom, hard work to be born, hard work to die.” Then she brightened. “Susie, when you are Patrick come—a long time from now—I’ll show you the ropes!”
Whatever your beliefs, wherever you think we go when we die, may you be lucky enough to have someone like Carmela Theresa Panozzo Troccolo show you the ropes.
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Note from Susie: Friends, I don’t know what the next week or so will bring. Patrick and I are taking mom back to Connecticut to be buried next to her husband. I may not be able to respond to your comments for awhile, but I surely will in time. Please remember that if you are commenting for the first time, I need to approve it once, but only the first time. Thank you.
Oceans of caring are flooding across cyber space to you and yours.
Thank you Soosie. I appreciate those oceans of caring very much. I see your comments around now and again on those sites of our friends from Vision & Verb, and I realize we made a strong connection.
Dearest Susie, so much on your heart to bear and process right now. It’s a special spirit filled time for sure, an opportunity to really understand what matters and what is real.
Please give Carmela a gentle kiss from me, tell her that she has been always an example in my eyes for taking excellent good care of her body, heart and mind, and just for being herself, so caring, honest, direct. I would not mind to have her showing me the ropes when my time comes, I would feel secure, even grounded. Much love and light to all of you and even more.
Dear one, I am so glad to hear from you. You and Carm had a good friendship didn’t you? I can give her a kiss, but she is no longer “there”, if you know what I mean. She hasn’t had food or water for five or six days and it only a matter of time now. What a strong body she has. But in the end, it was a massive heart attack that left her without the means to recover. If there was anyway we could buy her more time, we would. But it would be a life in and out of the ICU and mom didn’t want that. A friend suggested I spend the day in the garden, planting, to honor her. So I did that that yesterday. It was right to be outside in the garden she loved. I also went through early photos of the time when we moved mom from Connecticut to Portland, and how she taught me everything she had learned in the greenhouses over many decades. For me, the garden will be the place where she lives on.
I am so glad you have such wonderful memories to hold on to. Garden time is such a special thing to have shared. My thoughts are with you.
Thanks Maery Rose. I think you’re right. Working side by side in a garden makes for some special friendships. And a lot of laughing-:)
Susie I am so soulfully sorry for your mother-in-law’s illness and the pain the family is feeling…she seems an amazing lady who has lived such a rich, full life…I wish you, her and your family peace, solace and much love…sending soothing hugs your way my friend. We are trying to deal with all this with my mom and her sister 83 and 93…they live in AZ but the family plot is in Philadelphia…..it makes it a long process. Know you are all in my thoughts and prayers.
Hi dear Donna, Thank you so much for your wishes of love and kindness. Many families live so far apart in these days. For example, Patrick’s sister, who lives in Washington D.C., was working in Paris when she flew here to help out. It sounds like you will have a lot on your hands when your mom and/or sister end their time on this earth. I had no idea how challenging it can be, getting two funeral companies on two coasts to work together! The costs also are significant. Many of us in a younger generation might choose to do things differently, but for mom going back to Connecticut to be buried, was her last wish. I wish you well managing those challenges when they come.
Nothing wise or soothing to say – you’ve been through this so many times. Just know that more hearts than you will probably ever know are no doubt opening wide to send loving and caring thoughts to you all.
Hi Barbara, just writing in is kind and I appreciate it. You are right, I’ve been through this so many times. (“And I wish it would stop!”–said a voice in my head.) Even though mom is 97, she was very vibrant up until the end, the last six months I’d say. So, we’ve been lucky for sure. Thank you for for sending such a loving wish.
Death is very much on my mind right now as we lost someone very important to our family, suddenly and too soon. Making our wishes known helps the ones left behind immeasurably. It is never too early to have an end of life plan. I’ve seen four children and a husband flounder this week. Leaving family and friends confident in our wishes is the last kindness we can give.
Hi Susan, I’m really glad you wrote what you did. I was hoping people would find some meaning in that part of the post, the part about leaving your end-of-life wishes known. I understand why people put it off, but if everyone could see–first hand, as you are–the things that can happen when you don’t do it, well, I think more people would take the time and get it down on paper. That’s why I wrote about POLST, and shared the NYT article, because it makes is so clear how powerful that piece of paper is if you can’t speak for yourself. If you’ve watched four children and a husband flounder with “not knowing” this week, then you know exactly what I mean. Your last sentence is perfect. I’m sorry for the loss you are experiencing in your family at this time, especially someone gone too soon.
I’m sorry you’ve had to go through this but how wonderful to have been with her at the end and to have been able to do what she wanted. Sending lots of love your way.
I feel it Tammy–thank you. I spent the evening on the porch swing watching the sunset and thinking just that…we were able to give her a peaceful end. Godspeed Mom.
Oh Susan, you have had to deal with so much loss in such a short space of time, I am so sorry. Your mil sounds rather wonderful, and I completely agree, making one’s wishes known helps everybody. My sil has experienced a succession of losses, including her younger brother, suddenly, and is currently watching her Dad battle the cancer that will eventually finish him off. It has provoked much discussion between us all about funeral arrangements, organ donation, wills, and end of life care. These things shouldn’t be taboo, the people who refuse to confront such issues, no doubt because they fear their own mortality, store up a pile of added grief and heartache for those closest to them, I have seen it first hand.
Good for you, taking the time to talk about this in the middle of your grief. I hope you continue to be inspired by your mil for many years to come, an excellent form of immortality.
I really appreciate your note Janet. When I get a note like this, I wish I could sit in your garden with a cup of tea and talk. You are so right: these subjects should not be taboo. They are an important part of a good life, planning for a good death, at least to the extent that anybody can plan such things. And that is my experience too, it is because people fear their own mortality. But why not look it in the eye? It makes every day more precious. We had one woman at mom’s apartment building barge into the apartment (even as my husband was saying that we were not receiving visitors at this time) and just stand at mom’s door wailing. Now that didn’t help matters. And I expect she was wailing for herself. I will be inspired by my mil for the rest of my life; she was a great lady.
I think we’d need more than one cup of tea! But I’d enjoy that too.
Dear Susie: My thoughts and prayers go with you among many others at this point in your journey. Thank you for the joy, thoughtfulness, and information in this post. Peace and hugs.
Thanks so much Beth, I appreciate hearing that the information was helpful too. It’s tough to write about subjects such as this without putting everybody to sleep, but the timing was just something I couldn’t ignore.
I’ll take your good wishes wish me Beth. Susie
Oh Susie….what a wonderful tribute and heartfelt piece. I love Carmela. I did not know her middle name was Theresa. I feel honored to share her name.
Carm really loved you too Theresa. You know, I didn’t even think to tell you that Theresa was her middle name, until we were working on her obit, it didn’t come to me. Thank you for calling and being here. You are a dear friend.
“Gardeners know that life is born and dies. Gardeners know about spring and they know about autumn to winter.” I do love how you wrote this, Susie, making the parallel to gardening. It makes so much sense, doesn’t it…understanding the seasons of life and earth as though they were so “matter of fact.” I suppose if we were like other cultures (who display their coffin choices in shop windows on the street!) we would be more in tune with this inevitable part of living that we in the West almost never want to talk about…dying. (sigh)
Thank you for putting this out there for the rest of us. I know these are hard days for you, even though you know Mom lived a good and full life. What a way to go…at 97!
Yes, we are strangely out of touch with death in the west, but I think it is because we are a culture obsessed with youth. I think it may be changing; I hope so. It wasn’t until I became a gardener that it became so clear to me—-these seasons of life. I’m doing okay given the circumstances. I know mom lived a full and mostly happy life. For Paddy and me, it is the cumulative effects of a lot of loss lately. But we have great friends and we have each other. We are holding on tight. I really appreciate your thoughts Ginnie. Hold on to your sweetie tight. (I know you do.)
Oh friend. Oh sweet Susie.
Big tenderness to you as you walk through these sacred days.
It’s a large slice of wisdom you’re serving up over here
and I thank you.
-Jennifer
Jennifer, your words brought tears and they didn’t stop for awhile. Thank you for giving me courage to write about things like this. If I didn’t hear something from someone like you, I wouldn’t know. I just wouldn’t know if I could continue to tell my truth. Bless you for your kindness across the miles. I feel it and hold it dear.
As one who has buried a mother, daughter, and in-laws, I understand. Wishing you strength and peace.
Welcome to this place Tina. It is very good for me to remember that everyone has suffered loss and gone on. Do you think we become more compassionate in the world around us Tina? I hope so. I really hope there is gold to be spun from tears. I can’t imagine burying a daughter, although my Jenny was like a daughter. I’m so sorry.
Susie, this is a poem you are familiar with, I feel it is for both the living and dying, so comforting. ♡
From John O’Donohue.
A Blessing
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
God this is beautiful. Thank you dear friend for taking the time to put these words here. I know much of John O’Donohue, but I didn’t know this. Those last lines “and so may a slow wind work these words of love around you, an invisible cloak to mind your life.” Lea taught me to memorize those words that no one could ever take away…that would bring peace in any quiet moment. I’ll take them with me tomorrow when I go to see mom for the last time. Paddy didn’t want me to remember her like she is now, but I want to go. So I can and will deliver that kiss for you.
Hi Susan. Your mom is beautiful and the brightest flower in the whole garden. It’s so difficult saying goodbye to our mom even though they are ready to go. I love your mom’s wise words and like you, I’ll have my mom to show me the strings when my time comes.
Sending love and prayers your way.
Hugs,
JB
Welcome Julia, I so appreciate the comment and your kind words. Thank you. I hope you will visit again. If you subscribe to this site, you can download my free ebook next month on change, love and aging well. It’s easy to do. May you be well and happy, thank you for the love and prayers. Susan
Dear Susie,
Carmela may be showing you the ropes, but it takes wisdom to know that. To realize that. To plan for that. And sometimes even with the best planning and intent there is still too much suffering to bear. And sometimes there is no planning only incongruous intent and disarray. Life and death is full of twists and curves and growth and beauty and hardship. A humus rich garden can grow hearty tangles of weeds but still produce that beautiful flower. I’ve gotten to were i let the dandelions grow for the bitter leaves and hearty flower buds, but most are happily left for the hungry bees and sailing seeds. I’m sorry I never met Carmela, but I feel like i know her through Patrick, and if she had anything to do with him (smile) she is something special. And i wish i could have been a bug on the nasturtium flower listening to you and Carmela talk in the garden. Maybe you’ll share with me sometime some of the gardening advice you learned from her? Come to think of it, maybe you already have..
She’ll visit you both in the garden. That i know…
I love you guys. Jeff
Hi Jeff, this really meant a lot to me. You and sister have those writing genes–like Aunt Lou. As I write this today, mom has gone nine days without food or water (just all the things you do in a natural dying process like keeping people’s mouth moist), and we have changed airline reservations twice because we clearly can’t “plan” her dying. (Patrick is there reading to her today, as he does everyday.) I love that you feed the hungry bees and sailing seeds. I love that your garden always has something delicious to pull out from the weeds. And how I wish you could have met Carmela. Jenny loved her. One thing I can say about her (which clearly Jenny picked up on) is that she was the least judgmental person I have ever known. That is something right up there, you know? I’ve read what you’ve written here several times. I know that you know loss too by the reading of it. Life is sure full of twists and turns. All we can do is be present to it—easier said than done. I love you Jeff, Paddy does too, so much. I hope we see you soon. Love, Sus
So lovingly written. So sorry for the loss of dear ones. The hardest thing in life. Sending light to you and yours.
Thank you, Elena, for visiting my site. I so appreciate your comment. It is one of the hardest things in life for sure. I have a new motto: Love everybody you still have left like crazy. And that’s what I’m doing-:)
Here it is a Living Will. On my list, somewhere.
Your Christmas picture reminds me of my mother. I have a niece with a sense of fun who arrived one Christmas wearing red reindeer antlers. Never seen my mother’s face light up with such delight! And she got a chance to try them on. Still have a picture.
Hi Diana—yes, we having Living Wills too. This POLST form is a little different in that it prevents emergency workers from ever STARTING all the tubes and aggressive treatments in the first place. It’s really very novel, because EMTs can stabilize you, but are “let off the hook” legally, by your directive. Once all those heroics begin, they are very tough to stop. I’m glad the photo reminded you of your mother! That delighted me. The paper crown she is wearing is one that is part of the English tradition of “Christmas Crackers.” They are pull-out toys wrapped in a festive and very pretty package and when you pull them apart on Christmas Eve, they pop loudly, (hence the “cracker”), there are little toys and *always*, a paper crown. If you ever watch British movies, for example “Brigit Jones”, you’ll see Brigit and her dad alone—-on Christmas night—wearing jammies and those silly paper crowns. They are iconic-:) Thanks so much for coming by. I really enjoyed your post this week.
My mother is from London, so our Christmas includes crackers, and crowns.
Reindeer not so much. But someone is farming reindeer in the Karoo, so they say.
I’m only coming back to this now. How very sad I am so sorry for you and Paddy. However every word you say is true. I sat with my Father when he died at home and it gave us all, and him such consolation. This was his wish, and mine……great words of wisdom Susie…..I feel this deep in my body…..there is a right time….x
Thank you my friend…I always appreciate it when you write in. And to do it on the road too, I’m honored and pleased. I’m glad this resonated with you, I felt it was a slightly risky post, because many don’t want to look at death. But we can do it. And we can do it with great love. As you did with your own Father. Blessings and happiness, Catherine.
I’m not one for lots of words but you have my condolences. I will keep your family in my prayers.
Thanks to you Bettyl. I do appreciate your kind words. Certainly wish I could visit your beautiful country someday. (I know you started out here, but now you are a true New Zealander I bet!)
My dear Susan, what you have done here, opening this door,is such a valuable act. It is true: here in the West, we seal ourselves off from a vital part of healing.How we enter the world and how we leave are part of the Perfect Plan, in which we are the participants. This blog demonstrates how much we need to look at it, talk about it, participate in the long postponed discussion.I so appreciate this sharing of your loved one. Her wisdom is staggering. Every seed she planted blossoms. Her harvest blessed.Way out here in the ether you see in all these words that she is still vibrantly alive and with us. I’ll take your advice and find POLST. My only child will need it. What a lovely, thoughtful last gift each of us can provide for those who love us. Thank you for risking.
Dear Barbarann, I woke up early this morning to find your comment waiting to be approved on the blog. I was so moved by all your have written here, and I thank you so much for it. You are right: I did hope to open a door into this “vital part of healing.” You express it so well. I do think of Mom every time I think of the garden, of the cycle of life as expressed in the garden, and in the many things she taught me about life. I really really appreciate that you’ve taken the time to write in, for all of us….and for me especially. Thank you. I hope you’ll stop by again.