Feathers
and Daisies one would assume, is about
feathers and daisies. It is not. (I'm not that kind of crafty - and assuming gets you... well you know). The name pays homage to my parents, Feathers
for my father, and Daisies for my mom. (...don't worry not all my posts will be like this. I just want you to know a bit about the name...) This was a painful thing to write.)
Daisy, my husfriend, Baboo nicknamed her that; years
ago when my father was hospitalized and he drove her to see him. He
picked her up and told her she had to ride in the back…in jest of course. From then on she called Baboo; “Hoke”, and we
all called her “Daisy”. Even my Dad
would call her Daisy on occasion when he would talk to me about her. (see; the nickname thing even happened to my
mom! good grief!)
(the pic above is Daisy in the wig... She looked great in it...)
Losing Daisy was a long slow horribly painful journey. It started back somewhere around 2004 if my
memory serves me correctly. She found a
small lump on the exterior of her breast/chest area. She never said anything to anyone until it
was golf ball size. She thought it was a
boil and went to go get it lanced. It
was immediately apparent to the Doctor it was not. The very next day she went to a surgeon. They scheduled biopsy, surgery, chemo,
radiation… it was LIVING HELL. LIVING
HELL. (Cancer delivers a special kind of hell for the onlookers and outsiders, the ones that sit on the sidelines suffer too but you knew that.) I watched her lose her hair,
eyebrows, and eyelashes. To a retired
beautician that was the worst. I watched
her lose her breast. I watched as my Dad
doted on her every day, hours on end. He
spent countless hours changing bandages, cleaning drainage tubes, washing her,
taking her to doctor’s appointments, keeping up with the cooking and the
cleaning as best he could. I watched him age about 10 years in one alone!
I would watch
as she would try to eat, but the sores in her mouth made it damn near
impossible, her taste buds were so fried everything tasted like metal. Everything even her favorite thing (and mine too)…
Beer! (we've spent many a hour bullshitting and fixing the worlds problems over a couple of beers on the back porch.!)
I watched her waste away right before my very eyes. From the moment she lost her hair, and then
eventually her breast I knew deep down I was losing her forever. My half-sister and I took her to get a wig
before she lost all her hair so she could try to keep up appearances, because
my mother never went anywhere without her hair “did”… she liked the wig, but
would very rarely wear it. We bought her
a “fake boob” as mom would call it… she tried to wear it. She said it bothered the thin skin at the
mastectomy site, so there went that, back in the box.
She eventually got her hair back, gained weight, started to eat, even drive again (that was about 2006 ish or so) But slowly over time when I went over there, which at that point was about once a week, I was noticing not only was she depressed she was very angry all the time, and frail. Very negative. So not like Mom. She was generally always the “look on the bright side…where’s your faith?” type… Now she wasn’t. I tried my best to get her to tell her doctors about her moods, to no avail.
She eventually got her hair back, gained weight, started to eat, even drive again (that was about 2006 ish or so) But slowly over time when I went over there, which at that point was about once a week, I was noticing not only was she depressed she was very angry all the time, and frail. Very negative. So not like Mom. She was generally always the “look on the bright side…where’s your faith?” type… Now she wasn’t. I tried my best to get her to tell her doctors about her moods, to no avail.
She was more depressed, drinking, falling (secretly smoking... grrr) … I thought she was
having mini-strokes…In about 2010 after a trip in an ambulance because she
couldn’t breathe … they had to drain a pocket of fluid from her back on the
exterior of her lung. The results were devastating!
The cancer came back in her lungs. I was completely and
utterly shocked. Mom and Dad had a
conversation unbeknownst to me at the time; until she got home; and she told me that they decided
that neither one of them could go thru the chemo thing again. It was over.
She was just going to live until "it" took her. THE HARDEST THING I EVER HAD TO HEAR. And I'm sure that was the HARDEST DECISION THEY EVER HAD TO MAKE, and what courage that showed! But somehow in my mind I knew it was
coming. I think everyone that hears the
word Cancer, subliminally prepares for the worst. It sucked. It sucked the life out of mom (literally), my
dad, me, the husfriend/Baboo, and the kids too for the next year.
The day we had to call hospice in and they brought in the
oxygen, the morphine, and host of other drugs… I lost it.
I literally lost it. Not in front of them. I don’t
remember much of it. That whole year is
a blur. Moments I remember; showering her, doing the laundry for them, going over to let dad have some 'dad" time out and away... the first time I gave her morphine, and of course the "waiting to be pushed off a cliff" kind feeling every day. I remember those moments.
Near the end, I remember Baboo going over one to the house. He peeked in her room, and everyone (the "halfs" - 2 of her 3 kids from her first marriage) she hadn't spoken or opened her eyes in days...
I told her kinda in a soft voice: Momma..."Hoke is here"
She turned her head looked at him and said clear as a bell:
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?"
I laughed my ass off ! (Still brings a smile to my face)
Where she mustered that strength from after days of being "out of it" I just don't know!?!
I remember sleeping over there, taking turns with Dad and Deedub, staying up with her, listening to her breathe. Reading and/or crying the 23rd psalm the night to her the night before she died, putting the "happy death cross" and her rosary in her hands trying to remember the prayers to the rosary... moments, like flashes of a stop frame motion picture of pain still to this day. Until the day she died.
July 31 2011.
Their 44th wedding anniversary.
(10-7-1936 to 7-31-2011).
(The pic above is Daisy in her late teens so about the 1950's)
I remember getting a call from DeeDub that she was going quick... I had taken a break to go home for a bit. Damn it all to hell i wish i never did. I missed being there for her, with her to see her off! By the time I traveled the 5 or less miles at well over every speed limit posted... she was gone. She was gone. Her pain was over. Our pain of watching her suffer was over, but a new kind of pain had begun. The pain of her absence. It's still with me to this day. She left a hole in my soul that
no one - anywhere - will ever, never be able to fill.
She taught me as much during life as she did during her illness and even since she passed on. It's amazing the lessons that come from beyond this world (You've just got to listen for them).
Love you Momma (Daisy) ! xxxooo <3
So there you have the "Daisies" portion of the name of my blog. The "Feathers" portion will come at a later date, when I can muster the strength to put into words those 15 days of gut wrenching pain.
no one - anywhere - will ever, never be able to fill.
She taught me as much during life as she did during her illness and even since she passed on. It's amazing the lessons that come from beyond this world (You've just got to listen for them).
Love you Momma (Daisy) ! xxxooo <3
So there you have the "Daisies" portion of the name of my blog. The "Feathers" portion will come at a later date, when I can muster the strength to put into words those 15 days of gut wrenching pain.
