Life, Death and Everything in Between

Yesterday morning, October 28th, 2021, I received a cellular call from my mother’s Seniors’ Home. It was 0640 hrs. or 6:40 a.m. a soft-spoken staff member informed me my mother had died ten minutes earlier. She then gave me some information and told me she liked my mother very much and would miss her early morning wit. I thanked her and all the excellent staff at The Residence in Mission British Columbia.

When a parent or loved one is elderly like my mother, this is the call that you expect, maybe fear but are still surprised when it comes. My mother’s health had been declining for some time, but she was always a stubborn woman, and until she was ready to go, she would stay on this earth no matter how battered her moral body might be. After the first ten minutes of shock, I began to make telephone calls well others appeared and helped me with things I needed to do.

I emailed and sent out calls to a few close friends, her brothers and called the funeral home. Those I reached were very kind and supportive; I had to leave messages on answering machines for others. Today, I was the one leaving the messages that I always felt saddened by whenever I had received them but was glad I did not have to make them.

I looked through my mother’s papers, called her insurance company, and within the first hour, had arranged to have my mother’s body removed from the home, spoke to the staff at home once more and was feeling somewhat numb by the whole experience. In the back of my mind, I remembered my mother as someone who never gave up and rarely showed emotion in public, at least not in front of her children.

The next few hours were flooded with mixed emotions, my mother had been very ill for some time, and her death finally set her free of her pain. Throughout life, I had watched my mother deal with all sorts of pain, from emotional distress, physical pain to the loss of someone she had carried deeply about. Since she had arrived at The Residence, I watched her health slip further and further, and many times her mind was far away in the past, sometimes in pleasant places like when she was proud to become First Airwoman Wooding in the Royal Canadian Airforce during the time of the Korean War. Sadly, though other times, her mind went to very dark, scary places that I could not help her escape.

As I shaved, changed clothes, I remembered our first trip to London, England together, and we visited my Great Aunty Daisy. This brought a smile to my face of the wonderful adventures we shared together and with my elderly aunt.

My wife was enormous support, as was my mother-in-law in the first several hours. My mother loved them both very much and appreciated all my mother and father-in-law did for her over the last ten or more years. The funeral home experience was not at all what I expected. A nice looking huge building at the edge of a light industrial area, a large hall for funerals or memorial services and this awful, looped music with one or two words that played repeatedly. The Funeral Director never tried to upsell or question what we wanted and required and was as helpful as he could be. He filled out the required forms, explained things to us and asked the big question.

“Do you want to view the body?”

I have seen death in many forms since I was a teenager long ago; I have held friends as they left this earth. I have held the fingers of crushed accident victims as their life disappeared from their broken bodies. I have worked in funeral homes in my youth and a pet cremation center. As an adult, I had no fear of death. But looking at the aged, broken body of a loved one was something I did not desire or require. Her soul was departed and entrusted to our God; I wanted to remember my mother as the strong, lovely lady she was in my youth.

I discussed with my immediate family about any memorial, funeral, or celebration of life services. We all agreed as a family that we did not want anything not at this time. My mother was to be cremated, and her wishes met as closely as possible.

My mother, as a child, swam in the Thames River around London. She loved the water her entire life and was the only member of her family that immigrated to Canada in 1948 that never surrendered her British Citizenship or became a Canadian citizen. Yes, she did service in the Canadian Military; she paid Canadian taxes most of her life and worked from fifteen. She could never bare to give up the one thing she felt she had complete control of, and that was her birthright, as she put it to me often.

I would speak to others briefly throughout the day, cancel appointments and go to the Seniors’ residence to pack her things. In many ways looking through her small room, I was relieved that her apartment and many of her affairs were looked after months ahead of this time. Just looking through clothes and a few items today was enough; the staff were very kind to us during this process. A male staff member expressed how much he liked my mother, and I could feel the sincerity of his words.

In my mind, as the day moved on, I wanted to rely on a mental checklist, but due to a concussion injury felt this very difficult and painful to do. I am so fortunate to have a caring spouse to lean heavily on who at one point told a Funeral Director I had a head injury when I became so confused with paperwork and were to initial and where to sign.

It was important to me to thank the staff at The Residence in Mission for their kindness; we left a card and some store-prepared food items; yes, Covid has changed so very much. When we left the facility for the final time, we realized we would not have to return to this awful parking experience but at the same time were so thankful for the staff above the parking nightmare.

It is now 0401 hrs. or 4:01 a.m. October 29th, 2021, I could not sleep and decided to finish this first day of dealing with Death. I look over an old photo of my mother, brother, and me from the 1960s and prepare for more paperwork and everything else associated with losing a parent.

In just a few hours, she will have been gone an entire day, and a grabble with some numbness and feeling of loss. In 2021, an uncle of my wife, my elder brother, a trusted, beloved figure in my life and my mother have all died in about a five-month process. The only advantage with concussion-related problems and pain is most people cannot see the true loss you are experiencing.

er My final thought is Death; you have called upon the ones’ I loved enough! Would you please let others be at peace for the rest of 2021?