Byrd's Eye View

Oh, Mom's fine.

For those of you who live near her, she'll be out tomorrow morning (and the next and the next), walking her usual route and picking up trash.  She's called the Trash Lady by some who don't know her. 

No, today Mom took my brother and I ahead to a time that neither of us want to think about.  You see, she's at that point in life where she wants to make plans for her last days.  She went to several attorneys who specialize in estate planning, and settled on an attorney in the Guilford College area who she really connected to. 

Today, Mom arranged for Jon and I to meet with Cheryl and take a look at some of her arrangements for her Last Will and Testament, Powers of Attorney, and her Living Will.  I was prepared for some stuff, but that last one, the Living Will, had me unglued. 

You see, my mom and her sisters had to make a decision about my grandmother about 15 years ago.  They were told that Mommac was in the last stages of Parkinson's and that she was not going to recover.  They had to decide whether or not to feed her and hydrate her through tubes.  Unfortunately, Mommac's mind was still good... it was her body that failed her.  She couldn't speak anymore and her expressions were fleeting.  She was so tired...

It took two weeks for her to die.  It was awful.  We don't know if she suffered since they probably didn't administer pain medications or morphine back then, but I know that her daughters suffered every minute of every day knowing that they decided to essentially starve her to death. 

Mom wants to protect Jon and I from that decision, if it comes, but she didn't know whether she wanted to sign anything with specific instructions.  I didn't want to be at a big, shiny wood table with pages of legalese -- jargon that became almost comical to read.  Pages with initials, signatures, witnesses, notarizing... but they all represent my mother's last days.   My mom and her care.  Her death.  Those are the days that I will only want to be next to her, holding her hand.  Or feeding her.  Making her comfortable.  Watching "Monk", "Columbo"  and "Harvey" on DVD over and over again.  Reading the latest children's book to her (she was a children's librarian for over 20 years).  I don't want my mother's sacred last days reduced to pages of paper.

I must say at this point that Cheryl and her assistant, Kent, were smart, professional, and extremely patient through the entire process.  They stayed to answer every question for as long as it took, and showed great sensitivity to the grave subject at hand.  And they assured us that we're doing paperwork now so that we don't have to do it (and more) at a later time when we'd rather be sitting with Mom, watching DVD's and making her comfortable. 

Mom's a trooper.  She's even trying figure out what to do with her ashes.  I think that's a great idea since Mommac is still in a shoebox on a shelf.  Really.

But now that we've signed everything, Mom can relax.  She'll be out tomorrow morning marching around the neighborhood just like she does every morning.  She was recently "clipped" by a minivan which left her laying in the road and limping for a week.  I like to say Mom got hit by a truck.  And she keeps on going.  I figure she still has six or seven lives left, so hopefully I won't have to pull out those "Columbo" DVD's anytime soon.