October 7, 2005

• Featured_Grownups has challenged members of her blog ring to write a memory of the 80′s. Mine is not a memory of world events or cultural variation. My strongest memory of the 80′s has to be that that is when my mother died.
  
  My mom was diagnosed with lung cancer in 1977. At that time, she had the lower lobe of her right lung removed. She recuperated well and seemed to be in good health until 1979. At that time, the cancer reappeared, and she began chemotherapy. She was living in New Jersey at that time and keeping house for her brother. Since they were both alone and he was losing his sight, it had made sense for her to sell her home in Iowa and move to New Jersey several years earlier. Having my mother located just 60 miles from New York City gave my family and I a nice place to visit and a base for trips into that very interesting city. However, when my mom became ill, it created a major worry, because I was trying to help her from halfway across the country. I had a job and two small children, so the time I could spend in New Jersey was limited. I spent what time I could with her, and every time I left, it was with the feeling that it might be the last time I would see her.

  
  

  My mom surprised everyone by doing very well on chemotherapy.  Although she did lose her hair, she actually gained weight and was healthy most of the time.  She did some extensive traveling, made some day trips to Atlantic City to try her hand in the casinos, and enjoyed time with friends and neighbors.

  
  

  In late fall of 1982, my uncle died.  That was a major change for my mom, leaving her alone in New Jersey with no responsibility for anyone else and no family nearby.  In the spring of 1983, she decided to move to our small town in Minnesota, so my husband and I acted as her agents to purchase and prepare a house just 2 blocks from ours.  When it was ready, we flew out to New Jersey with our kids to help her pack up and to drive her car back here.

  
  

  We were hoping for at least a few years to enjoy having my mom close to us and for her to watch her grandchildren grow up, but unfortunately, the time was to be short.  In the fall of 1984, her bone marrow became unable to recover from the chemo, so it was stopped.  She was told that she might not live until Thanksgiving, but she amazed doctors again by surviving to mid-February of 1985.  I think she wanted one more Christmas and then she did not want to spoil my birthday, which is in January.  The mind and will are very powerful and my mom’s were very strong.

  
  

  We took care of my mom as her illness progressed, and she died at our home.  Although her illness was stressful, I am very happy that we were able to be there with her through it.  I think that knowing that we did all that we could to help her made her death much easier.  I was very close to my mom, being the only child of an only parent, so when she died, I lost my entire birth family.  Because we were close, it was very appropriate that my husband and I shared her death.  Although I cannot say that it was a happy experience, it was a rewarding one in many ways.  I have always been very much at peace with the end of her life.

  
  

  It is very appropriate to write this today.  This is my mom’s birthday.

  • 9:25 am
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