Six Months In: Thoughts About Active Dying

"Life has many mysteries, but there is nothing comparable to death"

Tomorrow marks sixth months since my mother's death. The six month mark is especially difficult for spouses, so I'll be checking in on dad. For me, it hasn't been that rough (yet), because I've been so focused on other issues. But, that grieving timeline does affect me; otherwise, I wouldn't have woken with a start the other night thinking I had forgotten to flush mom's biliary catheter.

Those last three days before mom's death were breathtaking for me. The last coherent thing she did before she settled into her hospital bed in the living room for the last time was to pick out her urn. She dressed herself (with a little help), and held court with the funeral directors for about two hours. Then, she returned to her nightclothes and settled in for what appeared to be a 24-hour coma.

But, perhaps it wasn't a coma after all. I'm still learning about "active dying," or the end our "life in form," and how dying is a very active part of our lives. Death Cafe shared an interesting article this morning on Facebook, and I was thrilled to read the information contained in this piece about active dying. This article didn't focus on the usual 'list' of "are they dying yet" tips. Instead, this article speaks from a space that is both spiritual and physical. The third paragraph caught my attention immediately:

Often the time of death is preceded by an apparent coma, in which many things happen below conscious awareness. It is a great challenge to develop the spiritual guidance and inspiration, the vision and knowledge that can speak of the peace in surrender, and guide each other there.

Oh, that paragraph took me back to that moment six months ago, when I knew that mom heard everything that was going on around her. Although she seemed 'dead to the world,' she was active inside...her body was rapidly breaking down, and her mind was somewhere I couldn't touch. But, I knew she was still with me. She validated my assumption by becoming more communicative the day before she died, and by affirming she heard everything by answering some of my questions.

The article leans into Buddhism, and my mother was a deeply devout Christian. But, she often listened to my brother's Buddhist thoughts on spirituality, and she liked them. I think she would have enjoyed this article in another space and time, including its focus on metaphysical changes. Yes, metaphysical...the author is answering the questions, "what is ultimately there," and "what it is like."

If I take this article to heart, however, I'd have to laugh at the efforts that dad and I made to open the doors for her to hear the birds and to talk to her about the imaginary rabbits and turtles that we saw in the yard. According to the article, mom really wasn't aware of our efforts at the end...

During the period of the near-death reflex, the mind-body also experiences the release of beta-endorphins and other neuropeptides. The inner experience is a profound relaxation of the entire body, so profound that any awareness of the outside world disappears.

Ah, so. Dad and I were playing out those roles for ourselves. That's fine, too.

I know that I never would have remembered the information in this article while mom was alive. I was too concerned with her moment-to-moment living conditions. But now, looking back at those three days before her actual death, this article speaks to me like no other words have to this point.

For that revelation, I'm grateful.

Time to Give Thanks

I haven't thanked anyone since my October 1 post, where I thanked many artist, writer, poet, musician, and photography friends for their monetary, emotional, and physical support. So, a quick post today to catch up on all those individuals who have stepped up since the beginning of the month...

First, a huge thank you and gratitude to the authors, editors, and publishers who read my memoir excerpt and offered their words of praise and encouragement: Many thanks to Mara Eve Robbins, Kim Jacobs, Janeson Keeley, S. E. Ingraham, and Tony Acree. I've posted their reviews on this site.

If you're a blogger, author, editor, or publisher and you'd like to write a (hopefully positive) review of this memoir's excerpt, don't hesitate to contact me via Twitter or Facebook.

Now for the donors!

• Who can write a book without the support of her family? Thanks to my husband, Hugh, my daughter, Cora, and her boyfriend, Will, for their monetary encouragement! They dug deep for this effort, trust me. That's what makes their gifts all that much more awesome. <3
• Thanks again to Tony Acree, as he not only partially dedicated his last book to me (The Watchers), but he wrote a review AND he wants an eBook. You know how to be a fan, Tony -- thanks!
• Vicki Bironas, owner of Fire It Up Studio in La Grange, KY, stepped up to be the first business to support my memoir. Thanks to her generous $150 gift, her shop name and location will go in the print and eBook editions of the memoir. Vicki  - MWHA! One of my best besties. 
• To my friend, Tess Elliott -- thank you for your monetary support and your encouragement. I love, especially that you comment on almost every post I write and like just about every post I contribute to my Facebook page. You're a gem, Tess. Tess is an artist and a photographer who creates toy theaters, and who is insanely in love with puppetry and art in general.
• Thank you, Melissa Crites, for your support! Melissa is the owner of Serenity Studio, LLC in La Grange, KY, and I can guarantee you that she is a superb massage therapist. She's also an artist with a focus on painting some beautiful gourds.
• Another La Grange business owner, Sue Ann Birchfield, owner of Rainy Day Resale, stepped up to support my project, too. If you'll notice at her website, her resale business is top notch and upscale -- drool-worthy, actually. =)
• And, thanks to my dear friend Joe Davenport for his support. He's been a huge supporter for a long time, to the extent that he actually dressed up like Elvis for an event I created. Joe, you're the best. <3
• Many thanks to Dr. Nurit Israeli , a psychologist and psychology professor in NY, but also a wonderful poet. Of course, that's how I met Nurit -- as a poet -- and she's an extraordinary wordsmith and observer of life. I'm so honored to have your company on this journey, Nurit!
• Then, there are the anonymous supporters. Anonymous to you, that is...I know who they are, because Indiegogo provides that information for me. I think they know how much I appreciate them, too. Much love!
• Finally, I have a supporter to thank who may not show up on the campaign site, depending upon if we can work it out. John Manning is a friend, a dance partner, a banker, and a hoot. He wants his name in the book, so we're working that out. I'm honored.

That's right --  you can contact me directly if you don't want to use your credit card or display your name or whatever is keeping you from using the Indiegogo Cancer, Caregiving, Contentious Love site. If you want to support my efforts, let me know. I'll be happy to help.

Taking my Gratitude to the Next Level

I'm grateful that mom left a story for me to tell.

I mentioned in a previous post that I began to share a gratitude list every morning on my private Facebook page. I started this practice about three months before mom died. In the beginning, I felt very self-conscious about expressing appreciation for what I had, although now that self-consciousness seems ludicrous.

I was late posting my gratitude a few days. Some days I was up before the rooster crowed, pondering how I could turn things around in my head to show that I was looking at a brighter side. Believe me, some days I really worked hard at this list. I skipped the list for at least five separate days, because I just couldn't shake my funk enough to see the light.

I don't know why I stuck to five items daily. Perhaps that fifth (or fourth, or even third) item on the list really takes some genuine reflection and change of attitude on my part. By the time I'm through with each morning's list, I often gain a tremendous amount of insight into my feelings and motives.

A few of my friends are in the habit of offering up a gratitude list on a daily basis. What I love about these lists is that I get to know that friend just a little bit better because of what she (yes -- usually a she) is going through. A number of friends, even those who don't post a gratitude list, have approached me to tell me how much my lists mean to them. Mostly, they can relate to a lot of things I went through during my time as a caregiver to mom.

I continue to post those lists on a daily basis, and the focus now is more on the aftermath. I can't seem to get my head wrapped around the lists these days, and I think I've reached a threshold. I think I know the cause behind my lackadaisical attitude...I've become less grateful. The habit is now just a habit, and I need to challenge my perspective. As a result, I want to take my list to a new level.

Starting tomorrow, I'll be posting my daily gratitude lists to my Cancer, Caregiving, and Contentious Love public Facebook page. I think this is the right thing to do, because I'm feeling very self-conscious about the move. I realize that many new readers may not know my entire story, and that's another prompt for me to become more aware of my motives and my explanations.

Maybe, after a few weeks, I'll begin to see my new self-consciousness as ludicrous. And, I hope that my habit will help someone else. I would be most grateful if you'd let me know.

Supporting the Arts & Letters

This is the trailer for Afterthoughts by Lynn Tincher, produced by Dark Palette Productions

I love to support artists. I have supported many writers, musicians, videographers, other authors, poets, crafters, and actors over the years, and it's been my pleasure. Often, the payback is unexpected, like when local author Tony Acree dedicated his latest book, The Watchers, to another local author, Lynn Tincher, and me. What a gift! All I did was tell him to quit editing and keep writing (advice that is difficult for me to follow, by the way -- I was throwing down the gauntlet!).

That's why I'm supporting two artists I know from the get-go with my Indiegogo fundraiser.

1. Michele Larocque is a photographer, writer, poet, and visionary. She is a friend, too. She is creating a trailer for my fundraiser at Indiegogo, and it's in its final stages. You can find her on Facebook.
2. When I was asked to find some music for that trailer, I reached out to my local musician friends. Within 24 hours, neighbor Michael Smith came up with an original track that he's modifying now to fit the trailer. I'm so blessed, because Michael, too, is a visionary and a talented musician. He teaches ukulele, but he's adept at any stringed instrument. He doesn't have a site I can point to; but, if you're a local I can provide you with his number if you want lessons.

The wonderful thing about my Indiegogo campaign is this: Other artists now are supporting me, and I'm thrilled beyond words. My gratitude is tangible...

• I'm mentioning Lynn Tincher again not only because she was a generous donor to my Indiegogo campaign, but because she's also involved in a project that is making tracks. She's creating a film from her first novel, Afterthoughts, and she's having great success with this endeavor. Please support her.
• I met another donor to my campaign, Pearl Ketover Prilik, at Robert Brewer's Poetic Asides, where we've been writing poems side-by-side for a few years now. I taught Pearl how to make a heart with ascii type, and she's been a devoted heart fan since that lesson.
• Speaking of Robert Lee Brewer, he generously offered to be a reference for my applications to writer retreats, and you can purchase his latest poetry, Solving the World's Problems, at Amazon. Michael Dwayne Smith from Mojave River Press & Review also stepped up to offer a reference, as did Kim Michele Richardson (another local), author of The Unbreakable Child and columnist at Huffington Post. Other people who offered their support include Jay Sizemore, author of Father Figures, and Sheri Wright -- a woman who offers a bagful of talent in photography, poetry, writing, and now in documentaries.
• Other donors to my campaign include Penny, who makes jewelry from mushrooms (how creative is THAT), and sells at local markets in Virginia. Another donor, who wishes to remain anonymous, also is a writer and a poet. Yet another donor, Diane, writes AND edits, and she helped me tremendously with the copy on my campaign as well as donated to my cause.

I'm blessed to be surrounded by such giving and creative people, and I haven't even tapped the surface of my well of creative friends. I am VERY blessed. If these individuals have faith in me, then you can have faith in me, too. Visit Cancer, Caregiving, and Contentious Love at Indiegogo.

How about you? Do you create? Do you support creators?

The Palm of My Left Hand.

I just learned something about myself today. When I'm really tired I tend to prop my head in the palm of my left hand. Witness the first picture that my four-year-old daughter took of me on a Greyhound bus en route from Mississippi to Colorado in 1993. I had been awake for almost 48 hours when she took that photo. I was too frightened to fall asleep while traveling via bus with a four-year-old. I wouldn't sleep for another ten hours.

My husband took the second photo during my birthday in November, 2013, almost exactly 20 years after that first photo. I was one and one-half months into an almost three-month reprieve from caregiving for mom. I had returned home to catch up with work, to try to salvage my garden before winter, and to meditate on what I had on the plate before me. Believe me, it wasn't a bowl of ice cream. I wasn't sleeping well at all.

At the encouragement of some dear women friends, I began to write a list filled with at least five things I was grateful for every day. No matter how tired or irritated or frightened I was, I began writing and posting these lists every morning on my private Facebook page. I started this habit about three months before mom died. At first, I was very self-conscious about my gratefulness. But, by the time mom died, I was in full swing. I even posted five things I was grateful for on the morning she died:

6/7/2014: This morning I'm grateful.

1. I'm so grateful that mom found it in herself to be responsive enough to say goodbye to her sons and her granddaughter via phone yesterday. Those calls, although only less than a minute and mostly unintelligible, were miraculous, joyful, and transcendent.

2. I'm grateful for mom's music therapist, who came and sang and played for mom for over an hour yesterday. He didn't have to make that effort. When he said goodbye to her, he held her hand and kissed her forehead, and mom had the sweetest smile on her face. She even responded while he was here, saying he was "soothing."

3. I'm grateful that I can find yesterday as a stunningly beautiful day, because today is not so great so far.

4. I am grateful beyond words for my loving friends who live all over the world who are holding us in their hearts. I feel that lift, I do. I feel it physically, and it sustains me.

5. It's hard, but I'm grateful that I can find some things today to be grateful for. I hope mom can let go soon.

I don't know what time I posted that list that Saturday morning. I just know I hadn't slept for at least 48 hours. I know I was sitting next to mom's bed. I'm almost positive I was holding my head in my left palm, because I know I was holding mom's right hand with my right hand.

I don't find it ironic that, in both photos, I lost sleep caring for a daughter and a mother. I'm not surprised that I can still bring a hint of a smile to my face despite lack of sleep. Even without those gratitude lists, I've been grateful most of my life. I've always been grateful for friends, relatives, and complete strangers who have held my hand and showed me a way.

Without gratitude, I wouldn't survive. Gratefulness is like the palm of my left hand -- it lifts me up.