It's been a while since my last blog and a LOT has happened since. 

Disclaimer: I know that EOL and losing a parent can cause people to do crazy things, however what happened in both cases below was a bit off the deep end.

So where to begin?

It's a strange almost surreal feeling; having both of my parents no longer a phone call away. So many times I have looked down at my phone and gazed at their numbers wanting to dial. I don't believe anyone can truly understand the emotions and feelings associated with losing a parent, let alone two until it happens to them. Hopefully in some way, this blog will help someone going through a similar situation. Perhaps give them a little hope. I'm told with time the anniversaries, birthdays and similar will get easier. 

  In September of 2017,  I lost my Dad to Lewy Body Dementia. While I miss him greatly, I know that he is no longer in pain physically or mentally and is up in Heaven with my Mom who passed away just 2 years prior due to cancer as well as his Mother, siblings and other who passed before him, such as his best friend who he had a tree service business with. 

I was able to spend almost a month with my Dad over the summer of 2017. I was able to talk with him, sometimes simply hold his hand while he napped, assisted in helping him into bed each night and whenever he wanted to get into his wheelchair and go on a walk or eat at the table. Which I have to admit, he tried hard to do on his own, but knew when he needed help. A few times I went out and got him some Culvers frozen custard which he gobbled up without err. His sense of sarchastic humor remained til the end, something he was known for. The only downside to my visit is that when Mr POA came out to visit, I had to make myself scarce for the day. I really dunno what they think would happen, but probably for the best given his temper and threats.

My Dad was an arborist for as long as I can remember. When he wasn't working on vehicles for the village, he was pulling more hours in the evening and weekends with his tree business. Sadly his best friend also developed LBD and passed away just a few years prior. Speculation; I was told is that it is from the pesticides they used and were exposed to back in the 60s, 70s, 80s etc. I can only assume my Dad thought the same as he jerked me back from touching a palm tree feeder when he was visiting me here in FL while at the botanical gardens. (He was in his element :)) Does anyone really know the cause of LBD? I honestly don't know. But I do know that I would not wish LBD on my worst enemy, not even Mr POA.

But I digress; I'll start with my Mom: She was diagnosed with lung cancer that had gone into remission several years prior after having a good part of her lungs removed. Unfortunately it reared it's evil head again in 2015. While my Dad was visiting me in FL, I received a phone call stating that she was going to die any day and that I needed to get up there as soon as possible.  I flew back up to IL as soon as I could get a flight out; to take care of her for a few weeks and I am glad I went, regardless of the real reason he wanted me there: He had a delivery of rocks coming to his other house in TN and his wife didn't want to take are of my MOM. 

Her cancer had spead to her brain causing tremors and difficulty walking as well as she described: a sense of a continual anxiety attack. She could no longer bathe herself, had bathroom difficulties and pretty much needed assistance with just about everything. I tried everything to help her relax and feel better the best I could. I bathed, clothed, fed, drove to radiation/dr appts, and everything else she needed. A few times after her "Spa Facials" as we called radiation, she was hungry and wanted White Castle or some other fast food so darn it... she got it! Anything for MOM! She told me she was tired of the same snacks and food so I went to Costco and got her some nutritious snacks that she could digest and a few treats that she mentioned she missed having. 

Everything became real and heartbreaking, I suppose full circle as I towel dried her, got her dressed, did her hair and tried to make her feel pretty. I bought her a Shower seat to assist with bathing (I have a seriously bad shoulder after 3 surgeries and lifting her out of the tub was too difficult), a few new outfits of some simple soft leggings and plush sweaters to make her comfortable and feel good about herself. What woman doesn't like new clothes? <3 Despite her hair falling out in clumps, I dried and straightened her hair after almost every bath.(Regardless, for this too, I was scorned. "She doesn't need new clothes! Who cares what she looks like?" I was understandably shocked by these utterances however maintained a strong brave face for my Mom's sake, Not raising my voice once, not even when he jumped over the table at me, finger pointing and threatening. SMH... My one failed attempt was her toenails. I just couldn't do it right so I called a makeup artist/hairdresser friend of mine in Indiana who worked with the Look Good Feel Good Program who drove up from Indiana to cut/style Mom's hair an give her a Mani/Pedi. For the first time in a few days, she genuinely smiled. I'm SO glad to have those pictures and will be forever grateful to my friend who has one of the biggest hearts! She volunteered to come back to IL when the time came to shave Mom's head and help style her wigs for her, but she was turned down when she called Mr POA. It had already been done because someone was "Tired of her hair clogging the drain"!?!?! 

Nonetheless: Despite all of the threats, drama and verbal abuse; In the short time I was visiting;  She and I were able to connect, talk and against her will as well as my own, I was able to help her sort through her belongings and pick out the outfit she wanted to wear in the end. She gave me a small jewelry box full of misc jewelry, nothing valuable, yet sentimental. Her cookbooks I opted to give to my daughter as she was getting married in a few short months. (Needless to say, my Mom did not make the wedding but a friend sent me pictures of her at the bridal shower) She spoke about likin the beach and wishing she could visit it one last time. I again offered that she could come back to FL with me where her MD sister and brother now reside. But she declined. She was afraid to leave.

Most disturbing; my Mom informed me of some pretty serious family demons that had her living in fear. I witnessed a few. Again I offered to bring her back to FL with me, but she declined because she didn't want anything bad to happen to anyone. :( I was incredibly concerned yet maintained my composure and I blogged each night in the cold basement room after taking care of her as I found it theraputic and many friends who read it also were touched and encouraged me to do so. As the situation declined at Mr POA's house, my blogs became hard to stay civil, however I was very general, no names mentioned and very truthful. Part of the reason why Mr POA threw me out of his house and threatened my life yet again. On the day it happened, my daugher and I went to a local mexican supermarket where I purchased everything she needed to make fresh torillas and tacos. My Mom loved the meal and ate more than I had seen her eat in a while, aside from the White Castles. lol We had just finished dinner when the call came. I put him on speaker so all could bear witness to what was about to occur. I watched the faces of all of the women in the house who were scared to death of what might happen should I have stayed, as Mr POA has a very bad temper and is heavily armed. Heartbroken... regretfully I gathered my things, said my goodbyes while my granddaughter sobbed because I was leaving and went for a drive before going to a childhood friend's house who gave me a roof over my head until my flight home the next day.

September,  5 months later I was called by someone who shall remain anonymous for safety reasons and told that my Mom was EOL and at the hospital.  I flew up to IL as quickly as I could. When I arrived, the hospital staff had no idea that I existed? Probably because back in April, my Mom was intimidated not to sign the HIPA ppwk so I could know how she was and how her cancer was progressing when I drove her to her appts. Even the desk nurse reiterated her concern and asked my Mom a few times if she was sure she didn't want to sign the ppwk. My Mom simply stated: "My son told me not to sign it and that he will take care of everything". Needless to say... he lied. Thank GOD for some of the staff, doctors and nurses who filled me in once I arrived and the night nurses who gave me details on her condition and treatment plan aka hospice.

Apparently she had been non verbal for a few days prior to my arrival and was taken off her feeding tube just days before I arrived, so I brought some old 70s Max Factor Wild Strawberry Musk roll on with me, because it was from my Mom. She and I always had it on hand, in fact I spent most of the 70s and 80s smelling like wild strawberry musk or "Tresor/Magie Noire" thanks to my Mom. :)  Thus is why I went the direction of scents to help her become coherant. I bought a few old pictures as well that made her smile. 

When I saw her, I felt like bursting into tears, however I maintained my composure while all I kept hearing was "This is it" and "I have MPOA and POA so don't you try to do anything"? (I still don't understand what the heck it is I was supposedly going to do?)  According to two of my Mom's siblings; My Mom was told directly by the MPOA/POA person that she would never again talk/see me while she was alive. NOPE you just can't make this stuff up! Albeit I do have some of it recorded.

In the week I spent at that hospital, my Mom and I communicated, sang, watched movies, listened to music, prayed and so on. When she could no longer physically talk, we used hand squeezes and eye rolls, etc. I had one friend stop by to bring me some food, an Army Major actually who is a very good family friend. Yet he was seriously disrespected by Mr POA. I was not "Allowed" to have anyone come and pay their respects to my Mom because "No one will see MY mother in this condition"!? Which was reiterated over and over in the short time I spent pretty much living in that hospital room with my Mom. I felt sorry for the nurses who had to hear it over and over again along with "You work for me". He threatened to have me thrown out of her hospital room, more than once. For what!? I honestly don't know. I stayed quiet 99% of the time he was in the room. SMDH... Crass is crass and money certanly cannot buy class. Agreed?

As a photographer I brought my camera to capture some last shots of my Mom, her hands, etc and was threatened as soon as I pulled it out. "No one will take one picture of MY Mother or I will kill them".  Sigh... Yes this was actually uttered. Despite the threats, I was able to get a few tasteful shots. 

After cleaning up her room each night after all of Mr POA's  friends and attorney left, yes... it felt like there was a party in my dying mother's room every day just awaiting her departure! There were so many folding chairs, plates of uneaten food, etc that I felt bad for the nurses and cleaned up. Nevermind the safety issue if they needed to get in the room quickly. To me... The magnitude of people in her room, many strangers invited by Mr POA:  It was disrespectful and very upsetting. Heck... some of the people who were in her room... I know she could not stand to be in the same room with when she was well. As for his atty? I can only speculate that it was about his taking over her life insurance policy and writing me out when he had her declared mentally unfit to make her own decisions and his possible fear that I may contest the will/policy which I know for fact I was in because she called me for all my information and had me sign a few documents. As cruel and greedy the actions of others can be... I don't care about he $$, contesting the will/policy. Albeit my Mom would have wanted me to fight it, I refrained. She actually hoped that the realtionship between myself and Mr POA could be repaired however after witnessing the abuse on more than one occasion she told me she understood why he and I can never maintain a civil relatonship ever again. It's a shame but I refuse to watch abuse nor be a victim to it. :( 

On a lighter note; Mom and I giggled about a few people when she was verbal after visiting hours and it was just she and I in her hospital room. The evenings spent alone with my Mom ranged from blissful in conversation to scary with all of the coughing fits, deep suction and more. Nonetheless, I would not trade one of those nights for anything in the world. It was my Mom and I's time... Uniterrupted by fear or abusive verbal scorn. The room felt "Lighter", very similar to when I was in IL months earlier and Mr POA was out of town. Albeit he sent his wife or atty to the hospital room every day during visiting hours that he was not present as if to babysit/spy? Who knows. My visit was all about my Mom and I was able to ingore much of his crass comments as a result while I dabbed her mouth swabs in Au Jus and fruit juices to give her just a little something extra as she was hungry and a literal 70lb shell of the woman I knew.  I never let go of her hand except a few times to use the bathroom and when a nurses aid promised me she would not leave her alone while I used the room shower. While she was sleeping, I took out my laptop and got some work done. Working on my accounts helped me defocus.

She was so tiny, so frail. She was always a petite woman, but in the end she was literally 30-40 lbs lighter than when I had seen her just 5 short months prior. Despite having no say in anything and a bit ignorant as to her treatment plan,  I tried to assist in every bedding change, gown change, towel rolls, mouth swabbing, anything and any way I could when we were alone. When the room was full, all I could get away with was holding her hand and passing the phone to her ear while her family spoke to her. In the end, her family members were able to say goodbye. Mr POA & Wife decided to go out to dinner with my estranged Aunt & Uncle that night. They returned literally within minutes of her passing. My intuition told me that it would be the last night for my Mom on this earth, But I was not going anywhere. Nonetheless, I called my friend in Indiana who drove 2 hrs up to the hospital to pick me up. She arrived minutes before my Mom passed away, however she had the door slammed shut on her by Mr POA. SMH!

I never let go of my Mom's frail pale hand not even while sleeping. I tried to reassure her every day that she didn't need to hold on for me, that it was ok to let go and that everything will be ok. Just as I told her so very near the end; "Hold onto my hand until you feel someone grab your other one on the other side, and I will know that you are at peace and with your loved ones". As she drew her last breaths, she turned her head to me, looked me in the eye and as one tear fell... she let go of my hand. Mom was gone. I tried to shut her eyes, but my hand was pushed away by Mr POA.  I shed my silent tears for a little while while chenching her hand and giving her some last hugs. I turned behind me and opened a window to let her spirit free then grabbed my belongings as Mr POA shouted "Yeah that's right, get the f*ck out". Needless to say, I remained silent and I left with my friend. 

As unconventional as it may sound, We went to the local Irish Pub and did a few shots of Middleton with friends in her honor. A Celtic/Norse tradition reserved for a wake, however I had a feeling I would not be invited to her final services... and I wasn't. Nor were her siblings. Her obit I read when I had returned home... was a travesty! And of course not one of my loving memorial comments online was permitted. Heck... I'm a bit shocked he didn't delete the comments from relatives that mentioned me. It's as if he wanted me to simply not exist, as evident in the hospital ppek, information, etc.

Luckily my Uncle told me where she is buried and I visited her and my Grandma, Grandpa, etc while I visited this past summer. I had hoped to drive out to her resting place on my last trip but the frigid temps and icy roads kept me away.

 My Mom was no saint, she had her issues, but when push came to shove, she was the "Cool Mom", the one who my highschool friends would turn to when they got into trouble or needed to talk. She had a way with words and knew exactly what to say/do to make a teen girl feel better. She was a great Mom. She wasn't strict, but as she used to say: she "Gave me enough rope to hang myself with". And oh boy did I test that rope at times! But Mom was always there for me regardless.

 She did not deserve the treatment she received in the final years of her life. Had I known, I would have tried to bring her to FL sooner, albeit it may have been a court battle with her being declaired incompetent. So Sad. Regrets... yes. I wish I would have tried harder to give her a better/lighthearted end of days. She loved the beach!  At least I know now that she's at the biggest beach in the sky and free of pain and anguish. No fear, anxiety, condemnation. And for that... I can sleep a little better. But I do miss her greatly. I will never forget her.

Now onto my Dad:

 For those who are not familiar with Lewy Body Dementia, the best way I can describe this horrible and unfortunately possibly genetic disease is: Debilitating, Humiliating and Entrapped in ones own body. A cross between parkinsons and dementia. When my Dad was diagnosed, I was still living in IL and my Dad was living about an hour and a half away. Of course in hindsight, I wish I would have visited him more. But I can't dwell on the could have should haves, and he would be pissed if I did.

But I digress, As the years went by, I slowly noticed the disease taking an effect on my Dad with hand tremors and a different gait. In 2010 I moved to FL (for a variety of reasons). One I can honestly admit is probably my own selfish motive in that I didn't want to watch my Dad decline, but rather remember him as the strong man that he once was. The man who carried me around on his shoulders while singing John Denver (Yep you can guess the song), or the man who walked a few miles to my grade school in the winter of 1977 to retrieve my bratty younger brother and I during one heck of a blizzard. It almost seems fitting that one of the reasons I left IL was the Snowpocalypse Blizzard of 2010. lol. 

In any case, it seems like the last few years the disease progressed rapidly. His tremors worsened, gait changed, had to count his steps to walk and eventually ended up in a wheelchair. It was heartbreaking. I can only imagine how he felt, given that he was always a man who did not like attention nor anyone doting on him or fussing.  But near the end... he had no choice. Albeit, thanks to my Stepmom, he was able to avoid going into assisted living and was able to stay in his own home until the very end.

September was an odd month, I spent a month preparing the house, borrowing baby items, making up gift baskets, t-shirts, gifts galore and more but then we had Hurricane Irma Blow through with a vengence which delayed my Daughter's first trip back to FL with my grandkids by over a week. Luckily they were able to bunk with my old neighbors who moved up to TN until Irma passed. Heck, when they arrived we still didn't have power. lol. But they made it. About 2 days into their arrival, my Stepmom called that my Dad was not doing well and she should drive back to IL. We were all at the beach and having a good time so I had planned on telling her once were were off the beach and back at the house. I wanted all of them to have at least one stressless day together in at the beach. Needless to say, the beach day was cut short when my Stepmom called her directly. I have to admit... My intuition was telling me it's not time yet. 

She took a few days/nights to go visit with her Hubby's family who resides in FL, and we took them back to the beach and out for a few dinners. One of which was at a pricy mexican restaurant w/live performers for her 21dt birthday that I was unable to celebrate with her. Additionally, I booked and planned a Disneyworld Vacation for her, the grandkids, her hubby and my BF, for just under one week in ORL. Everyone knew the trip was planned back in August. After the calls, she kept asking me if I could change it and I told her no because it was non cancelable. So off to Disneyworld we went within a few days of their arrival. We had fun at the parks, however the tension regarding my Dad was pretty thick with my Stepmom calling her periodically throughout the vacation. We ended up staying for the full booked vacation, but on the last day she got another call and beat us home back to my house to frantically pack and planned on leaving that night to drive back. Needless to say, after going to see his family, she decided they would leave in the morning. It was heartbreaking. I was tempted to drive back up with them, but I knew that in her state of mind we would do nothing but argue the entire 18-20 hr trip back. So off they went. The visit flew by so fast, so many plans that never happened, I can only hope they will again return one day so that I can at least take the little ones to see all the sights I had promised.

She made it back to Illinois in record time, her poor hubby must have been exhausted from driving straight through.

I scanned the flights daily, assessed the situation, however I was not able to make it back up to IL in time to say our final goodbyes. It was about a week later that my Dad finally decided to let go of his earthly body. My Daughter was by his side as she wanted to be, and for that I am grateful. 

His services, the organization etc was a bit sketchy, so I decided to fly up early and spend some time with a friend until it all was solidified and I could decompress just a little bit. At least this way there would be NO way I would miss the services due to flights.  Luckily the same great friend in Indiana picked me up from the airport in IL. There's something to be said about decompressing with a friend while doing a little retail therapy in the antique shops. I don't think at this point it had hit me yet that my Dad had passed away. As I left her place and headed North to another friend's house for an overnight pit stop, it started to hit me... But again... a good friend and a little retail therapy, catching up over cocktails... helped. But first thing in the AM... I was on the road again.

In case you're wondering about the "Retail therapy", I needed dresses. Both of the dresses I ordered online did not show up at my friend's place in IN and the packages were lost. Luckily last minute, the night before the wake... my dresses showed up. One being a "Redwoods" pinup style dress with huge redwood trees that reminded me of when my Dad, Mom and I were visiting the redwoods as a child. I can still see the image of the photos which I have no idea where they are now. But thankfully.... they showed up. A quick pressing and I was ready to go. My other dresses were from a local thrift shop, surprisingly designer and they fit well. At the very least, I thought: "No one can say anything about the way I'm dressed!" lol

There was "No Room at the INN" in terms of staying at my Dad's house so I ended up staying at my daughter's for one night then getting a hotel room nearby. The following day, my BF flew in and met me at the Hotel.

I Helped make some photo boards with my Granddaughter and Daughter with photos I had scanned and printed out at the local Wallymart. I also created a slideshow with music while I was in Indiana. Being so far away it's very difficult to be kept in the loop about anything, despite how many times I may call or leave messages. Nonetheless, I'm glad to have helped with the boards we made, as none of the other boards created had many pictures of me at all. It's as if I didn't/don't exist. Quite sad actually.

I created a video slideshow on my laptop with carefully selected songs that were his favorite and even picked out photos which included Mr POA despite the rift between us. (Now was not the time for grievences) Yet when I arrived with the laptop, my stepmom told me it was not needed and that HERS was to be front and center and if I needed to put "mine" on display it could go on a table in the dark room to the right of the viewing room? 

I took this in stride, pulled over a table, plugged in and pulled up the slideshow making sure the volume was low enough not to disturb anyone, but loud enough to hear. I received a few compliments on the pictures and skill and care it took to create the show as well as how nice it was for me to include EVERYONE in my slideshow and photoboards. 

I managed to keep it together at the wake, I had my BF nearby and was delegated to the opposite side of the coffin as to not be in close proximity with Mr POA. I dunno what the heck they thought I would do? I've never caused a scene anywhere and know how to conduct myself in all social situations better than most. So to this day I am still at a loss. Regardless, the redwood dress was a hit to those who really knew my Dad, they understood why I picked it and paired it with a silver tree necklace from my Mom. To me... it felt like I had both parents with me. But of course.... I was scorned by the anti-ME forces for not wearing black. :/ Fear not... I wore black the next day to the wake, services and funeral.

At the funeral home, they held a long catholic mass.I'm not catholic, but I hung in there. <<--- Angry Catholic, I'm Lutheran. ;) Later at the church I sat next to my Daughter and granddaughter. It was a very long Catholic Mass with communion and more. Mr POA left 1/2 way through!? My BF was not allowed to sit in the pew with me because we're not married? It doesn't matter really, none of this is about me. So why all the snyde comments and underbreath utterances from the same ol people!? Sigh.... Some things will never change.

My Dad looked good in his casket, I was allowed to place my hand on it after the services as we walked the casket to the back of the church, awaiting the pallbearers to load him into the hearse to go to the cemetary. As we all bottlenecked into the back of the church my cousin asked me where the heck Mr POA went and I had no idea. I told him to step up and grab a handle, because they were ready to move. He stepped up, and finally Mr POA arrived. SMH... But it gets better.

At the cemetary there were limited seats to be had, to which I sat down next to my daughter with granddaughter on my lap and 2 remaining seats next to me. My cousin and another instructed Mr POA that he should take one of the seats and his out loud reaction was "Oh Hell No, I'm not sitting next to that *****" I heard it, so I took it upon myself to be the bigger person and swapped seats with another at the end of the row.  No one wanted or needed the drama and his outburst was heard by plenty. 

Where my father is buried could not be more perfect. His grave is located under a large sycamore tree. Quite fitting considering that he always loved his trees. In fact in his obit it is asked that in lieu of flowers, please plant a tree. :) I stayed a bit longer than the rest graveside because I felt the need to watch my Dad be lowered into the ground, As a result we were a little late to the church luncheon afterwards. But fear not, as soon as we arrived... Mr POA up and left. Good riddence. Sadly... with any luck that will be the last time I ever have to see him again. 

I know in my heart that both my parents wish that Mr POA and I could have buried the hatchet before they left this earth but given circumstances which occured outside of me and what I incurred while taking care of my Mom I believe they both knew that it was not going to happen. 

I did not receive anything monetary or sentimental upon my parent's passing. It's as if the wolves swept in long before they had passed and the life insurance policies were altered long beforehand.  This I know with certainty in that I was asked to lie to my father and tell him I would be ok after he passes and my mother told me my brother promised he was taking care of everything including myself. Which at that point I think she knew with certainty was not going to happen. My stepmother and brother took it all. It is what it is. 

It's the sentimental items that bother me the most. Could I use the money? Absolutely! But that part is in God's hands and God don't like ugly nor the greedy nor theivery. 

In the end, losing both parents defintely leaves an emptiness inside oneself that is rather indescribable. Depressing, yet I know they are both free of pain and in a better place. But I miss them.  I could really use their advice at times or simply their company. So many words left unsaid. I can only take solace in knowing that one day we will all be back together again.

In the interim, if you are one that still has one or both parent's in the land of the living, I urge you to cherish every moment and reach out to them as much as you can. Because once their gone... It's too late. And make damn sure you have their final affairs in writing and locked down SOLID. It will spare you a LOT of unnecessary drama and strife.

It has taken me 2 years to finish writing this blog, and quite frankly: I'm not thrilled with it's rawness and grammatical errors but so be it. It's brutally honest. And I write this so that no one else has to go through what I did via a family member. Take action and do what you need to do before it's too late. 

In closing I will end with this:

Cherish every moment you have left with your parents because once they're gone, a part of you is forever missing. The pain will lessen, but grief is a funny thing... All it takes is a scent, song or a moment to reignite and then you're back to square one. Especially around the holidays. The empty chair is real, and worse when you have two.