I intend to take the Memoir Certificate program at the University of Washington Professional & Continuing Education. Year long program, not particularly cheap. I would never have considered taking this on when I was working. But now I will. It runs for 3 quarters. I realized today that the application process is a little bit more involved than putting in a credit card number. Writing sample and a letter of application. But, again thanks to not working, I managed to prepare these pieces this afternoon.
Other movement in the air. Danny called, he wanted to talk about the nuts and bolts of leaving his shared apartment and rent one of his own along with his girlfriend. I convinced him that really he had no impediments other than the usual and encouraged him to move ahead. He called me an hour or so later. He had given notice to his roommate and applied for and got a new apartment, just what he wanted. Yay!
Ilana realized, to her chagrin, that the registration for the classes at University of Michigan had actually started that morning and she didn't even know about it! She hadn't been checking her umich.edu address. By this morning, she had gotten all of the classes she needed.
Her workplace of only six months gave he a party even ordering a cake done up in Univ of Mich colors. One workmate gave her a set of maps, another some yummy baked bars packed in a container for the trip. So thoughtful.
She's getting ready to do what she calls 'Buick Tetris' fitting everything she needs into my mom's Buick. Her older sister will be here this evening to help (she'll whack thins into shape), her older brother on Saturday also to help. She's off on Sunday!
Picture used without permission from pickthebrain, a personal productivity site.
Here's the latest version of my writing sample I'm submitting. Suggestions welcome. It's a rewrite of my piece from last week from my Autobiography class. Exactly 500 words
Winter Olympics
The nurse at the hospital told me over the phone on Tuesday morning in February "Your mother has decided to end all of her meds and have her pacemaker stopped. Comfort medications only."
My 85 year old mother had declared many times throughout her life "I do NOT want to be kept alive with machines. If there's no hope for me to live independently, no heroics. Promise me!"
But this story is really about the Winter Olympics. My mother held some things in reverence...the space program, Leonard Bernstein, the Olympics and, of course, medical doctors. She had been looking forward to the Winter Olympics. When I spent time with her in the skilled nursing facility several weeks before, the promos would come on, she would cry out with anticipation and delight "Yes! I'm ready for the Olympics, I'm right here watching, Let them start!"
My brother, sister and I dropped everything and went to Rockford Illinois. The next morning my mom had a deathbed speech all prepared. She wanted us to support her "It's what I want! I'm at peace" she assured us, paying extra attention to my sister who would call out the medical cavalry given the chance.
By Wednesday afternoon she could only say words, not sentences. She soon became unresponsive. But the Winter Olympics were in full swing with plenty of skiers, skaters, snow boarders, hockey players. We watched those crazy sports all week cheering for the US athletes or whoever happened to be winning. Telling my mom about the medals and the records. "Mom, Apolo Ohno just got a silver medal!" When we left in the evening, we kept the Olympics on so, in her own way, she wouldn't miss out on the drama and pageantry.
She died Sunday afternoon. My siblings and I, spent the entire week with her watching the Olympics. We all knew that this train only had one destination. Like the ski slopes, down, down and down. We planned the memorial service and got the photos we would use ready. We had the opportunity to share all these arrangements with her.
Think about it, what would you rather have? A lot of people gathering around you, anguished, crying, grieving? A few times, other people visited, looking down at her, unhappy and upset. She was busy dying she didn't want all that distraction. She made that really clear "Up! Up!" she said, while she still could. So we kept things pretty quiet.
When your time comes, why not hang out with your adult children watching your beloved Olympics? Looking at family pictures? Just like you would be doing at home? The nurses kept the IV morphine flowing.
What good fortune that my mom could make this call herself.
My mom feared being alone at the end. But she wasn't. Her children peacefully stayed with her. We had all the time in the world. Plenty of ski-jumpers still blasting down the mountains and soaring into the air and figure-skaters spinning and spinning.
1 comment:
"But this story is really about the Winter Olympics." NO! It's first and foremost about your mother's passing, in which the Winter Olympics were a comforting backdrop. I know you like the juxtaposition of her passing and the Olympics, but imo you need to be careful not to overplay it. If anything I would do the reverse...start off with the Olympics and then say that this is really about your mother's passing...
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