Going Home

It has been about three weeks since my uncle passed away.  I have found it difficult to grieve in front of the boys. When they notice I am down, they innately, want to cheer me up. Knowing that this is not possible, I try and avoid it all together.
A common question when someone dies is "Was it sudden?" "Were you close?"  I am guilty of this too. It's the living's way of finding comfort in the answer.  If it was sudden, then it seems that anyone of us could be victim to it.  If it wasn't, then somehow it must have been easier to prepare for. If you were close, then one assumes it was harder for you.  The truth is, death is the one thing we all have in common. We can't avoid it and eventually we will all experience it.  Some sooner than others and most of us will or have dealt with it by losing a friend or family member.
I grew up on the outside perimeter of death. I was the youngest grandchild on my mother's side and the second youngest on my father's.  My mom dragged me to so many wakes and funerals as a kid, I can't even keep them strait.  It was her way of supporting a friend who lost a mother, or a distant family member I had never met.  I'm not blaming my mom, but it really screwed me up.   As a kid I would sit in a funeral parlor in a big stiff chair watching people sob and talk, all in front of a casket. I would avoid that side of the room at all costs, but through the people and flowers I could always see the body.  When the thriller video came out in 1983 I had my first heart attack.  My second one came at the release of the Sixth Sense.  I can trace my fear of ghosts and dead bodies right to its source.
So when I heard my uncle was in the hospital I left it to my mom to send my well wishes.   My uncle was an adventurous fun loving guy, he took risks... a lot.  Since I was a kid, he has had 2 motorcycle accidents and several other near death experiences with his job. In fact, one of the accidents he had as a teen he actually did die for a few seconds.  When I heard he had fallen off a boat in Arizona I can't say I was too concerned.  I may have been more concerned if I hadn't heard of him doing something crazy.   The fall actually gave him 2 staples in his head and he was back on his bike.
It wasn't until he flew to Indiana that something happened.   He had flown home for a funeral of a friend. He had gone to the funeral but collapsed shortly after.  They found him and rushed him to the hospital.  They assumed it may have been a little stroke, but kept him for observation. That is when my mom visited him.  He joked that he was knocking at the pearly gates, but they didn't answer. He had openly expressed that when he had died, it was the most peaceful experience he had ever felt. He often said he was not afraid of it, and his lifestyle supported his claim. Don't get me wrong, he loved his family and his life, but he also had a strong faith in what happens after you die.  He was scheduled to have an MRI. He said he would talk to my mom when he got home.   As they were taking him to the test he got very sick and they realized his brain was hemorrhaging.  They rushed him to emergency surgery and with that, we learned that blood had consumed his brain and he was now on life support.
So to answer the question if it was sudden, yes, I guess so.  My mom called and told me the news.  This time I felt an overwhelming pull to be with her.  He was in a hospital about 45 minutes away. I found myself within minutes picking up my bags, leaving work and driving there.  I was nervous. I hate hospitals, the smell reminds me of my mom dragging me to nursing homes as a kid.   I know I am painting her as a morbid person but even her own child wasn't going to stand in the way of her enormous heart. So along I would go.  But this time, as an adult, I was choosing to go, maybe in all those years she taught me compassion.  I walked into the waiting room just as my mom, cousins and aunt were learning that there was no hope.  Doctors don't sugar coat things.  I sat with my mom as she shook.  Now the decision was upon my aunt as to when to remove life support.  Obviously, that is a lot of news to take in at once.  The family decided to say their goodbyes and remove him the next morning.  At this point I hadn't seen him.  My mom took my hand and walked me back to the ICU.  I hadn't been in one before and depressing is an understatement. Tubes and beeps and rhythmic breathing. All rooms have the door open and are all glass. I couldn't help but be a voyeur in other people's tragedy.  I saw someone who looked like they had been in a horrible accident, but as my mom lead me in that direction, I realized it was my uncle.
I immediately regressed to being a 5 year old and felt the urge to flee, but the tight grip of my mom's hand changed my mind.  I said, what I thought was my last goodbye, awkward and painful, and couldn't wait to just go.  My mom and I walked back to the waiting room as the others said their goodbyes.  I stayed with my mom until dinner time and asked when she was going to leave, she said she wasn't. And I wasn't going to argue. This is her only sibling, her little brother and she wanted every last minute with him.  They removed life support early Saturday morning.
After I woke up, again I felt a pull in that direction and again I found myself driving there.  What I noticed was that each time I drove there I heard the same song, sometimes on 2 different stations and always as I was in route. It was Home, by Phillip Phillips.  I like that song, but when a song plays at an influential time in your life, it almost becomes stamped into memory and a soundtrack that you can never forget what you were feeling when you heard it.
He survived for 48 hours after they took him off. And my mom never left his side, and I only left hers to go home to sleep and change.  I brought her a change of clothes. She wouldn't leave him even to go to the bathroom unless I was on "watch". This was something that we established after I had had a baby.  She would hold the baby so I could sleep and be on visitor "watch". It was the only time I actually got some sleep in the hospital.
I found comfort in sitting with him. I became glued to his monitors, and my mom and I would go on a roller coaster of emotions ranging from hope, doubt, sadness and for me, fear.  At one point I saw my mom whispering in his ear and giggling.  They had declared him brain dead, but whatever part of the brain controls your breathing and heart, was still very much alive. I saw a glipse of their childhood and couldn't help but feel tremendous anguish for what she was going through.  Both of my grandparents were gone and she and her brother were all that was left of their little family. I don't know what she said.   She told me she felt guilty because we were waiting for him to die, but I quickly assured her that we weren't waiting for him, we were waiting with him.
Friends and family visited at all hours and I learned more about him on his death bed then I knew about him alive.  He had touched so many people.  On the last night I asked the nurses to bring in a reclining chair for my mom so she could get a little sleep, she only said an hour, but I let her sleep as long as she could.  I held my uncles hand and wished I was a better niece, wished I could have said things I should have. Because it is still so fresh I can't bare to go into the details, but I can say that death isn't pretty. It isn't peaceful and it isn't what you see in the movies. At least this experience.  There were some really intense moments that were shared between my uncle, mom and me.  But in this dark cold room, with the glow of the monitors there wasn't anywhere else I wanted to be. I had put my hand under his because he was my space heater and it was freezing in there. His temperature hit a high of 107, but had come down. He was stable.  I even asked the nurse if there was a chance that he may come through this.  She just looked at me and said that miracles have happened. In retrospect, he was on a constant morphine drip and I was tired. But my mom and I both felt he might dodge death yet again. I will value those hours as the finest hours I had with him. As crazy as it sounds I felt like we were communicating on a level I can't even describe. So to answer the question if we were close, well, not until this point.  In the early morning my mom woke up and I left. I planned to return later in hopes that a miracle would happen.  I woke up to a text. My mom had said he had a good night.   I decided to get ready for work, but when Don came into the bathroom with the phone, I knew something had suddenly changed. She read me his stats, numbers that a week prior would have meant nothing to me. I knew I had to be there for her. I arrived and was shocked at how a few hours changed his appearance and when I looked at the monitors that I had been staring it, I couldn't believe what I saw.  What were triple digits were dropping to double digits and now single digits.  I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I immediately stood behind my mom to give her physical strength because I knew I didn't have any mental strength left to support her with.
At 8:45 as my mom and I held each of his hands and his best friend stood at his feet, my uncle died.  My mom had never left his side and even though we knew what the outcome was, it still felt shocking, and way too soon.  She gave him a final kiss and it was over.
I realized my role in his life wasn't until the end.  I have to hope he knew I was there. I certainly know he knew my mom was.
When I left I felt like I had run a marathon. I worried about my mom. Her pain was palpable as I watched her get into her car.
I got in the car and again, the song that kept playing came on yet again.  This time the words meant a bit more.

Hold on, to me as we go
As we roll down this unfamiliar road
And although this wave is stringing us along
Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

Settle down, it'll all be clear
Don't pay no mind to the demons
They fill you with fear
The trouble it might drag you down
If you get lost, you can always be found

Just know you’re not alone
Cause I’m going to make this place your home

 This time when he knocked on the pearly gates, they finally opened, and he was home.

The little tuxedos

About six months ago we were delighted to learn that Don's younger brother was going to get married. To be honest, we had always hoped for this but never really thought it would happen. Not because he is ugly or a player, he is just a loner.  So we (especially my mother-in-law) were thrilled to learn that not only was he getting married, his future wife was awesome and a perfect match.   I don't recall the day that I learned that she wanted all four boys in the wedding, a wedding four states away and a 12 hour car ride. I could have, quite possibly, blocked that out of the forefront of my mind.  I think I still had PTS from our Arizona trip.  Eventually the time came when we had to get them fitted for tuxes.  I have to admit, it was a big huge pain in the butt, but once I saw them sporting a black suit and tie I melted.
We called in their measurements to the tuxedo shop and hoped for the best.
I took a week off of work. That may sound excessive but packing for a hotel stay for 6 people (yes I pack my husband's stuff too) is panic enduring. Who else would coordinate all of our outfits?  I tried to think of every possible scenario, blood, food, shart, which intuativelly all happened.  Road trips have changed since I was a kid.  My parents would set up a bed in the back seat for me, which covered up all access to seat belts.  After learning I couldn't read in the car, I usually brought along my walkman and the cassette tape I had made by holding it up to the TV during several shows like "You can't do that on Television".  After about an hour I wanted to die and I made sure to let everyone in the car know that.  My boys had their iPod touches, personal movie screens and any snack or drink they could ever want. Not to mention all the toys I let them pack. (Parker may re-think his lego set next time).
Don and I even joined the 21st century and bought a adapter to our iPhones.  When the guy at the Apple store asked me what kind of car I drove, I actually turned red and whispered "mini van". He asked me what year. I asked him, "Does it really matter?"  It was compatible.
It was easier than one would think, at least for the kids. For the adults, not so much.  After about 9 hours we were going crazy and decided to get a hotel. Despite our efforts we can never drive strait through.  I think its an urban myth that Don has created in his mind.  We have never done it, regardless to what he thinks.
Unloading all of our stuff requires two of the little hotel carts. Why? Because at least one child insists on riding on one.  Once in the hotel room, they do what every kid does, stand in line to poop.  Once that is over, they jump on the bed and want to go swimming.  I conveniently forgot my suit but remembered to pack Don's. ;)
After a sleepless night with some kid sleeping horizontally on the bed, we went down to the free hot breakfast. Parker had to hold his glasses up because he forgot to put them on the nightstand and Fin rolled over and smashed them.  I feel that we are a side show. People stare at us and I honestly don't know why. I  made my way to the coffee first, while Don searched for a high chair which was never found.  The sweet southern lady said " I see you have four little blessings".  I laughed. First because it sounded so cheesy, second because I was slap happy, and third because at that moment they felt more like a curse.
After they loaded their paper plates with food they wouldn't eat we sat down to a family breakfast.  It isn't hard to notice that we never do this. We sit down for dinner together, sometimes lunch, but never breakfast and now I know why.  Maybe its the early morning or the excessive togetherness, but the boys are fighting over bacon and cold hard boiled eggs.
Don seems to be ignorant to the yelling and whining and decides to make himself a waffle. He doesn't even like waffles, but that waffle maker gets him every freaking time.  He returns only to set a frenzy of waffle envy and 4 little mouths that also want waffles and guess who got to make them?
Once we made the 45 minute task of getting back in the van, we eventually made it to our destination. First we had to stop at the mall to purchase new glasses for Parker, which naturally were not under warranty and we couldn't "tape" them for the wedding.  The brides mother had prepared for us. She had a hospitality suite with every food they could want and games and toys.  Oscar preferred to run up and down the hall ways and despite my pet peeve for children who do that in hotels, I let him.  He loved it, and only got on a vacant elevator and pressed the up button, once.
The next few days were a blur. The rehearsal went as I expected it to. If I had a dollar for every dirty look my father-in-law gave the boys I would be able to support my Starbucks habit. Now I know where Don gets that "look" from and even I was a bit intimidated by it…unlike my sons.  After watching them skip, hop, moonwalk down the aisle in rehearsal I was worried about the next day. Very worried.  I wondered if she now regretted her decision.  My mother-in-law decided to have the rehearsal dinner at Dave and Busters. Good idea..in theory.  This place is like an adult Chuck E. Cheeses.  I don't possess the strength to keep the boys away from the hypnotic pull a video game has. And I am talking about Don too. * I will touch on this in a second.
Finally the wedding day came. We decided to have the little boys try on their tuxes. Jack's was ok.  Oscar's pants were more like capri pants.  Back to the mall we went.  What is odd, is that he isn't really in the wedding, he is only in a tux for the pictures, seems like a lot of work for a picture.
Prior to the wedding, we had several pep talks and at this point I was promising them anything they wanted. A new $500 app? Sure! Build-a-Bear? Absolutely!
I hired a sitter to take care of Oscar during the wedding and reception.  The best decision I have ever made in my life. I was able to chat with Don's best friend and Fraternity brother and learned some things about Don that I wish I hadn't. * In college, he did a 3 day non-stop video game playing binge only to stop to tie his bandana tighter around his head and to pee.  I also learned that no matter how convincing I think I am, Phillip was not going to fill me in on the secret fraternity handshake either. The wedding was outside on a beautiful golf course overlooking homes you only see in movies.  I was seated in the second row, conveniently located right behind where the boys would be seated.  The music began. Don walked down second followed by the other groomsmen and bridesmaids. I must admit, my husband looked pretty hot and I kind of regretted flicking him off at the free hot breakfast this morning when he decided (yet again) to make a damn waffle.  I suddenly had butterflies as there was a brief pause in the procession. And then I saw them. Single file, each holding a ring bearer pillow. I was overcome with emotion. They looked so handsome and they were doing such a great job. Nothing like the rehearsal. By the time they reached me Parker glanced up and winked and I simultaneously started crying.  It hit me that in just 15 or 20 years that could be them.  That can fly by. It has been 12 years since my wedding and I can tell you every detail, including what my Dad said to me right before we stepped out, or the feeling I had when I met Don by the alter.  I wondered if they would still get excited to talk to me after school or in that case work. How will I feel when there is another woman at the top of their list?   All of these thoughts clouded my mind and before I knew it, the wedding was over and they were headed back down.
The reception was great. Fin was the first one on the dance floor and the last one off.  Oscar did his version of a moshpit with a woman's leg which resulted in a bloody lip, and a bloody tux.  Jack fought with Parker and Fin about who got to slow dance with me first.  Jack won and we danced, which is more like a hug but rocking back and forth. I made a couscous effort to never forget this moment in time when I can hug them in public and when I am their leading lady.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see my mother-in-law dancing with the her youngest son who was now married. They too, looked like they were hugging more than dancing and I saw how happy she looked.  There seemed to be a sense of pride and contentment in her smile as she realized that her work was done. The long hours, or homework, baseball games, road trips and a million lunches has brought her to this point, dancing with her son at his wedding and retribution that it was all worth it. She doesn't have any doubt that her son will treat his wife with respect and unconditional love. Her second son certainly does.  It is a love he is familiar with because she has been showering him with it since the day they met. A day, to her that seems like yesterday. I glanced down at my youngest who, at this moment was seated at a table with his brothers eating cake. I took a snapshot in my mind so when its his turn to take a bride I can revisit this moment. Confident, knowing that if he brings her just a quarter of the happiness he has brought me, she will be the luckiest girl in the world.