My condolences to the Anteaters

[manic mechanic]

Good people,

I learned yesterday that Anteater's mother passed away on April 3rd.
She had been ailing for several months and succumbed to congestive heart failure at age 87.

I experienced a similar scenario 6 years ago when my own mother passed away and was blessed with an enormous outpouring of support from friends. I thoroughly believe that all of you race fans "saved me" with the prayers and support that came my way and think that we should be her "built-in support group" just as all of you were for me.

Say a prayer for the Anteaters. They are great people and true friends.

peace,

manic

[trish]

I'm sorry for the loss of your mom Anteater and family.

[nrc]

Yes, sincere condolences to you and yours, Anteater.

[TravelGal]

Both the Anteaters have my deepest sympathy. I see my own path heading this way so I begin to understand the searing loss you feel now. I think you probably have my phone number but if not, just PM me if you ever want a sympathetic ear. Sometimes knowing others care and just blubbering it all out helps. If there is anything I can do, in any large or small way, just let me know. :(

[SteveH]

Sorry for your loss, Anteater.

[Ankf00]

I'm so sorry.

[Indy]

My condolences to you...

[G.]

Very sad news, S.

:(

[WickerBill]

It is a very difficult thing to go through. Be strong.

[Don Quixote]

:(

[dando]

Sympathies to the Anteater clan on your loss. :(

-Kevin

[RaceGrrl]

I'm so sorry for your loss, habibti... thinking of you and your family today. :(

[Anteater]

Sorry for the long delay in acknowledging this thread; thanks so much to my dear friend Manic, and to those who have expressed their condolences. Your support means so much to me and my family!

The past couple of years have been very difficult for me. The trouble started 3 years ago, when my mother broke her hip. She had a hip replacement, but there some complications that resulted in a month-and-a-half-long stay in a nursing home. Mom recovered from that pretty well, but she was weaker than she’d been previously.

Two years ago, I lost my job when the place where both I and my husband worked shut down. It was a 40-plus-year-old test site where a lot of important aerospace testing took place (rocket engines, the lunar module and space-based laser). I loved my job, and the people with whom I worked were the finest coworkers you could ever hope for. But the powers that be, in their infinite wisdom, decided that they were tired of paying the high rent for the site’s land, and had the place razed to the ground:
http://www.ocregister.com/news/site-158672-grumman-northrop.html

My husband was able to save his job by relocating to another test site 150 miles away. He stays out there during the week, and comes home on weekends. Suddenly I had a lot of time on my hands; I figured I’d find another job soon. But then my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer, and was starting to show signs of dementia (I recognized them, having been down that road earlier with my father). She recovered physically from surgery, but the anesthesia wiped out what was left of her short-term memory. I became her part-time caregiver, paying her bills, stocking her pantry and medicine chest, driving her wherever she needed to go, and generally trying to do whatever I could to keep her entertained. Eventually I hired a couple of caregivers to help out. Mom was embarrassed by her mental shortcomings, and refused to see anyone in her social circle. After a while, everyone sort of forgot about her.

In February, Mom developed congestive heart failure. I’d promised her that she could stay in her home as long as she was safe and comfortable, but it was becoming obvious that it was time to consider other living arrangements. My days were devoted to monitoring Mom’s health and trying to find a good board & care facility close to me, as I was getting pretty tired of the 70-mile roundtrip drive to & from my mother’s house. I found a beautiful place operated by a doctor; we were all set to be a team to help Mom regain her health. I signed the contract, wrote the check, and told my mother about my plans. She seemed to accept the news pretty well. Then she told me, “I had the oddest dream last night—it was so vivid that I couldn’t really tell if it was a dream. There were moving boxes all over my living room, and I saw the box with my wedding gown in it.”

3 days later, I was driving to an appointment when my cell phone rang. It was the manager of the home care agency. She asked me if I was driving, and told me to pull over and park. Then she informed me that the morning caregiver had arrived for her shift, and discovered that my mother had passed away in her sleep. Thank God she’d told me to pull over--I pretty much lost it. Then I pulled myself together, called my sisters and husband, and drove to my mother’s house. The police were gone by the time I got there, but my sister was there, along with a trauma counselor. Together we went in to see our mother. It was a beautiful spring day, and there lay Mom in her lovely sunlit bedroom, looking as if she was just sleeping peacefully. She’d left this life exactly as she’d entered it: in a bedroom in a home.

That night I came down with the flu; for 2 days I had a fever of 103. The slimy funeral director at the local mortuary called me and started haranguing me about funeral arrangements, even though my sister had told him that I was ill and not to bother me. I found a better mortuary, and told Mr. Slimeball that I was transferring Mom there. He informed me that there would be a charge of $1700 for storing my mother’s body for 4 days, unless I had her transferred to one of his mortuary’s affiliates. Having RaceGrrl’s story about her horrible experience with a mortuary still in my mind, I was dreading the meeting with the new funeral director. But that funeral director treated me nothing but kindness and compassion. She even suggested ways to save money, and had someone call Mr. Slimeball and convince him to drop the $1700 charge.

Mom’s service was beautiful. I could never get her to tell me what she wanted in the way of final arrangements, but we were very close, so I was able to figure out something that would have pleased her and have meaning for the family.

I still have trouble believing that Mom is gone. I find myself thinking, I must tell Mom this, then I catch myself. I know she’s in a better place and is no longer suffering, but it’s still hard at times. Yesterday I went to her house for the first time since her death; when I saw her empty recliner with her cane propped next to it, I was overcome with grief. But then I went about the place, collecting items for an upcoming Celebration of Life that a friend is having in Mom’s honor. Soon there will be moving boxes all over the living room, including the box with my mother’s wedding dress…

[nrc]

Wishing you peace and comfort getting through this difficult time, Anteater. I know doesn't make it easier for you, but I don't know many who would wish to go any other way than peacefully in their sleep at home.

[TravelGal]

I'm so choked up as I read this. What a time you've had. You write so beautifully. I'm sure the service was beautiful as will be the celebration of life you are planning.

I think most would agree with da boss; it's the way to go if possible. Emotionally accepting it, is another story. My suggestion is when you feel like you want to tell her something, do it. Even say it out loud. The love connection is never broken. Remember, call or write whenever you want. Marge

[Thunder Rose]

Susan,

Lisa (Mrs. Manic) here. I don't post much on this forum, but I had to tell you that your sad, but beautifully worded story had me in tears. I admire you for your strength through everything.

I am just now embarking on a similar journey with my own mom and your experience is valuable to me. I thank you for sharing and wish you peace, love, and all the good things you deserve! Hugs until I see you in Monterey!

[Michaelhatesfans]

Haven't checked in for a while - very sorry to hear of your loss, Susan.