I finally have a moment to sit down and write - catching up on all that has been happening here since my mother passed away.
Mallie is home sick today so I am forced to be home and do the writing I’ve been waiting to do. This all took place the week before Thanksgiving.
Let’s see…where to start. Okay, so we were in show week. This was the Fall production of the Farmington Youth Theatre. I was going back and forth from hospital during the day to the shows at night and back for some time with Mum in the evening. It was amazing that she was as alert as she was. Although it was difficult to understand what she was trying to communicate – she could only “mouth” words – I worked hard to understand her – it was hard on both of us.
I was able to spend some wonderful quiet time with her, knowing we were at the end of the road. I was able to thank her for all she had done for me and she was able to thank me for all I had helped her with, these past 3 years. Those were moments I will treasure the rest of my life.
As that week progressed, and she remained on the ventilator, it became clear that I needed to make a decision. I started asking a lot of questions to as many nurses and doctors as I could. They all seemed to agree that Mum would not last long without the added breathing help. I began to call people to ask them to gather with me on that Sunday evening.
At first, Paul (my brother in NC) was reluctant to come, preferring to come only for the services. I reminded him that maybe she needed to see his face before she left this world. That helped him make up his mind and both he and Jenny started driving up Sunday morning.
In the meantime, Mallie and I – this was Mallie’s first “big” part in one of our shows – were performing in “Music Man” – she was Amaryllis and I was stage managing – Stephen was preparing for a concert on Sunday afternoon at the Grand Ledge Opera House (near Lansing) and the Warners were on their way to be with us. It was a really crazy time but our community of friends really held us together through it all.
Sunday morning came and it was an unusually foggy day. It made me hum… “A Foggy Day in London town” and I realized that this could be that last day my mother would be with us. I took time to watch the sunset, between shows, that day. Again, to savor how later that night my life would be changed forever. I realize this sounds dramatic but my mother always took the time to notice such things.
Sunday evening, Mallie and I left right after the last curtain call and drove to the hospital; Paul and Jenny had arrived about an hour earlier. Della, Mom’s close friend, was there as well as my friends, Lisa and Kori. The Warners were there too so we had a nice little crowd in the Family Waiting Room. Mum, all this time, had been in an area of the hospital that we had never been in before. The Special Care Unit is a quiet area reserved for special needs patients – lots of vent folks. It is a quieter atmosphere with no hustle bustle, no clanging of food trays, no loud talking…very restful. A unique experience in a hospital! We had brought a CD player and cds earlier in the week.
I walked into Mum’s room and the “Wizard of Oz” was playing on her TV. I hadn’t even realized she had one in her room. We asked her if it was okay to turn it off and put on some music. We chose a lovely cd of classical flute music performed by Sir James Galway and his wife. The nurse, Rob, told me that he was surprised that I had made this decision as, he thought, Mum would survive the night and maybe into the next day without the ventilator. I was shocked and really scared that I had made a horribly bad decision. He had me speak, by phone, to the attending doctor – a doctor who had treated her in previous years – a respiratory specialist. He too seemed a little reluctant for me to act. WOW! What was this about? I now realize that no doctor likes to admit defeat in the face of Death. He told me what I already knew – that if Mom survived that she would be in an even weaker state and that she would require much more homecare. Stunned, I walked back into her room. Paul was there.
I told her – by the way I never called it a “Ventilator”. I referred to it as the “Puffer” because I didn’t want to alarm her. I told her that she might be able to breath a bit on her own and even speak to us. At that, she closed her eyes and turned her head a little. I noticed and told Paul that I thought, “She has made a decision.”
Everyone came in to kiss her and tell they loved her. Mallie even came in and gave her a hug. They had untied her hands and taken out a couple of lines so she wasn’t as scary looking. At that point, I acted as translator for Mom as I knew what she wanted to tell Mal. Mallie went back to the waiting room and Mom started to mouth the word.."when?” I told the nurse we were ready and we left to let them remove everything – feeding tube, vent, IV lines, everything. After about 10 minutes, Rob came back in and told us that she was ready. Paul and I went to her room alone.
Now, to jump back a bit, a few weeks earlier, I had been at Mum’s house. On the TV news there was a story on some famous person who had died “surrounded by his family and friends”. Mom had commented, ”Oh that’s gross!” I laughed and said that I thought it sounded nice.
Back to Sunday night - Paul and I settled on either side of her and each took a hand to hold. They had given her a shot of morphine and had put an oxygen mask in her face so she would not panic. Her eyes opened very wide, bulging almost, as she took very long, deep breaths. It was very difficult for her but she was not struggling, as we feared. She raised her eyes and looked at the ceiling. Although we continued to talk to her and stroke her forehead she never looked at us again but remained staring up. It was like she only needed our presence with her but that she was already on a journey. Rob came in to ask if we wanted some chairs set up. Remembering that conversation, we both said no and turned our attentions back to her. Within 35 – 40 minutes she took her last breath and died at 9:56pm, 11/22/09.
Rob later said that he was “disappointed” that she had not survived the night. I told him that he did not know our mother and her very strong will! She was at the end and it was an end she could live with – pardon the pun. She had her children there to send her on her way and I can only imagine the arms of my father closing around her as he whisked her off to some wonderful place to sit and talk and catch up on the long years spent apart. I’m crying as I write this but it was truly a blessing to be there and it something I will also remember till I meet up with her again, on the other side.
Everyone – except Mallie – drifted in to kiss her goodbye and I stayed on, with my two friends, to hold her hands and stroke her cheek for another 2 hours before I felt strong enough to leave her. Those two women were a Godsend to me that night.
The next day, Paul, Jenny and I went to Casterline’s in Northville to complete the process I had started earlier that week. As before when Dad died, they were so good to us and we were able to make all the arrangements before 1pm that day. I had followed Mum’s instructions on what to bring and she was laid out in a nice dress – pinned in as it was a size 18 and she was barely a size 4 – her Celtic cross I had given her long ago, amethyst earrings that were her mother’s and, at the last minute, the dragonfly pin my mother–in-law had given her. The dragonfly had become a symbol of my Dad to Mom. After he passed, she often saw a dragonfly light near her and she drew comfort from the idea that that was his spirit reaching out to her.
Tuesday afternoon, we met up at the funeral home for the visitation. We brought lots of “show and tell” about my mother and Steve and I had stayed up quite late the night before putting together two felt boards of pictures of her. One was a black and white board going back in her past and the other was all color shots of more recent times – mostly before Dad had died. Both Paul and I took comfort from the fact that ""Mom" didn't look like our Mum anymore and that what we were looking at was really only her shell. It was a really lovely time and lots of people came to see us, which was a blessing.
The next day was Wednesday and it was a little rainy. It cleared up by the afternoon and we made our way to Jefferson Avenue Presbyterian Church. The cremains of both my parents will be together in the Columbarium, located in the Zaun Chapel. We had the memorial service there and had about 40 people attending. Stephen played a piece my mother loved on the piano. My friend, Phil, talked a little about her – saying that, at Christmas when he attended her parties, she was likea “Mrs. Claus” to him. He then read a lovely poem by Charles Dickens called “Things That Never Die”. We had sung it as a choir anthem last year and knowing how my mother loved Dickens it was a perfect fit.
Things That Never Die
The pure, the bright, the beautiful
that stirred our hearts in youth,
The impulses to wordless prayer,
The streams of love and truth,
The longing after something lost,
The spirit's longing cry,
The striving after better hopes?
These things can never die.
The timid hand stretched forth to aid
A brother in his need;
A kindly word in grief's dark hour
That proves a friend indeed;
The plea for mercy softly breathed,
When justice threatens high,
The sorrow of a contrite heart?
These things shall never die.
Let nothing pass, for every hand
Must find some work to do,
Lose not a chance to waken love?
Be firm and just and true.
So shall a light that cannot fade
Beam on thee from on high,
And angel voices say to thee?
"These things shall never die."
~ Charles Dickens (1812-1870)
Later, my friend, Lisa, read this.. “These are hymn lyrics written in 1918 by Sir Cecil Spring-Rice an English diplomat who served as British Ambassador to the United States . The hymn tune was written by Gustav Holst and comes from The Planets suite, the Jupiter movement. Famous as Princess Diana's favorite hymn, it was sung at her wedding and funeral. It had long been a staple of British school assemblies. In recent conversations, June often talked about her life in England and, although she became an American citizen, she remained an Englishman at heart.”
I VOW to thee, my country
I VOW to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love:
the love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
that lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
the love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
the love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice.
And there’s another country, I’ve heard of long ago,
most dear to them that love her, most great to them that know;
we may not count her armies, we may not see her King;
her fortress is a faithful heart, her pride is suffering;
and soul by soul and silently her shining bounds increase,
and her ways are ways of gentleness and all her paths are peace.
My friend, Michele, put together a very elegant “tea” for the reception afterwards in the Guild Room. A good friend came up to speak to me and I noticed that she had on a lovely dragonfly pin! She noticed my surprise and I told her the significance of the symbol. The day before had been Della’s birthday so, in the car on the way to the funeral, I gave her a present from my mother – the Celtic cross and the dragonfly pin we had taken off my mother’s body as she had requested all jewelry be taken off at the end. I think it was what my mother would have wanted me to do. I guess Jeanne ended up having some words with Della at the reception because, later, she wordlessly came over to me, took the pin off her clothing and pined it to my jacket. The next day I noticed that it was set with marquisette – one of my mother’s favorites.
I believe that was my mother’s spirit reaching to comfort me.
Before all the guests had left, Paul and I went into the sanctuary. We had one last honor for my mother. Stephen played the famous Widor “Toccata” from his Symphony #5, one of Mom’s favorites, on the massive 1927 E.M. Skinner organ. He played it for me and Paul and Mom. Several friends who were still there joined us. It was a fitting ending to a wonderful tribute.
We then gathered back at my house where we ate and drank champagne in my mother’s honor! We also had samples of my mother's favorite liquor, Sabra.
The story does not end there as Paul received bad news only a few days later. Paul and Jenny had started the drive back to NC right after the reception. They finished the long car ride on Thanksgiving so as to be home with Gracie and Nikki. On the following Monday, they received word that Jenny’s brother Chip, who had not been feeling well for several days, had driven himself to hospital. He died there. He was 48. So tomorrow, Saturday the 5th, the four of them will be in Hanover, MA to attend his funeral. What a blow.
I can only hope that Mom was there to help him “over”.
Now, we have about 6 months to get Mum's house ready to give up. Although it will be a hard process the one bright light in all of this are all the journals I am finding. Mum wrote journals her entire life. I am thinking of compiling them into a blog for others to read and enjoy, at some later date. She had also spent the last three years writing about her life in England and the War and it is something it read her thoughts and “hear” her voice again.
Here is her obituary as it read in the local paper..
June P. L. Randall, age 84, a longtime resident of Livonia, passed away on November 22, 2009. She was born June 12, 1925 in Kennington, London, England to Gilbert and Lillian (Arnold) Parma. As a teenager June served as a Civil Defense Telephonist during the London blitz. She became a “GI” bride on October 23, 1945 when she married Leonard Randall a member of the US Army. They were happily married for 60 years until his death in 2006. She worked at the Detroit Public Library; June helped inaugurate an audio-visual department and pioneered record cataloging rules. June worked to establish library service in Livonia; she formed the first Friends of the Library group and served on the Library Commission for 10 years. She was very active in the PTA from local to state level; she received the Michigan Life and National Life Awards. June also received the key to the city of Livonia for all of her help and hard work. She was an avid reader, loved music, and had a passion for cooking.
She is survived by her children Paul (Jennifer) Randall and Celia “Rose” (Stephen Warner) Randall-Warner; and her grandchildren Grace, Nichole, and Mallory. She was preceded in death by her parents and her husband.
A memorial service was held last Wednesday at Jefferson Avenue Presbyterian Church in Detroit. Rev. Peter C. Smith officiated the service. Contributions would be appreciated to the
Leelanau Conservancy, PO Box 1007, Leland, MI 49654 or
CARE, PO Box 1871, Merrifield, VA 22116. Arrangements by Casterline Funeral Home, Inc.
