I did not think this day would come anytime soon. When the time came—when the time came for my mom to pass on—I thought I would be not only be accepting and ready but would welcome it with open arms. After a decade with Alzheimers, after two years bound in bed, and after months of barely able to sculpt even a word, I thought I was ready to see my mom breathe her last breath.
But when the end came, the surprise, shock, and sadness were unmistakably there and I was silently urging my mother to keep fighting to breathe. In the end, it was her lungs that took her from this life as most everything else was still running smoothly and strong. She smoked like a chimney, so when she got pneumonia in late April, her diminished lung capacity made it hard for her to breathe, to get the oxygen needed to be present. But I expected a full recovery as she had reacted almost immediately and positively to the antibiotic treatment. She was still physically strong as a horse, for example, during this hospital stay, three of us had to hold her down when we did various tests.
But one day to the next her blood pressure plummeted. Since I was unaware of this, I thought she was just (and finally) sleeping deeply after two days of barely doing so. After 8 hours of barely moving, the nurse let me know that in fact her vital signs were dim as were her chances of living. That evening, I crawled into bed with her for one last night together. Finally the next morning, as I was stroking her face, I witnessed her final breath.
This is what I read at her service.
[...] Interprete » The end of a (V)era gabriellacoleman.org/blog/?p=1992 – view page – cached I did not think this day would come anytime soon. When the time came—when the time came for my mom to pass on—I thought I would be not only be accepting and ready but would welcome it with open arms. After a decade with Alzheimers, after two years bound in bed, and after months of barely able to sculpt even a word, I thought I was ready to see my mom breathe her last Tweets about this link Topsy.Data.Twitter.User['techdrops'] = {“photo”:”http://a3.twimg.com/profile_images/650025771/code_normal.png”,”url”:”http://twitter.com/techdrops”,”nick”:”techdrops”}; techdrops: “Biella Coleman: The end of a (V)era: I did not think this day would come anytime soon. When the time came—… http://bit.ly/9K5Jhr #debian ” 9 minutes ago view tweet retweet Topsy.Data.Twitter.User['planetdebian'] = {“photo”:”http://a1.twimg.com/profile_images/139043236/debian_normal.png”,”url”:”http://twitter.com/planetdebian”,”nick”:”planetdebian”}; planetdebian: “Biella Coleman: The end of a (V)era: I did not think this day would come anytime soon. When the time came—when th… http://bit.ly/dsjgqk ” 9 minutes ago view tweet retweet Filter tweets [...]
Pingback by Twitter Trackbacks for Interprete » The end of a (V)era [gabriellacoleman.org] on Topsy.com — May 11, 2010 @ 5:12 am
My thoughts are with you, Biella.
Comment by Alycia — May 11, 2010 @ 11:37 am
I’m so sorry, Biella. I’m really, really glad you got to be with her at the very end.
Comment by riana — May 11, 2010 @ 12:36 pm
I wish you to carry her strength with yourself in this difficult time.
Comment by fred — May 11, 2010 @ 2:54 pm
I’m so very sorry for your loss Biella. Thinking of you . . .
Comment by Micki — May 11, 2010 @ 5:10 pm
What a lovely tribute to your mom. You’re all in my thoughts.
Comment by Gladys — May 11, 2010 @ 5:39 pm
A lovely tribute, Biella. And what a photo! The dolphin story, too, is amazing. As is your mom’s coming to find you when you ran away to sea. She sounds like quite a person! I hope you and Micah can take some time away this summer, just to yourselves. I’m so very sorry for your loss.
Comment by Meredith McGill — May 11, 2010 @ 6:12 pm
biella: I am so sorry. it was brave of you to post about this and let your readers know what’s going on–I’ve been wondering since I didn’t see you at roflcon. What a wonderful daughter you have been.
Comment by Lisa nakamura — May 11, 2010 @ 8:39 pm
This brought tears to my eyes. I can feel the intensity of your love for each other. I’m sorry for your loss.
Comment by lilly — May 11, 2010 @ 8:52 pm
Sending you many warm hugs, Biella. We are thinking of you.
Comment by David Hobart — May 12, 2010 @ 7:18 am
Your tribute and comments at the service are beautiful. I must admit that in my old age I had forgotten some of the stories. It is wonderful to have them back.
Love,
Papi
Comment by David Coleman — May 12, 2010 @ 9:03 am
My heartfelt condolences, Biella. My grandfather had Alzheimer’s, so I know what an unbelievable strain it puts on the members of a family. And the mixed sense of relief and loss is very familiar to me as well. Sending you my best wishes, Julian.
Comment by Julian — May 12, 2010 @ 9:40 am
The last time I saw dolphins was on a southern tip in Africa: it was an orange-goldglow evening when the dolphins swam by in a hilarious pod, tossing themselves up to heaven; we held our breaths; hailed their appearance with delight. While I never knew Vera, I see her now, (metamorphosed by a slippery move she made when you were 15), propelling herself upward and back into a floating flight. And I thank her luminous spirit for her brilliant daughter…
Comment by Martin Scherzinger — May 12, 2010 @ 10:03 am
My condolences biella
*hugs*
Comment by pabs — May 12, 2010 @ 8:23 pm
What a great gift you leave for us, Biella. It’s so nice to read these beautiful stories about your mom and you.
Comment by Jelena — May 18, 2010 @ 1:13 pm
i love that she showed up a boat in Belize w/o notice, and then you two went traipsing about mayan temples.
so awesome.
thoughts with you
Comment by alex — May 23, 2010 @ 1:38 pm
Thank you for sharing the sad news. You are in my thoughts.
Comment by Looby — June 11, 2010 @ 10:56 am