Thank goodness days are far and few between that I wallow in a pity party over widowhood. I wouldn’t advise any new widow or widower to follow the path I took. Looking back, I wonder how I every made it through. Over the last three years, the one thing I’ ‘ve never wondered about is “Why Me?” Our futures are all unknown and the “Why’s” aren’t ours to choose.
If anyone had reason to question “Why Me?” it was probably my mother. Born 102 years ago tomorrow, she was the oldest of four daughters. Born to first generation immigrants from Russia, her German parents and grandparents ran a tight ship. From what I’ve been told about her life, the only thing they didn’t run short of was the work. She was raised in the same sea of vines as me. The main difference was, she never found a way out.
In 2007, she was feeling her age. After finding “Dr. Perfect” in the run down little coastal town in which she’d finally settled with my dad, it was decided that she needed an carotid endarterectomy.
According to the Mayo Clinic,
“A carotid endarterectomy is a procedure to treat carotid artery disease. This disease occurs when fatty, waxy deposits build up in one of the carotid arteries. The carotid arteries are blood vessels located on each side of your neck (carotid arteries). This buildup of plaque (atherosclerosis) may restrict blood flow to your brain. Removing plaque causing the narrowing in the artery can improve blood flow in your carotid artery and reduce your risk of stroke.
In carotid endarterectomy, you receive a local or general anesthetic. Your surgeon makes an incision along the front of your neck, opens your carotid artery and removes the plaques that are clogging your artery. Then, your surgeon repairs the artery with stitches or a patch made with a vein or artificial material (patch graft).”
Stroke.
At 86, that was my mother’s chief worry. Although her arteries were somewhat clogged, the “Physician” convinced her that she would feel right as rain after this procedure. He convinced her to have the surgery on March 30, one day after her 86th birthday.
She walked 3/4 mile to the hospital with my dad. They were avid walkers, walking at least one mile every day.
She jumped up on the hospital bed and gave us all assignments for the day. After all, her surgery would only be two hours. Just two short little hours we’d meet up and we’d all walk back home. Or so she was assured by the “Doctor”.
It was a Friday. We all completed the assigned tasks while mom waited for her 10:30 surgery which was delayed until 2:30. On a Friday afternoon. In a dilapidated town. Finally, off she went, the God fearing woman she’d always been.
At 10:30 pm, we were finally informed that there had been a “little incident”. It wasn’t such a walk in the park, as my mother had been assured. The “Surgeon” had crimped the artery, leaving the left side of her brain without blood and effectively killing it. He was “very sorry”. She wouldn’t be waking up. No walk home. No laughter about our assignments. A “Physician Induced” stroke. The very thing she was trying to avoid by having the surgery.
Thirty days later, after the hospital complaining that she really wasn’t “Actively Dying”, she did actually die. She never regained consciousness during those 30 days, but because of the hospital “incident” , her DNR (Do Not Resuscitate) was ignored. The very papers her husband of 67 years had rushed back home to retrieve before they would perform the surgery.
My mother would’ve never said “Why Me?” She was brave and bold. I would guess that “Doctor Fancy Pants” needed to learn some lessons that only my mother could teach him. He never came to see her during those 30 days in the hospital. I know because our family never left her side. There was someone with her 24/7 listening to the obnoxious noises of the machines that kept her alive. We were told he traveled to Hawaii the morning after he killed her. A planned trip, you know. I’m sure he never once questioned “Why Me?” because it wasn’t him. Just an old lady that didn’t make it. Just something that happened.
Between three sisters and our heartbroken dad, never once did we question “Why?”
Farming taught us all so many things. There are some things that you can make right. A broken pipe? Stuff it with oranges and duct tape it. A tractor with a broken front axle? Stick a 2/4 in the joint and drive home on 3 tires. Wet raisins? Dry them out. A backed up septic tank? Caustic Lime.
But, a lamb that dies in the night leaving the mother with mastitis? Rain on your entire crop of raisins? A loved one that gets cancer? Somethings are not ours to know the “Why’s”, or even begin to understand them. It’s best to work towards acceptance.
When I tell this story, people ask the obvious.
“Did your Dad sue?”
No.
Dad lead our little pack through the nightmare, reminding us that money would not bring HER back. It wouldn’t make anything better. Robbed of HIS lifemate, he lead by example. There would be no law suit. No horrible hospital scenes. No threats or ugliness. We would sit by her side until she was gone. And so, we did just that.
Losing VST seemed that unjust and unfair. Nine weeks isn’t even an entire season. I Just 63 days, we went from buying a house in a dusty little town off the interstate on the high plains of Northwestern Nevada to going to sleep alone as a new widow on a Wednesday night in Virginia City. Even then, “Why Me?” wasn’t the question.
For me, the real question will always remain, “Why Not Me?”
No matter how bleak the situation became, and those days were as dark as they get, there was always something hopeful in the horizon. I hope that my kids learned something from watching the struggles and victories I’ve made. Even though my dance hasn’t always been the most graceful, it was REAL and MINE to dance.
Here’s the deal. Sometimes, the absolute absence of reason must be accepted. Cancer, a rogue doctor and other terrible, unthinkable things don’t happen to everyone but can, in fact, happen to anyone at any time.
Why my mother? Why VST? Why my students? Why do bad things happen to undeserving people? They just do. All part of life, leaving grief as a constant companion, shadowing us while towing the the excess baggage.
These experiences are opportunities to grow in faith, hope, and love. Beauty is present in the saddest of times. Working towards the acceptance of “What Is”, the miracle of “What Was” and the excitement of “What Will Be” can be more fully appreciated.
As VST would surely remind me, “You can’t get nowhere on yesterday’s train”.
Happy 102nd, Mom. Enjoy heaven!!
Whatever you do today, try to replace questions about the past with focus on the “Right Now”. Spring is a beautiful time of year. Go out and enjoy the day!
More tomorrow.