Thanksgiving Letter to Liberty and More -2022

Thanksgiving Letter to Liberty and More- 2022

This is a mottled grab bag of love, grief, and gratitude. 

It has been 295 days since your homegoing.  Some Days it doesn’t seem real, and other days I wear your passing like a shield. Much has changed, much of it is good.  I live in Amarillo in a tiny apartment with only Monkey (Frankie) as my companion.  I find that I have much to do and yet there is nothing to do except to get lost thinking about you.  Taking care of you was a blessing that definitely kept me busy.  In hindsight, I realize that the most painful part of letting you go is what I am most grateful for today.  I rarely wake up on a pill schedule any more, though I still reach out for you in the middle of the night.  Loving you through all of your medical needs is one of the greatest beautiful and hard things I’ve ever been a part of.  I am grateful for the long hard road we tripped down. 

I wanted to write to you during this time of thankfulness. 

 

 I am grateful for the chance to be your Mom especially since I wasn’t supposed to be able to conceive a second time.  I am grateful that you made Mariah a Big Sister. You must be so very proud of the woman your sister has become.  She is a truly amazing person who is kind, strong, determined, hard working, and hard loving.  She is the other half of my heart.  I am grateful for the times that you teased then loved your sister and your cousins.  I am especially grateful for the time you put the tarantula in your sister’s bed. 

I am grateful that you are exactly who you are throughout your life.  I am grateful for your laugh- even when it changed. I am grateful for how you love Rachael and your grandparents.  I am grateful how you love all animals and are going to be our very own  Steve Irvin. I am grateful for your love of being outdoors. I am grateful for the movies you will watch with us over and over.  

I am grateful for your memory and love of music. I am grateful for your love of art.  I am grateful for your love of hawks and wolves. I am grateful for the way you love your aunts and uncles. I am grateful for the community you created who love and support you.  I am grateful for how you cried and laughed when you need to.  I am grateful that I was able to hold you most nights in those last months. I am grateful I got to hold you when you began sundowning. I am grateful for the hospice caregivers we brought into our lives.    I am grateful for the time you were with us as a healthy Liberty, and after your body and brain changed. I am grateful that I have a memory of all of this and so much more.  I am grateful for my friends and family who let me talk about you, and those who don’t make me talk about you.

I know I was and am  blessed in so many ways for loving you.  Thank you.  Libby, please keep coming to visit us.  Please.  

https://youtu.be/KiypaURysz4 “Holy Now”

In case you are wanting to visit with Liberty, or want to sit in peace she now has a tree planted.  It is perfectly  planted in the south side of St. Andrew’s church grounds.  I am deeply grateful for David Stidham who heard what I needed and took care of getting it planted. It is a hybrid of four different kinds of apples that will pollinate itself.  Praying that this tree flourishes.  I need it to, so very much.  

 

The time around Thanksgiving has always been my favorite part of the year. In the last few years it has been a bit of a struggle.  Even with multiple stumbling blocks we’ve always been able to come together, or mostly together and celebrate.  In a year of firsts, my Thanksgiving will be in Amarillo.  It will be hard, different, but it will also be blessed.  I know some of the changes I have made have been hurtful, and for that I am sorry. As so much has changed, I needed to change as well.  I am grateful for my loving and accepting community.    

Now about the food…

I am going to share some of our favorite things.

Today would have been the 106th birthday of your GG (AKA Great Grandma/ Geneva Farley Bumpus).  The month of November belongs to her as all the fun we shared creating the Thanksgiving meal together.  She reminded me often to enjoy my time with both you and Mariah as our time will be short- much too short.  One of our favorite times in her kitchen was making the yeast rolls. You and Mariah would dip the hot buns into the mashed potatoes and gravy. We all loved those rolls. Sadly, I was not given that recipe, but I believe I have one that is close.  This first Thanksgiving I will be having the bread. Here is the closest recipe I could find.   Grandma's Old Fashioned Yeast Rolls

My godmothers, Aunt Gina and Aunt Verna, my fraternal Great Aunts loved to make different twists on family dishes. Most important was finding and crafting different recipes to share with their community of church ladies.  I was lucky to share weekends between my Grandmother and my Great Aunts, and sometimes with my cousin Tammy. One interesting variety I remember was being in the kitchen and perfecting a cranberry chutney recipe.  It was an interesting departure from the canned cranberry that I enjoyed.  This recipe is similar to what I remember.  (They may have made this for their Christmas meal; I can’t remember for sure.) This chutney is so good and you mix and match many of the spices to meet your tastes.  

Cranberry Chutney

I adore sweet potatoes.  I like them baked.  I like them fried.  I like them in the can or straight  out of the garden.  I will put them in salads, soups or as lovely sides.  I LOVE THEM!  Oh the happiness when I found this wonderful recipe for a casserole.  You can alter how much of the pineapple you add in, or you skip it all together.  It can also be altered into a souffle.   You can adjust to make it less sweet for your needs.  I love the crunchy and savory addition of the chopped pecans.  Almonds work as well.  I just wanted to share some of my favorite things along with the memories.  

Sweet Potato Casserole 

Libby loves Pecan Pie.   Loves it.   That is one of the pies that she would let me have the crust and she would ravage the innards. Both she and my Grandmother loved this pie even though it is always terribly sweet. They loved it.  There are many places that offer a great Pecan Pie, but I like the ones I have found at Sam’s.  They have a good bakery and offer huge pies.  Between holidays, I would buy her the little individual pecan pies and it never took her long to eat it all!  This last few years when Libby didn’t chew or swallow very well, I’d throw a piece in the Ninja and away she’d go. Especially when I was trying to keep weight on her.  Sweet stuff for my sweet little stuff.  

Pecan Pie

May you eat your fill and love more.  

Be blessed my friends. Until later, know that you are loved. 

Nine Months of First

 Nine Months of Firsts

I pray that the words of my heart ring true and offer healing, forgiveness, and hope. 

First February and Mariah’s birthday without Libby.  First Spring without Libby.  First Easter. First Mother’s Day without Libby. The first end of a school year.  First Summer without a family vacation altogether.  First New school year. First every day.  Every day is truly a day without Liberty, and some days that is very hard to reconcile when I am growing and healing on my own time. I am so very blessed to have an honest relationship with Mariah who has her own journey to traverse with her sister in her heart.   She strengthens me; she is a force to be reckoned with every day.

So much has changed in my world, and I know that I have been the catalyst of many of the changes.  It has been growing- a lot of growing.  It has also been a lot of aching hardships as I learn how to ride the waves of grief.  Liberty passed away on January 30th  with a beautiful hospice team, her favorite music, and her beloved family around.  So many of her loved ones were able to be there to say their farewells and offer support.  It was hard, and it was lovely.  I could not have asked for it to be more peaceful as she passed.  

Slowly my body is resetting, and I am no longer waking up multiple times a night to give Libby her meds or check on her. Now instead of getting up or reaching for her, I say her name and tell her I love her. I was blessed to have been part of her care team.   This time last year I knew Libby would not be with us too much longer.  Memories of last year are either convoluted or terribly clear.  There are many things I do not remember or don’t want to. For months, I would wake up mid-anxiety attack and/or crying. I knew my world was crashing and all I could do was what I could do: love the kid and support the others who love her.   

It was the letting go with grace and faith that was hard.  This hardness hits on and off like waves but hit full tilt in the last couple of weeks as my birthday approached.   It took a while for me to realize that the heaviness I felt was the fact that I am still here and Liberty’s is not.  Parents are not supposed to bury our children period. Losing a child in any way should not be part of the roller coaster we call life.  And even though it was a peaceful and perfect homegoing, it was still going away from our girl.  The child we all fought for and pushed to keep her happy and comfortable for so long is gone.  Still, I remain grateful to have been a part of her journey.  Grateful.

I am putting that heaviness off, as I cannot undo or change the long, hard, and blessed road we all traveled beside Liberty.  Now, we all need to forge new paths without her physically here.  Since April, I have made some big changes in my life.  These changes were for me to create a way to grow and heal.  After over 13 years of being a caretaker, I needed to be able to find who I was and try on the new growth my spirit was craving.   

I moved out of Happy and got a place for me to live in Amarillo. I have never lived alone.  Never had a bathroom or a closet to myself. It has been a blessing and a new kind of being.  I am learning to simply be in my space.  I enjoy being close to the church, school, and even stores, but  I miss the open spaces in Happy, the beautiful friends, and the community.  I miss my dogs and other animals, so grateful to have Monkey with me in Amarillo.   

My move caused many people I love pain, and for that I am sorry.  I needed to breathe and heal my own pains. I needed to go. I separated from Rachael.  In therapy, I have learned that two disparate things can be true, such as I didn’t want to hurt anyone,  and yet I needed to go for myself.  Completing the steps to end our relationship was hard.  We had many, many years growing together.  Now I pray that we can each grow strong as the individuals we are capable of being.  

   

I changed my job as well.  I went from teaching Advanced Placement English Literature and Dual Credit to returning to my first love in teaching: Special Education.   I am a co-teacher for several wonderfully talented teachers.  My learning curve has been huge; I love the challenge.  The world of Special Education has changed greatly in the last 15 years, so I have great things to learn. I am trying. My short-term memory is not great partially due to grief.  I am excited to keep trying and learning in this new position.    

https://music.apple.com/us/album/graves-into-gardens-studio/1524503069?i=1524503568

 

I pray that all that have loved and cared for Libby can grow and continue to share the love.  As this is my first birthday without her, may we all keep moving forward in love and hope. Every day is a day without Liberty, and yet she is always with us.  I have carried this grief in a pregnant heart as we step past the nine months of changes.   I am sorry I have not been sharing for so long.   Been doing the work and processing it on my own time.   Thank you all for your support. 

Waves

In February, I had a talk with my principal and blessedly, he listened. I am continually blessed by my campus and cohorts.  I had been trying to find a way to get a transfer or a change in assignment.  I knew that this discussion could have gone several ways. I didn’t want to leave my school, but I needed the change.  Another change in a barrage of healing and grieving,  Another change to mirror the way I have changed.   

 I needed out of the coveted position of teaching AP Literature.  I have loved and enjoyed the students and the AP style teaching strategies, yet I wanted to return to my first love of teaching students with different abilities.  For months I haven’t known what or where I would be teaching next year.  I have been specifically praying that I would be placed where I am needed and where I needed to be.   

I am a planning, list making, checking off the boxes, get it done on time, but what if, kind of chaos manager.  Facing the unknowns in my career was disconcerting and a little exciting.  

I realize that I have lost my self-confidence and quit listening to my own intuition.  I have not been listening to what I needed for a long while, mostly because I was honed into what Liberty and the family needed.  The little voice that kept telling me that I needed a change in my professional world also told me that more changes were coming. My intuitive inner voice has been awakened! 

(More about changes later.)

 One of the things I have been doing to exercise that intuitive siren within me is part of my swim training.  I have been closing my eyes while swimming laps. Goggles on, belly button, and forehead in line with the long blue stripe on the bottom    At first, it was unsettling.  With repeated attempts, I have become comfortable trusting my body’s rhythm with the forward crawl. When in doubt, I can simply open my eyes to ensure that I am within the safety zones of the lanes and I am not running into the lane ropes or other swimmers. When in doubt, I check in with my body if I am within the safety zone of the lanes.  

This is similar to being on the track where I can run or bike and have to be hyper-aware of anything except what my body is doing.  I can completely zone and pray and contemplate whatever my brain offers up.

https://youtu.be/zIC_9CI-FVw  My current favorite artist.

Just like so much in life, if I can continually trust my faith and my intuition whatever is going on will be ok. By limiting my visual stimulation, I can zone completely out and “hear” what my heart and brain need me to listen to.  I have had many “Libby squeezes” where I feel that she visits. A cacophony of emotions roll over me and then I have a knock-down drag-out over catching my breath.  These waves of grief just have to run their race, just as I do.  As the Libby squeeze subsides, there is a peace that brings hope and returns love to me. 

 Having your heart squeeze with grief and love while in the water is a different experience.  If you haven’t cried and laughed while swimming with your eyes closed, I recommend to not recommend it.  Just try to make sure to not swallow copious amounts of water. 

Still taking Kitty with me. 

You are loved.

Liberty whispers

When I knew that Liberty’s time was bgetting shorter, I tried to make a list of what would help everyone (me) deal with letting her go. These little gifts are what I cling to. Here is part of what I came up with:

1. Sing her favorite songs with abandon

2. Love on one of her favorite “babies”

3. Wear outfits that she liked

4. Notice butterflies

5. Find birds (hawks and others)

6. Watch a show or a movie she enjoyed

7. Hike for her

8. Play in  water

9. Howl at the moon

  10.Dance ridiculously

Whatever it is, I NEED to feel her presence.  This part is important as the ache I have with her not being physically here is overwhelming.  

The missing of Liberty is an expected guest at this point. Never know when it will arrive.  I miss her. I miss taking care of her.  I miss carrying her. I miss feeding her. I miss bathing her.  I miss her smile. I miss her eyes shining at me. The only time I’ve felt really pretty is when Libby told me I was pretty. I miss sleeping next to her and counting her breaths over and over again.  It is in the missing of her that I can be lost.  I held grief and fear at bay while taking care of her and loving on her.  Now, I have so much less to do.  Sometimes it is like a tidal wave of missing rolls through me.  My throat constricts and my heart races.   My eyes leak.

These Liberty attacks are still there, but now I try to breathe through them.   I acknowledge the missing has come for a visit.  I have to let this guest in, so that I can continue.  And I’m trying.    

What's Your Grief? has some great articles especially the information about secondary losses. 

Scars In Heaven - Casting Crowns (Lyrics)

You are loved.

Burnout

Beautiful painting created and gifted to me by an equally beautiful sophomore: Irakozi Chantal.  

She is amazing.  This is "Exhale".  Thanks to Micah Muehlhausen for making this painting possible.

For all who are taking care of their loved ones:

In my memory, my mother was sick: having more off days than good ones.  She fought depression, diabetes, addiction, arthritis, and Lupus. Some days she could pull it together and others she couldn’t. Grandmother and I tried to take care of her when she was home.  She was diagnosed later in my teen years, so that helped me figure out what she needed.  Her stubbornness taught me how to be the caregiver that called to schedule appointments, to get meds refilled, to try to keep meds organized, and so on.  

As my Grandmother began aging, I learned more caregiving skills.  By this time I had both of my girls, so I would bring the girls over and take care of what she and often my mother needed to be done.  As Libby got older and her diseases raised their hideous heads, I would load her up and head to Grandma’s. There were several years that I would take my lunchtime to go and help Grandma bathe.   Then I’d get home and bathe Liberty.  Once we got a rhythm and a schedule, it was a beautiful time in my own sandwich generation. It was stressful, but it was also a gift to help my Grandmother in such a personal way.  One great side effect was seeing exactly how much Liberty and Grandmother were alike.  :)

Now, I realize, that I have been caretaking for a long time just as many of us have been doing.  I know I am not alone here. We, the caregivers, keep adding on and adding on our responsibilities until we can’t anymore: emptying our batteries day after day because we are needed.  Week after week. Year after year. (I have not been alone. This is my perspective.)

The time we had with Liberty was a gift, and it was hard.  It’s not that there wasn’t help with Libby.  There were many who helped along the way. I did so much of her caregiving because I chose to.  Once we started Hospice Care, I know I went on high alert with Libby.  Hyper-vigilant in many ways because I didn’t want anyone else doing it for her.  Because I only had one chance to love her through the end of her life in the best way possible. 

There were times when I would just cry out of frustration with Libby knowing that she wasn’t being difficult by choice.  Knowing that she wasn’t being difficult because she was angry with me.  It was her body.  It was her disease. 

There were times I would yell- I am not a yeller at all.   There were times when guilt moved into my body because I was too busy doing things instead of paying more attention to Libby. There were times when my anxiety flooded through me because I was doing something that didn’t have anything to do with Liberty: running or training. Sometimes jealousy and resentment overtook me as I was not able to do the same activities other people got to do.  I went to my first coffee house last week to hang out with friends.  

Caregiver burnout is a real thing.  I am tired.  And empty.  My short-term memory isn’t working.  My body reacts oddly to emotions.  My sleep is weird, but that is beginning to get a little better, thankfully. I’ve been holding myself and my life together for so long; I am tired. I’m ok, and I’m drowning.   Sometimes I am prickly and don’t realize what my face is saying. There is often a weight in my chest that keeps me from breathing.  May have misplaced a large majority of my self-confidence. I find myself being more honest or not speaking at all. I am tired. I’m ok, and I’m drowning. I’d like to eventually find myself just being me.  My batteries are empty, and I am trying to find ways to replenish them.

For years, my time at school teaching has been my safe haven.  I have poured so much of myself into that part of my life.  That was for me. Just for me.  I selfishly poured and poured and kept my teacher self separate.  I realized I could continue to be who I’m meant to be and still be her mom. I could have little bits of joy and not be guilty. I also have open roads where I find solace, whether I am running or biking.  Now I am extra blessed to have a church community who have also created a safe haven for me as well.  Whether I am at school, church, or an empty road, I can be prickly and still be loved. I pray anyone who is caregiving finds those safe-havens. 

Little video of sharing the love with a group of senior citizens two of my classes have adopted. 

Here are a few links about caregiving:

Caregiver Burnout

The burnout tips are solid.  

Resources for Caretakers

Great resources

I am so grateful for all of my community who have surrounded me and supported me through so much. Caretaking is one of the hardest and most beautifully blessed messy things I've done.

Play this one loud so maybe I can hear it...  Many have been through so much in the past few years, let's learn to let life love us.  

Blessings! 

ileana Twig 

**Addendum: many of us are still caretaking after our loved ones have passed on.  That's also a legitimate form of caretaking.  We can't take care of or loves in human form, so we continue.  You are also caretakers who need to consider the fatigue and burnout that can occur.  Please find ways to recharge your batteries, my beloved friends. 

Want to Want to

I apologize now for how egocentric this post is.  Wanted to share how fear, stress, and grief can affect us.

It is nine weeks since Liberty left her physical presence.  It feels like twelve years ago and also yesterday.             

Waking up reaching for her. Waking up panicking because I forgot to give her meds.  Rushing to the car after the last bell at school, only to remember that she doesn't need me anymore.  Still going to the fridge to warm up her meal to realize it is no longer needed.  My body still waking up on her pill schedules.

(We heal ourselves with much help.)

It is strange and beautiful how my brain is dealing with grief.  My grief is like a pressure cooker filled with jelly jars.  I think it's in control and it sneaks out oozing sticky sweetness on the stove.  Other times it explodes without warning and my throat constricts and I cannot breathe.   Not a fan of losing control of my emotions in that way.   Grief is a sneaky, sticky bitch most of the time, but I am grateful to know and recognize her when she joins me. Looking at me I am healthy.   I work out.  I eat mostly healthy foods.  Looking deeper I have used exercise and controlled eating to hide the neglect in the rest of my body.  I have believed that whatever everyone else needed was more important.  (Don't think I am alone in this thinking.) 

Between December and January, two of my teeth broke off almost to the gums.  My teeth have always been an issue as they are weak and painful.  I carry a great shame about them as nothing that I and various dentists have tried has been very successful.   I was focused on caretaking and teaching.  I ignored the pain and ended up with an infection.  I told no one.  I have been to a new dentist twice in the last two weeks and have several more appointments to get the damage and my recent neglect handled.  I am grateful for a beautiful friend who mentioned this wonderful dentist to me. 

I want to want to be better to myself.

After three years, I went to get my eyes checked.  Have been so afraid of how bad my eyes have been getting that I have ignored them since we went into lockdown in 2020. Also discovered that I have real issues driving in the dark.  I now have new glasses and I am grateful although it is hard getting used to wearing them.   I want to want to be better to myself.

This section may not be in poor taste; my apologies. 

In May of 2021 when Libby started Sundowning,  my monthly cycles went crazy.   For several months I had five to ten days BETWEEN cycles. Did pass my yearly check-up under the hood up in August. I have been proudly a machine following a schedule for a decade or more.  These last 11 months have been unpredictable and draining.  I have some fear and much shame about any intensive medical exams or procedures.  Thanks to another beautiful friend for the recommendation I have an appointment with an OBGYN this week.  I want to want to be better to myself.

I have struggled with ulcers since I was 12.  Interestingly, since May, my emotions have lived in my belly and burned along with my heartburn. I tend to hold my voice and swallow many emotions. I know I need to get my guts checked. That is coming in the next few months.  I want to want to be better to myself.

"Who you are to me"

My mental health mirrors the neglect in my physical body.  All that time with Libby and I never considered how I would survive letting Liberty go.  I have been carrying around resentment,  shame from childhood and early adulthood, guilt, and my current loud and obnoxious passenger: grief.  Know I need to not be in a caregiving role for a while.   I feel like I am drowning personally and thriving in the classroom. I could not ask for more understanding teachers and students around me.  In that, I am truly blessed.   When someone asks me how I am doing, I say with joy, "I get to be at school today." I mean it.  School is and has been my happy place. I continue to be blessed to get to teach.   Once again, I have been blessed by a dear friend who gave me the name of a counselor and I have an appointment coming up this month.  I am grateful and scared.  I just want to want to be better FOR myself and everyone else.  

"You Say"

I am trying.  Willing to try to be better.  I have to believe in the promise I have in my faith.   I made promises to Libby that I want to keep.  

Sorry this is so much about me.  Just working through my shit one appointment at a time.  

You are loved and you are worthy of taking care of yourself.

twig

Four Weeks

Happy end of February,

As of today, it will be four weeks.   Four weeks of feeling everything and yet nothing.  Four weeks of waking up and forgetting and then remembering.  Four weeks of missing Liberty and yearning to love on her one more time.  Four weeks of trying to understand what I'm supposed to do with all my free time. What am I supposed to be doing?  Loving and caring for Libby kept me very busy.  Now, I have a hole in my time. 

I have this recurring deep ache in my torso.  It feels as if there is a literal hole that burns and hurts.  Then I can't breathe. My throat clenches closed. I can't think past the unadulterated missing of her. Finally, the tears come. Eventually, I can swallow again. I'm calling them Liberty attacks. Like all things Liberty, I cannot predict when they will hit.

And it's okay.  It's good to feel the hard emotions too.  I spend a lot of time being numb which is beginning to fade- gracefully. My brain isn't holding some thoughts as long as it used to, grief fog is real for me.  I am blessed by the people I work and worship with as they continue to reach out to me and offer hugs and understanding.   It helps.  Not sure how to carry this grief, so I'll embrace all the support I can.  

I do not want to become stuck in the sad cycle.  I don't want to see my laugh lines become grief lines. Been holding my breath for many years, pleading to keep Libby here and healthy.  Think I need to find ways to love the life I shared with Libby and to continue to love life now. 

In the past, I have said "I am broken" after whatever painful event occurred, but I don't really think we become broken.  I think that we bend and bend and bend like a tree. And sometimes we may feel broken.

 

 

We, meaning me, tend to let the daily pains and/or struggles build up until we have to either bend or break.  As yoga and life have taught me, I get stronger when I bend.  Like the trees in the Texas Panhandle, we bend to the winds. When I think of the many ways I am blessed to be able to do so I have a small idea of the grace we are offered.    

Thanks to a student who told me about this cool kind of fixing pottery: Kintsugi.  There is a cool story attached to this method of filing in and then admiring the preciously scared broken pottery have.  The Japanese have found a way to fill in the broken parts of the pottery with gold, which is much like the grace offered to us.  You see, we may bend and sometimes break,  but with whatever faith we embrace, our scars can become beautiful opportunities to grow. https://www.lifegate.com/kintsugi is a cool site to check out.  This time of missing Libby makes me feel like I've been stripped of the powerful love we shared.  I need the reminder that she is with us- with me.  Taking Sparkles and Kitty out helps a lot.  These scars of missing her will be ones I wear with honor.  They will become what I showcase.   

While healing, I think it's a good idea to let life love us.

A song to help soothe https://youtu.be/nKBkdp_gCCs

Two weeks

Not sure that there any words to share how grateful I am to everyone who has prayed, meditated, saged, texted, called, emailed, came by, and attended the Celebration of Life memorial.  We are truly being held in the most amazing and needed embrace through many years, but especially in the last month.  

If you didn’t get it, here is the link that has the slideshow that Rachael put together, the playlist, and the obituary. 

https://docs.google.com/presentation/d/1psESxIHLfry3UPEagpR07Lz2SzTc_idT93UdUT2EdDA/edit

Truly.  Thank you. The last month was hard in an Sisyphean way.  

I wanted to share the last 26  hours with our girl.  This is not meant to be sad; it is shared with an open compassionate heart. 

Saturday, January 29 was a long, sad, and beautiful day.   We had so many people come to the house to sit with us and love on Libby.  She was able to FaceTime with my brother and one of her best friends in Happy. My beautiful cousin and her awesome husband came from Tulsa.  We spent the day eating, laughing, and some crying.  

This was day 11 of no eating and barely any drinking.  She was not really responding at all.  Her heart was still pumping, but she was leaving us. 

We all told her it was okay to go. 

Our night was restless.  Instead of every two hours, I woke up about every hour.  I’d wake up nervously, hand in her belly counting her breaths.  Counting and knowing how close to the end she was.  Rachael gave meds at 2:00 am.  At 4:00 she was struggling more to breathe.  This time her body was completely lax. 

At 6:00 am I have her meds and snuggled in for a little bit, then got up to start the day.  I’d been working out on the kitchen, quieter in there, and going in the check on her every ten to fifteen minutes.  I went in to check on her at about 6:45.  She was noticeably gasping in little breaths. I knew it was time and I couldn’t move.  I wanted to give her my breaths.   Inside I was screaming, “stay with me” and “don’t go” even though I knew it was time.  I muttered something about the promises we had made that she would let me know that she THERE and okay and  the promises our God has made to us.  

7:00 I went to get Rachael and gratefully she made it into the room for the last few breaths. 

We moved her into the living room onto her hospice bed.  It’s hard to explain how the emotions pours out and yet there was nothing.  Couldn’t breathe.  Couldn’t stop loving on her. Kept messing with the blankets and  other such bullshit. 

Notified our hospice team and waited.  

Her official passing is 9:00am. It took our wonderful nurse a while to get to Happy and get the paperwork started.  Our Spiritual Care Deacon/guru Mildred guided us wonderfully.    Cannot say enough about our hospice team!!

Most importantly for me was the cleansing and anointing that needed to be done. There is a beauty in the familial cleansing of our loved ones.  In the way many women have come together to prepare their recently departed loves. 

 With our sweet team and Grandma Linda, we sang her songs.  We cleansed her body.  We prayed to rejoice in her accomplishments.  We prayed to mourn the children, and love, and life she wouldn’t have in the mortal life.  We rejoiced for the love and accomplishments she will have in this next existence.  I let her go with my broken heart and full of faith in the promises given by the God of my understanding.  We sang on.  

We anointed her with oil that I have that smells like the mountains she will be flying over and beyond.  

We dressed her in her bright red shirt that had the Statue of Liberty on it and said “be a lady” because hell yes. 

It’s probably crazy, but I couldn’t stand anyone else lifting her.  I did it.  I tucked her into her blankets/sheets as I couldn’t fathom a man touching her.   My mommy powers were in full form. 

I helped place her in the van. 

I would have chased that van all the way to Canyon and demanded that she be given back to me, but it couldn’t happen.  She had already left.  

After the van pulled away, there was a group of birds flying over and I said, “Hi Libby.” And went inside.   

Rachael moved the hospice bed out of the living room and we took a few long deep breaths.  

https://music.apple.com/us/album/broken-horses/1577159552?i=1577159680   “Only broken horses know to run”   I can see her galloping away…..

The handwritten “I love you guys” is one of the last good samples of Libby’s writing.  And it’s true; she loves you all. 

Be blessed and know we all have the most special angel pushing us forward. “On and On”….

Libby’s Willow

We have bought many trees to add to our property beside the house.   Many trees.  Trees of all kinds. Whole trees- saplings- seeds- all of it.   We did research and planted another and another variety.  None of them really took.  

Until after her diagnosis in 2012, Liberty asked for a willow tree.  She wanted it because of Harry Potter’s “Womping Willow”  not because willows are my very, very favorite trees.  

This tree grew.  And grew. Flourished.  Truly flourished.  We would sing concerts to the sister tree during the summers. 

We adorned Her with fairy lights that Libby loved.  Strand after strand after strand.   Until someone cut several of the light strands, it was a gift to drive home after school and Libby would be giggly over all the fairies living in her tree.  

So, we built a fence to protect the tree and the fairies. The willow with the fence. 

In the spring of 2021, I noticed that her tree was not leafing the way it had in the past.  I refused to talk about the decline of Libby’s tree with Rachael.   Refused.   I didn’t know why then.  

Now I know that the tree was telling me what my heart couldn’t handle.  That damn tree was still hanging on this fall with only a few branches clinging with any leaves to offer to the fall.  

Just like her tree, Liberty is stubbornly hanging on.  Today, January 28, is the tenth day that Libby has refused food and water.   Her beautiful heart has been at race pace for days now.   She is beyond tiny.   She is no longer responding most of the time.  Her body is done- her heart isn’t.   

She’s still pushing against the wind. 

https://music.apple.com/us/album/against-the-wind/1440879556?i=1440880091

We’ve told her it’s okay.  We will be okay.  Blessedly, so many have come to tell her she can go.  Yet, she’s holding steady.   Her Grandma Geva and Papa are waiting.   Damn these stubborn genes.  

This is terrible.  Grateful for the time.  For me, this level of decline has helped me reconcile letting her go.   She has earned her Liberty ten fold.   

In God’s Time and Libby’s Stubborness

Going through this hospice process with Liberty is beautiful and yet terribly hard. It’s a lovely chance to cover her in love, and yet, it’s hard. Watching her body decline is terribly sad.   But I prayed Libby into this world, and I will continue praying her out of it.  

We met with our clergy last weekend got  her Celebration of Life and Home going planned.  So grateful to have that mostly done. 

We wanted to be in school long enough to get our students back into the groove of the day to day schedule.  I found myself anxious to get to school and anxious to hurry and get home. While at school I cherished the time with my students and yet, wanted lots of updates on Libby.  My heart was stretched to want to be with both.  

Here’s one of Libby’s favorite songs to lighten this update: https://music.apple.com/us/album/piano-man/158815463?i=158815547

This week several things fell into place: teacher volunteers to cover recycling, Care Closet and Snack Shak for our campus and the right people to cover my classes.   (Cannot tell you how much I’ve worried about making sure the people who need the food get it while I’m out.  It’s going to be okay.)

Every day for the last two weeks she has changed in some small manner.  As of Wednesday, the 19th, Libby is refusing food.  She is also declining almost all liquids.  Thursday she would not even take her crushed pills for me.  (I was a bit dumbfounded.  She refused anything from me!  The nerve…) 

For the last three days, she is no longer taking  her meds five times a day. She is getting her seizure med and a small

Relaxant.   That’s all. My days are completely off.  That five time a day schedule has been engrained in me for over 13 years. I’ll need to get retrained. 

I believe she has had her final shower as I’ll move to giving her bed baths.   So many of the  Caregiving activities, like showering and shaving, are more to make me feel comforted and needed, not because it’s vital for Libby. I can let some of that go. 

I know this is part is all part of the Hospice process. It is not about our typed out timeline or our expectations.  It’s really between God and Libby. I can envision the back and forth arbitration  happening. Libby saying, “I’m not ready” and God replying, “you can have a wolf at your side every day…”. Or “I’m ready” and God responds, “not yet. It isn’t time.” Either way, I know there’s some push and pull going on.   I mean- it’s Liberty. 

Liberty is the epitome of STUBBORN which I say with a smile. It’s partly her stubbornness that has kept her here with us for so long.  Now she is in negotiations and whoever “wins” won’t really matter.  We will love her out as fiercely as we have fought for her. 

Starting Monday we are home with Libby.  I have very few days to take, but  I’m not going to concentrate on that aspect.  Right now I am right  where I need to be. Being with her is vitally important right now. 

Thank you all for your ongoing love and support. 

Docile and Compliant

 We have been blessed with several very lovely holiday get-togethers.   Libby loves to have her people with her.   She is such a rock star.  

Sharing some raw realness. I don't know if there is a step-by-step guide on how to do this.  Surely there is a section in the parental learning manual titled, "How to completely lose your shit while your child dies"  or, "How to gracefully let your child go."  These are my current steps in no order.  

1. Be angry.  Be very pissed. Tattoo guilt on your face. Ask all the whys. Wear righteous indignation like the emperor's cloak.

2. Try to handle the anger by doing online research and then regret it immediately.

3. Be envious of other parents who have healthy children.  Why is life so damn hard?

4. Also, be envious of those who have successfully raised their children and are empty nesters. 

5. Immediately feel guilty for #4.   Try on grace for a long moment. 

6. Doubt everything you've done as a daughter, mother, wife, friend, and human.  

7. Blame the illness on everything from the Purple Tella Tubby to Crop Circles to passing a curse on genetically. 

8. Try to race ahead of the typhoon of grief, make a list, and then feel like you're drowning; dream repeatedly of water.

9. Lose the list, or throw it away because you can't hold a thought in your head and suddenly realize it doesn't matter.

10.  Ask "How much time do we have?" Register the look from the Hospice Team and not ask again because who really knows.

11. Walk into three rooms and not remember why I went to any of them, or I'll Pick up an old toy and carry it around the house for no reason.  Did I start the load of laundry?   Try to give her juice again?  Are the bed room doors closed?

12. Get my shit together and try to work on school stuff.  

13.  Regret spending any time not focused on my child.   Remember to trust in faith.

14.  Escape from the caregiving because you cannot breathe and then regret not being there.  

15.  Look online for support groups, support articles, anything to remind you that you are not alone.  Anything that shows that other Mommas have survived this.  

16 Read articles about grief and anger and caregiver burnout.

17. Start another conversation about the future plans for your kid and swallow those words like you've been starving.  

18. Get more sad than angry.  Go silent.

19. Discover that you have worn your daughter's old bra all day and never noticed it- just felt vaguely uncomfortable.  Tell her about it and get a blesssed giggle.

20. Constantly look for any signs of the ugly insidious approach of her passing, and beat myself up when I think I have missed something.  

21.  Ask how I am supposed to survive this.  Is that the expectation?  Just need the rules.

22.  Try to hold on to faith and sunlight.  

23.  More rambling crap to incoherently follow...

Libby's body is moving through the stages as her body gets smaller and smaller. She still gives us giggles and some smiles, which I am ever grateful for.  She is spending more time staring blankly; I think she is listening to KT Oslin, Johnny Cash, and now Betty White.  

We have the Hospice bed now which is keeping her much more comfortable through the days in the front room.  I've been surrounding her with her pack of babies.  This gives me solace.

  I need to change Libby's name to Docile or Compliant.  She is refusing to eat or drink very much. I am a Southern Momma who wants to feed EVERYONE, but not this kid.  She is 100% Liberty.   She is not able to stand on stiffened spastic legs to help us transfer her from chair to bed and bed to chair.   Her legs are now not responding.   Still spastic, just not load-bearing.  The slow and steady decline is no party and isn't for the weak of heart.   But here we are.  As for now, she is still herself and I pray she knows how loved she is.  

Liberty and all of her beautiful stubbornness- “Broken Horses” https://music.apple.com/us/album/broken-horses/1577159552?i=1577159680 

Liberty turns 25 next week.   Trying to plan a celebration that won't wear her out and can keep everyone safe isn't easy. I do know that I'll be asking for small hygiene products for our Care Closet and/or monetary Snack Shak donations.  Will continue to give and serve as we can.   Grateful to be able to be ugly honest. Here is the announcement   We will ask for safe considerations of our girl.

Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.