midwife's muse

About life

Life is full of coincidences, they happen fairly regularly to my daughters and me. I'll have an idea and then one of them will phone me with the same thought, easily explainable really, we have close relationships and spend lots of time together so our thought patterns will often follow the same track. Sometimes though a coincidence will happen which, if it has any explanation, is extremely tortured, yesterday was a good example.
It started with a phone enquiry, a funeral directors wanting a quote for some works. After taking the call I was musing about things, funerals, death, really upbeat sort of thoughts and started me thinking about Mum-in-Law. I've blogged about her before, she has a form of Alzheimers and they believe it is Lewy Bodies and has spent the last two and a half years in a specialist nursing home close to us. Last year we had to sell her bungalow, funds were running low for her care, which didn't come cheap, and of course, because she had worked all her life and bought a home, she was not entitled to any financial help from the state. Apparently, even though she could not care for herself, feed herself, was doubly incontinent, required turning every four hours because of her bed-sores and could longer communicate, or even remain awake for more than a few minutes a day, she was not ill and therefore didn't qualify for requiring 'nursing' care. Off the point here but I suppose years ago 'nursing care' would have described what she did require, total care to remain alive. Hubby always visits her twice a week, just sits next to her bed, holds her hand and chats, he had been there on Monday, as had her second husband, she had her eyes shut, drank her tea when the spout of the feeding beaker was placed on her lips, no change in her condition Anyway back to the coincidences, there I am cogitating about MIL viz a vie funerals, would she be cremated, where would it be? 'Where' seemed quite problematic, she had spent the last 29 years of her life living on the South Coast and that is where her first husband's ashes are interred, since his death she had remarried but Paddy would always remain the love of her life. Then I mentally traversed back to funeral directors and thought how it would be good to use the guys who had instigated my morbid thought processes, always nice to be able to deal with a known quantity. Last night Hubby and I were watching the documentary about Helen House, I was doing my usual, when watching programmes about really sad subjects, huge lump in my throat, lips clasped firmly together, sniffing and eyes prickling, when the phone rang, bit late but everyone knows we go to bed around midnight so had no qualms about answering it, it was the Nursing Home wanting to speak to Hubby. Even whilst he was listening to the manager his responses gave nothing away, my thought was that she had fallen out of bed or developed an infection and perhaps they were sending her to hospital. This belief was heightened when Hubby asked if he could come, would that be allowed? I was wrong, MIL had died. They had found her dead when they had gone in to turn her, no warning, nothing, we had all expected some lead up to her death, a chest infection, something, not this peaceful exit from a world she had lost touch with. Hubby went down to the home, he declined my company, he wanted time to himself, time alone with his Mum but he asked me to phone his Sister and Stepfather.
Here we are today. Hubby describes his emotion as relief, he had hated seeing his proud, intelligent, well-groomed Mother lying there in what he knows she would have called a living nightmare. It was the best way for her to go, no more suffering, no decision making about treating infections and then, perhaps, having to watch her die slowly, and who would know in how much pain and discomfort. Nothing is straight forward though, not even the death of an elderly lady. It was 'unexpected' so it is a coroners case, I suppose that means a postmortem. Whilst Hubby was there last night a Policeman came to inspect the scene, her body could not be moved until the constabulary had attended. Until we hear from the coroner we can't begin to organise the funeral so basically we are just waiting for the phone to ring, seems somehow wrong, Mum's died but we can do nothing, just carry on as usual.
So there is a real example of co-incidences, mid-morning phone call, my musings on a theme and then MIL dying. Just as an addendum though, when Hubby returned home from saying goodbye to his Mum the programme on TV was about W.H Auden, and as he sat down they started reciting 'Funeral Blues', I leave it here as my farewell.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crépe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song,
I thought that love would last forever: 'I was wrong'

The stars are not wanted now, put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
 

7.3.07 13:41