Saying Goodbye To Mom

Mom (my brother Isaac's picture)

John brought Mom home Friday. 

This afternoon we say goodbye to Mom. 

I'm at my brother Isaac's computer now.  It's still dark outside.  The time is 6:30 am.

This is the first opportunity since I arrived at Mom's home to update my blog.  Friday and Saturday I stayed at the Hampton Inn in Lionville.  They have a computer but I could only access information, not input information. 

As anyone who knows me and regular readers of this blog know, writing is my therapy.  My blog is my therapy.  Because I haven't been able to write since I arrived in Pennsylvania, I'm a bit off kilter. 

This will be a brief posting.  Isaac is up.  John and Barb are still sleeping upstairs.  They will be up shortly.  Once we all wash up then we'll go out for breakfast. 

Services for Mom will be this afternoon at the James J. Terry Funeral Home in Downingtown. 

We'll go in to say goodbye to her at 12:30.  The viewing is 1:00.  John will perform the services at 2:00.  Then we will begin Mom's final trip to the Hopewell Methodist Church Cemtery on Hopewell Road, just down the road a bit from Mom's home.  That home will be Isaac's home now. 

Bill is coming up today.  He will not attend the services.  He ca n't take funerals.  He's still getting over the loss of his dogs over ten years ago.  But he wants to be here when Mom takes her final trip. 

I'm not sure when I'm going back to Delaware.  Maybe after the services today, maybe early tomorrow morning.  I'll have to see how I feel after we leave Mom who now will lie next to Pop at that grave site that she so often visited the past ten years since he died in August of 1980.

This day will be interesting. All of us have done pretty well in holding it together. 

I thought I might lose it yesterday when I attended my 51st class reunion.  That was a coincidence.  I wasn't planning on making a special trip in attending that reunion which was at Hoss's Restuarant, right next to the Hampton Inn.   But since I was up here I thought "Why not?"  It would take my mind off of Mom for awhile. 

Several of my former classmates came up to me and expressed their condolences.  They had seen Mom's obituary in the Daily Local News.  I thought I might get blubbery but I didn't. 

Today will be a different story when me and my brothers stand in the receiving line by our Mom, welcoming relatives and friends saying goodbye to their friend Betty, Aunt Betty, or "Mom-Mom", as she is know by her five grandchildren and eleven great grandchildren. 

Today will also be closure.  Nineteen years ago, when I attended the untimely death of my good friend Alice was the first time I realized the importance of our unique funeral tradition of our western culture. 

It is not for the deceased but for the survivors.  For all those who knew and loved her to pay their final respects and bring to closure this chapter of their lives.  I know for myself, I will never be the same. 

My brothers and I are one of the fortunate children of this world who had a mother who was the best mother anyone could have had.  If me and my brothers could have chosen a mother, we could not have got a better mother. 

Mom literally devoted her whole life to Pop and her "three boys", as she always used to call us.  She never did for herself.  She only lived to make our lives better.

As my cousin Jackie (the son of Mom's older sister Grace) often said "I don't know what Grandpop Hadfield did to those Hadfield girls but they all spent their lives only for their family." 

My Aunt Grace had two sons, Jackie and Charlie.  My Mom's other sister Jeannette (who is 93 years old and living Simpson Meadows) had one daughter and four sons.  All three sisters spent their whole lives for their husbands and children. 

Yes, we were all so blessed to have these three sisters who grew up without a mother to be such wonderful mothers themselves. 

Today we will say goodbye to Mom. 

Memory DVD

My cousin Bill Tipton, my aunt Mabel Tipton, Mom and my aunt Peg (Bill's mother)

The past couple of days I've been running around trying to buy a Phillips DVD digital camera frame.  I'm planning a montage of pictures of my Mother for her funeral.

The Walmart in Rehoboth and Dover both display the Phillips digital camera frame that I want but they have none in stock.  Figures.

I wanted to do more for my Mother's funeral than just display a picture of her.  I will do that and I have just the perfect picture.  But I do like these Memory DVD's that I've seen at some funerals.  Since I have so many pictures of my Mother, what better time to display her life than when we pay our final respects to her?

Finally, I gave up and checked into my iMovie maker on my new Mac.  Guess what?  It does everything I want and more.  I can add as many pictures as I want and I add my own music.  The best part is that I don't have to pay an outrageous sum of money to have this DVD made.

I just saved myself $99 from buying the Philips digital frame.  The funeral home wanted $199.99 for their service to make one which could contain no more than 25 pictures.  I have way more than that.  Plus I choose my own music and I don't have to use the generic music and graphics that comes with the purchased service.  Sometimes things just work out right.

Mom is still under hospice care.  Even though she's under medication she has a difficult time sleeping at night.  John and Barb aren't getting much sleep.  Sometimes you wonder why some of us have to suffer like this at the end of our life.  The more I see my Mother suffer the more I'm convinced that will never happen to me.  Ironically, all her life she feared that at the end she would be a burden.  She is not a burden.

Remember the song "He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother?"  Every time Mom apologizes to John for being a "burden", John tells her "You're not a burden Mom, your my Mom."  And she is, bless her dear sweet heart.

I'm going to finish this DVD tonight and send it off to John and Barb tomorrow.  I hope they show it to Mom.  I would like her to see just what a wonderful, full life she has had and how much she is loved.

You Really Can't Go Home Again

Bill and I visited our former home in Pennsylvania today. We just got back home here in Delaware a few minutes ago. All I can say is that we're still in shock after discovering the advanced state of disrepair of our former home and property.




The grounds were totally unkempt. I don't believe the hedges were ever trimmed since the say we sold the property on November 17, 2006. Fallen branches and debris litter the lawn at every turn.



The fish ponds are still there but are full of decaying leaves. Much to my surprise I saw two goldfish. God knows how they survived the past almost three years. I feel so guilty leaving them to this fate.



The inside of the house is just as bad. The beautiful solid walnut wood floors that were Varathaned to a high gloss, are chipped and scratched big time. I suspect the scratches are mostly from dog toenails since the owners have a dog. The scratches are extra high near the windows where the dog obviously got excited when someone approached the house.



Most of the walls are half stripped of wall paper.



The rusty wheel barrow I left leaning against the tree because I didn't have room for it in my car is still leaning in the same spot as are many other items I did not remove.



The house is being sold "as is." It is advertised as "needing a little TLC." I would say.



Bill and I were really looking forward to seeing what the new owners did with the house. Now we know. They didn't do much except replace a shower with a bathtub for their daughters' bedroom and make a home office in the space above the garage.



On the way up to Pennsylvania this morning Bill and I were discussing open casket funerals. Bill doesn't like them. They don't bother me. I told Bill the first time I saw a dead body in an open casket was when I was 18 years old and the deceased person was my Uncle John Tipton who died in an accident (he burned to death.) Almost everyone remarked "how well he looked." I looked at him and I didn't see my Uncle John. I saw a shell that he inhabited while he was on this earth. The man I knew was gone. He had departed from this shell (body) he occupied during his time on earth. I had that same feeling today when I saw our old home. It isn't our home anymore. It is a shell. That house and property does not posses the life it did when we were there with our three dogs. As a good friend of mine said about his home before he was about to move "This house used to sing, it doesn't sing now." That's the way I feel now. Our former home doesn't sing anymore. We have a new home here in Delaware and it sings.