tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-49196764051931731552024-03-08T10:41:16.115-08:00From Hospice To Heaven- Caring For The one I LoveMy 34 year old sister named Mary Magdalene Rodriguez was diagnosed with MS in 1998. She passed away on October 29, 2010 from complications due to MS. For the past three years I cared for my sister and I wanted to write about it. We all experienced challenges while her health declined and on June of 2010 she entered hospice. This blog is in honor of her love, courage and strength.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.comBlogger51125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-17000597583904608312011-11-08T22:45:00.005-08:002012-08-14T08:36:31.308-07:00One Year Later<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ar1lh4xUx7E/TroYSN5XW3I/AAAAAAAAAIo/TvzvOKuWouc/s1600/325296_2061243298846_1477595355_31640347_430268923_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Ar1lh4xUx7E/TroYSN5XW3I/AAAAAAAAAIo/TvzvOKuWouc/s200/325296_2061243298846_1477595355_31640347_430268923_o.jpg" width="200" /></a></div> This past October 29, 2011 marked the one year anniversary of the passing of my sister Mary Magdalene Rodriguez. The weeks prior of this anniversary my home felt eery, it felt like the 29th was creeping up so slowly and yet rapidly.<br />
The phone calls started to come from siblings,<br />
"What are you guys going to do for Mary's anniversary?"<br />
"Are you guys going to do anything for Mary?"<br />
Every time some one would ask what we were going to do for Mary, the more anxiety seemed to fill my heart. I know the intentions were in good faith but it did not subside that pain still lingers in one's heart. I would look at my mom, try to smile then ask,<br />
"Well, what <i>are</i> we going to do for Mary mom?"<br />
"I don't know," as tears filled her sad eyes.<br />
"Neither do I," I said as I wrapped my arms around her and just hold her until the tears stopped.<br />
Death is a void that seems can never really be filled, the numbness is finally gone but the pain still lingers. I guess it will always linger, even though I know she is not suffering anymore, no more fears for Mary Magdalene because she's in heaven. No more round the clock morphine, no more feeding tubes, no more infections, changing diapers bed baths,visits from hospice staff, pressure sores and worries of feeling scared and helpless. I should be happy that my sister is in a better place but my heart still aches, I can't feel her familiar bear hug embrace, her smile are only captured in priceless pictures. <br />
I get so angry and guilty at the same time, angry because she is gone, guilty because why would I want her here if she was just suffering. The scar of losing my sister may be healed on the outside of my heart but it's the inside of my heart is were the scar that is so tender is painful.<br />
On the 29th of October 2011, my dad, mother, brother and I went to the cemetery for a prayer vigil and rosary for the intentions of Mary Magdalene Rodriguez. We left some whit e roses with little purple flowers, I sang to her the Sleepy Time Song that I used to sing to her when she couldn't sleep.<br />
My mom got off her wheel chair and gently touch her plaque as tears ran down her face with trembling lips she said,<br />
"I love you Mary, mom loves you very much. I miss you but I know I will see you one day," as she sat back down on her wheelchair, my dad looked up at Mary's plaque he said,<br />
"Bye Mary, I'll see you later," as his voice cracked.<br />
On November 2, 2011, is All Souls Day in the Catholic Church. Which happens to be Mary's birthday, she would have been 36 years old. We went to mass to pray for all who have passed away but my heart was only praying for my sister. After mass my dad, mom and I went to a bakery where Mary loved their birthday cakes. Later on that day we all sang Happy Birthday to Mary and as a family, we all blew out the candles that were lit on her cake. The cake just didn't taste the same with out having Mary there with us. I know she was with us in spirit and her memories in our hearts. However, we are still trying to come to grips with the reality of her being gone, I guess we will never get use to missing the one we love.<br />
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<div id="ynano_hooks_page" style="display: none;"><div id="callsToClient_page" style="display: none;"></div><div id="eventsFromClient_page" style="display: none;"></div></div><div id="ynano_hooks_page" style="display: none;"><div id="callsToClient_page" style="display: none;"></div><div id="eventsFromClient_page" style="display: none;"></div></div><div id="ynano_hooks_page" style="display: none;"><div id="callsToClient_page" style="display: none;"></div><div id="eventsFromClient_page" style="display: none;"></div></div><div id="ynano_hooks_page" style="display: none;"><div id="callsToClient_page" style="display: none;"></div><div id="eventsFromClient_page" style="display: none;"></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-39848064068441578372011-06-21T14:16:00.000-07:002011-06-25T13:36:16.676-07:00Father's Day 2011<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">Father's Day 2011 for my dad was bitter sweet, bitter because his daughter Mary Magdalene was not here to share it with him along with my other brothers and sisters. Sweet, because my parent's home was filled with love from all their children and grandchildren who came or called to wish my dad a Happy Father's Day. He got cards, electronic picture frame and gift certificates as gifts to celebrate the occasion. <br />
My dad rarely talks about his feeling about Mary Magdalene's passing and if anyone would ask how he fells about Mary Magdalene not being here, <br />
"Mary is gone, she is with Our Father in heaven," is the usual answer he would reply . However, I know it's much more than a one liner that shields him from actually feeling pain and loss. All of Mary Magdalene's clothes have been given to charities along with most of her medical equipment. Two plastic containers in the garage are filled with Mary Magdalene's keep sakes. We have one Eeyore coffee cup and glass that we keep in the kitchen cabinet belonged to Mary Magdalene. One morning I made coffee and served my dad his traditional cup of coffee using one of the cups that belonged to my sister. At first my dad didn't notice what cup he was using until he finished his coffee. Once he realized it then came an explosion of emotions,<br />
"What the hell is wrong with you! This was Mary's cup, Mary's! I could have dropped it and it could have broken! Don't you <i>ever</i> give me this cup again because I don't want to be the one that might break it!"<br />
"But you didn't Dad, it's still in one piece. I knew it was Mary's cup and that is why I gave it to you, to keep Mary alive in our memories of her and to not keep her things just locked away," I replied.<br />
"No! It's Mary's cup! I lost my Mary! I never ever want to use this cup again, do you understand me?!" as he walked into the kitchen held Mary's cup with such care and proceeded to wash Mary's cup, dried it with a dish towel and slowly placed it back into the cabinet.<br />
"Okay Dad, but I know Mary wouldn't want us to keep her memory in a cabinet," I said as I watched my dad closing the door of the kitchen cabinet.<br />
He turn to me and said,'Every day I think of my Mary, every day my heart aches so much! I thought when I lost my mom I experienced grief and sadness but that was <i>nothing</i> compared to losing my Mary. I hope none of my children who have kids never feel the pain of losing their child, it doesn't matter if they a small or adults, the pain is just too much,"<br />
I walked up to my dad and gave him a gentle hug and kissed his cheek then said, "I'm sorry Dad, I didn't mean to get you upset, maybe with time the pain will lessen but we both know it will never completely go away,"<br />
He looked at me and with tears ready to fall he said, "No, the pain will never be gone, it will never go away but I know one day I will see my Mary again and I am looking forward to that day,"<br />
So remembering this year's Father's Day holiday I think of an old cliche to be true, "Every day <i>is</i> Father's Day". It is all year round ,rain or shine, in good time and in bad and even in death. Just because my sister has gone to heaven, her memory will always be in my dad's heart. <br />
I love you Dad and I know Mary Magdalene is with us every single day, regardless if it is a holiday or not.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0Covina, CA, USA34.0900091 -117.8903397000000334.0704696 -117.93371270000003 34.109548600000004 -117.84696670000002tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-26919640532736901472011-05-09T10:27:00.000-07:002011-05-10T09:47:15.070-07:00Mother's Day 2011<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t63-QMM6DbU/TcXn_L3AZNI/AAAAAAAAAHc/gERbJfCJyi8/s1600/102_1244.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-t63-QMM6DbU/TcXn_L3AZNI/AAAAAAAAAHc/gERbJfCJyi8/s200/102_1244.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><div><br />
</div><div>Does anyone remember jigsaw puzzles? I remember my parents bought many boxes of them through out my childhood. Some jigsaw puzzles came in very small pieces and some have large ones. I remember the vibrant pictures of landscaping mountains or the crashing of the seashore against the rocks, the forest always had the colors of the Autumn season as my family would work together in completing the puzzle on the dining room table of our home. Sometimes the worst thing about completing a jigsaw puzzles can be when it come to the end of it and the last piece of the puzzle would be missing. We would look all around the dining room for the missing jigsaw piece and sometimes we would find it and sometimes we wouldn't. While we would be working on the puzzle, my mom would give us our own section to work on and when we finished our section and placed them all together, we would get such a great sense of accomplishment as we all gazed at the finished puzzle. Sometimes a jigsaw piece from the box would already be bent or broken apart in two so my mom would always find a way to mend it with some clear sticky tape. After my mom would fix the broken jigsaw piece she would say, "Look, it's good as new," and place the puzzle piece in it's proper place to complete the jigsaw puzzle. </div><div>Reflecting on these memories reminds me of how Mother's Day 2011 may have felt like to my mom. Most of my brothers and sisters who lived local came to visit my mom, we are all the different pieces of my mom's heart. All of us sat together and talked and laughed with stories from the past, just like placing different parts of a jigsaw puzzle that comes together as one. My mom received beautiful flower arrangements, colorful Mother's Day cards in the mail and in some cards where given person by her children, the array of the different colors of the cards and flowers reminds me of the many different colors of a jigsaw puzzle. My mom received phone calls for her sons and daughters and that would make her happy because she always loved to hear from her children. However, this was the first Mother's Day without my sister Mary Magdalene and I knew my mom's heart was sadden. Even though my mom darn well knew that her daughter Mary Magdalene is in heaven, I know that my mom longed to see her and wished things may have turn out differently. Mary Magdalene is my mom's missing piece of her heart's jigsaw puzzle and it has been a painful one. My mom knew that her daughter is no longer suffering or in pain but the pain in my mom's heart will always remain and as time goes on it may lessen but will never be completely gone. At the end of the day, I asked my mom about how she was feeling about Mother's Day without Mary and she said, "I miss her very much but I know one day I will be with her again," and smiled. I hugged my mom and said,"Your right Mom, you will," One day my mom will finally find the missing jigsaw piece of her heart that is waiting for her up in heaven.</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-88608787821853896872011-05-01T12:47:00.000-07:002011-05-10T17:15:45.116-07:00Six Months Later...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YX2TQa3OGVE/Tb2rwWAZsAI/AAAAAAAAAHU/S2DovPjG6ow/s1600/34957_1515533734320_1413764284_31422579_6644244_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YX2TQa3OGVE/Tb2rwWAZsAI/AAAAAAAAAHU/S2DovPjG6ow/s320/34957_1515533734320_1413764284_31422579_6644244_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">On April 29th it has been six months since our sister Mary Magdalene went back to heaven to live with God our Father, Jesus Christ his son, the Holy Spirit and all the angels and saints; I know she is in very good company in heaven. Yet my heart is still healing for the pain of loosing my sister even though I know she is in a much better place. Here is a picture of the Mary, our sister Irene and myself at the last family gathering celebrating a birthday of one of our brothers and meeting our newest nephew for the first time. I remember posing for this picture as all three of us just looked into the camera and smiled. Now when I look at this picture, it strikes me with the most remarkable feelings of love. Mary's warm smile and her familiar streak of the natural silver highlight on her dark black hair that God placed especially on her head, just reflects the love she has for her family. When my sister Irene would come and visit us at home, Mary would always gleam with excitement and say, "Renie's coming," and just be so happy to see her come over for a visit and would be looking forward to spend time with Irene. My sister Irene has been living on her own for years and Mary loved every-time she'd come over for a visit.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Today is the sixth month anniversary of Mary's passing; this morning I was on our computer when I read on a social network that my sister Irene had dreamt of Mary the previous night. In this dream she told Mary how much she loved her and Mary's replied "I love you more,". As I sat at the computer after reading my sister's comment and I was just in awe as it brought me to tears because I too had a dreamt of Mary yesternight. In my dream I was calling for Mary though out our home and did not get any reply from her, "Mary where are you? Where are you ?" I said in the middle of my sobs, I couldn't find Mary anywhere. As I started to feel myself coming out of my dream when I suddenly felt someone hugging me just the way my sister Mary used to give a hug. Then I heard Mary softly say, "It's okay Emils, it's okay". I woke up so startled and yet had such a sense of peace, as I swiped the tears from my eyes. In reflection on what my sister Irene and I dreamt the previous night, I just want to say, </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">"Thank you God for allowing our sister Mary Magdalene to comfort us."</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-1919898008790793692011-04-17T09:57:00.000-07:002011-04-18T09:17:33.298-07:00Mary's Traditional Easter Dish<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rclrhvzswhQ/TasUsSiPISI/AAAAAAAAAHI/7QVtA0SGSGI/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="84" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-rclrhvzswhQ/TasUsSiPISI/AAAAAAAAAHI/7QVtA0SGSGI/s200/Unknown.jpeg" width="200" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WnuYg5CBdbQ/TasU4Ltm1_I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/U33gXVGJH1U/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="84" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WnuYg5CBdbQ/TasU4Ltm1_I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/U33gXVGJH1U/s200/Unknown.jpeg" width="200" /></a><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WnuYg5CBdbQ/TasU4Ltm1_I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/U33gXVGJH1U/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="83" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WnuYg5CBdbQ/TasU4Ltm1_I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/U33gXVGJH1U/s200/Unknown.jpeg" width="200" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Every Easter my sister Mary Magdalene would make a Easter tray of goodies and every year we would eat the candy she placed on her tray. It had all kinds of Easter theme candy but Mary's favorite were the marshmallow Peeps. She<i> loved</i> Peeps and every year she looked forward in making her tray and sharing it with her family. <br />
She would place plastic green grass has her base on a tray and lay the chocolate foil eggs and pastel color jelly beans and Peeps all around the grass filling the tray. She would have my dad or I drive her to a Target so she could get all her supplies of candy and Peeps in order to make her Easter Tray. <br />
On Palm Sunday we would come back from church and my sister would ask,<br />
"Can someone take me to Target so I can get my tray ready for next Sunday?"<br />
"Sure Mija, I'll take you," said dad<br />
"Thanks Pops, I need to buy my stuff for Easter," said Mary<br />
So my dad and Mary would head to Target and come back home with bags full of Easter candy. As they walked into the house my mom said,<br />
"Oh! I see somebody is ready for Easter,"<br />
"Yep!" Mary replied wearing a smile from ear to ear as she headed to her bedroom for a nap. Shopping was always fun for Mary but after shopping she would always need a nap to regain her strength.<br />
On Easter morning, after we came back from church and my mom and I were busy in the kitchen working on our Easter ham, Mary would go into her bedroom and come out with Easter candy and grass ready to make her Easter tray.<br />
"Mary, you gonna make your Easter tray?" I asked<br />
"Yep," said Mary<br />
"Do you need any help with it?" asked my mom<br />
"Nope" answered Mary<br />
I think my mom was trying to help my sister so she could try to sneak a candy or two from Mary.<br />
"Okay Mamas, but if you need any help, just let us know and we will help you," I said<br />
"That's okay, I don't need any help; I like to make this by myself," said Mary<br />
You can hear all the candy being spilled over the dining room table and the crumbling of the green plastic grass coming out of the bag. We would already have the tray out for Mary so she could start making her Easter master piece.<br />
So in a few minutes, my mom and I would hear,<br />
"I'm finished! Do you guys want to see it?" ask Mary<br />
"Of course we do Mary, bring it over," said Mom<br />
Mary would carefully stand up and place the Easter tray in her walker and roll it towards us so we could see what she had done,<br />
"It's beautiful Mija!" exclaimed mom<br />
"Yeah Kiddo, it look good enough to eat," I said<br />
Mary would gleam with pride and placed the tray in the middle of the dinning room table, and that would be our center piece for our Easter feast.<br />
This year will be the first year that Mary will be celebrating Easter with us from heaven. This year I will be making the Easter tray in her memory and my heart at time feels so heavy with grief because I miss her so much. My parents and I are going to give Mary flowers and will add some different color Peeps on wood skewers and add them in the flower bouquet because we all know how much Mary loved her Peeps.<br />
Note to Mary: I know Mamas you are in heaven and I will make your Easter tray because I know that is what you would want us to do. I love you, I miss you but because Christ rose on the third day and destroyed death forever, I will see you again. Happy Easter Mamas love Emils!<br />
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</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-88838344090754484762011-04-11T20:54:00.000-07:002011-04-18T09:22:34.707-07:00Beautiful Surprise<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mXVcJf1XOF8/TaPGAeq1JFI/AAAAAAAAAHA/yYiE7d4iKus/s1600/102_1796.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mXVcJf1XOF8/TaPGAeq1JFI/AAAAAAAAAHA/yYiE7d4iKus/s320/102_1796.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cTD-3CzvpTI/TaPGH5azhjI/AAAAAAAAAHE/sW6W4yxI530/s1600/102_1797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cTD-3CzvpTI/TaPGH5azhjI/AAAAAAAAAHE/sW6W4yxI530/s200/102_1797.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><br />
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On March 22, 2011 we received a letter in the mail from the Arcadia Mental Health Center. My sister Mary Magdalene went there on a monthly bases after her nervous break down when she was diagnosed with MS, she went for monthly counseling and medication. However, it was odd for us to receive a letter from the center since Mary passes away on October 29, 2010. The letter was from the Clinical Program Head and it notified us that an employee who worked with Mary Magdalene in the Creative Minds group was changing positions and as she was getting ready to transfer, she found some painting that were done by my sister Mary Magdalene. The Creative Minds group was a support group for women with mental illnesses and would make all kinds of art and craft items. This is the group that got Mary to make her priceless bracelets and go on an occasional field trip.<br />
Part of the letter read, "These paintings are a beautiful creations that reflect Mary's artistry and wonderful spirit." the paintings were going to be kept in Mary's councilor's office and invited us to pick them up.<br />
Needless to say that when we read this letter, I shot out of our home and speeded right down to the center to retrieve the paintings in my parent's car. As I drove to Arcadia, I felt the the car couldn't go fast enough and if I was able to fly, I know I would have flew.<br />
When I got to the center, I parked the car, walked in through the metal detector and went directly to the front desk.<br />
"May I help you?" asked the receptionist,<br />
"Yes, I am the sister of Mary Magdalene Rodriguez who was a patient here, we received a letter<br />
today informing us that two paintings that were done by my sister and they are here, may I have them?"<br />
I then proceeded to show her the letter we received in the mail, the young woman<br />
read it and said,<br />
"I will go and check to see where I can find her paintings, if I find them I will give them to you,"<br />
"Thank you very much," I said<br />
A few minutes later, the woman came with to painting and handed them over to me, I looked at them in awe and started to cry.<br />
"They are pretty, very colorful," said the receptionist. <br />
"Yes, they are; I can't wait to show them to my parents; thank you for your time," I said.<br />
"Your welcome, have a nice day," smiled the receptionist.<br />
I walked out with the painting and speeded back home; as I drove up the drive way of our home, I looked down at the painting and said,<br />
"Welcome home Mamas!"<br />
I walked into the house and my mom and dad were waiting patiently,<br />
"Let's see them, how do they look?" asked dad<br />
As I displayed them to my parents, I could see the joy in their eyes,<br />
"Their beautiful! What a beautiful surprise!" said my mom<br />
The paintings are now framed and are ready to be display at home, it's nice to know that Mary had so many talents that we are able to cherish them forever; we are also thankful to the Arcadia Mental Health Center for notifying us about these painting. <br />
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<div class="MsoBodyText2">My migraines had started to come back and I knew it was because of stress so I made an appointment with my doctor.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">The next morning I had appointment at eight with my doctor and was able to leave Mary for two hours knowing that my parents would be home to care of Mary. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> As I sat in his examination room I was on edge because I didn’t want to be gone from home for too long. It was just a couple minutes that felts like hours when my doctor came in and said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Emilia, what’s going on?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">I looked at him and just broke into tears and just started crying.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Emilia, what’s wrong?” asked the doctor<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “I’m getting migraines and they don’t go away,” I cried.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Again I ask, what is going on Emilia? What do you think <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> are causing these migraines?” questioned my doctor.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> I don’t know,” I answered.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “What is going on at home? How is your family?” <br />
“Mary’s MS is getting worse, she had a G-Tube placed <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> because she kept vomiting but the problem is she is still <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">vomiting and no one can give us an answer on why it’s happening. My mom and I have been talking about hospice but we don’t know if we should,” I answered. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“If your family is thinking about hospice, maybe it’s time your family should consider it since your sister doesn’t seem to be improving over all in her health,” said my doctor.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">I just started to cry even harder, the thought of my sister passing away was unconceivable to my parents and I. We kept hoping that Mary would get better or get to a point to where Mary’s downward spiral of her health would just stop. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> My doctor then gave me a business card and pamphlet to a hospice company that he referred to his patience's. Hospice, the word didn’t seem real to me, I always heard other families dealing with a family member being in hospice but never imaged it happening to us. I took them information home along with a prescription for my migraines. Driving back home all I could think about was how am I going to bring the subject of Mary being in hospice to my parents and even more so how to talk to about with Mary. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> When I got home and parked the car in the garage, took a deep breath and walked into the house to find my parents in the living room, sitting on the lift chairs, drinking their morning coffee and watching television.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “How’d it go Mija,” ask my dad<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Okay,” as I walked into Mary’s bedroom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Hi Mamas, I back from the doctor, are you okay?” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> I walked up to her bed and gently took her hand, Mary<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> just looked at me and smiled and looked at my with her huge brown eyes,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Oh Mamas, I love you so much. You know that right? You know how much I love" I said<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Mary smiled as tears ran down her cheeks and she tired to blow me a kiss.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “I just wanted to let you know that we love you very much and mom, dad and I will always be here for you know matter what,” and I laid tenderly my head on Mary’s chest and softly cried. I could her her heart beat so slowly, her chest rose gently up and down to the rhythm of her breathing. I wanted things to go back to where Mary would have her independent back to the point were she would be, talking, walking, just being her old self. I wanted to hear her laughter and see her living life the way she used to be but I knew she couldn't and it killed me inside, this pain of helplessness was truly unbearable that it pierced right through my very soul. I lifted my head off Mary's chest, kissed her cheek and then wiped the tears from my eyes and Mary's too. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Before I left Mary’s bedroom I make sure I Love Lucy was on television and told Mary that I would be back in a little while,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Mary just smiled at me and then turned to look at television.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> I walked into the living room determined to show my parents the business card and pamphlet my doctor has given me. I think this was one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “What are you guys watching on T.V.?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “The news,” answered my mom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “How’d it go with the doctor, did he give you anything for <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> your headaches?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yeah but he also gave me something else,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “What did he give you?” asked my dad<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “A pamphlet,” I said<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Is it a pamphlet on migraines?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “No dad, it’s about a hospice service, it’s for Mary.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">A dead silence filled the living and all you could here was the sounds coming from the television when my mom said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“What the hell do we need a hospice for Mary? She’s going to get better,” insisted my mom,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Is she mom? Really, is she? How much more are we going to put Mary through? She doesn’t want to go back to the hospital and our options to fight MS are running out; what choices do we have?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“ No! I’m not ready for hospice, Mary is not ready for hospice!” said my mom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">My dad just was silent as his eyes started to fill with tears.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“I’m not ready either but if we truly love Mary, we need to do what is best for her, no? We tried plasmapheresis treatments, the only two other options are too high of a risk of side effects because Mary’s stage of MS is so advance.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">My dad final spoke and said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“What does the Catholic Church say about hospices? We need to call Father Larry or Sister Susan and talk to them about it then we can have a family meeting about this hospice.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Your right Tony, first we talk with either Father Larry or Sister Susan,” answered my mom<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“That’s fine, I just think that it’s time for us to think about quality of life for Mary because I have no idea what to do next,” I said and broke down crying,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“I love Mary but what I hate to see her suffer, if hospice can ease her suffering then I am for it,” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“You don't think it's hard on me? It’s hard for a mom to see my child suffer and not be able to do anything to help her, to ease her pain!” cried my mom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Then, Emilia you call the church and make an appointment then we will have a family meeting on where we go from here.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">I walked into our kitchen to get the phone and spoke to Fr Larry, he told me that he was willing to come to our home and talk to us about placing Mary in a hospice program.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">The following day, Father Larry came to our home and talked to us about the Catholic Church’s view on hospice. As we all seated at the dinning room table, you could feel the tension in the air. Father Larry told us he knew all what we have done for Mary and he understood that medically we had done all we can for her. However the Catholic Church will support our decision in placing Mary in a hospice program. We all started crying, Father Larry had known my family for over 20 years and he knew what a hard decision it was for us to come to this conclusion. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“We just don’t want to do anything against the Catholic Church teachings,” said my dad<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Your not Antonio, this decision is being made from love, the love you all feel for Mary. I understand that and so does God,” said Father Larry,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Father Larry got off from the table, as did we and walked into Mary’s bedroom. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Hi Mary, do you know who I am?” smile Father Larry<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> Mary’s lips mouthed, “No,” and started to cry,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Mary, my name is Father Larry and your family invited me <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> to come and pray with you, is that okay?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> Mary’s lips read, “O.K.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> We all gathered around Mary for the Anointing of the Sick Sacrament. As he prayed, it was so hard for any of us to respond, our voices cracked with emotions but half way through we focused on Mary and kept praying with Father Larry.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">After the sacrament was given Father Larry was ready to go back to the parish; he said good-bye to Mary and my parents; as I walked him to his car he said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Emilia, do you believe Mary is going to heaven?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">I looked at him as tears ran down my face, I answered,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yes. Yes, I believe Mary is going to heaven,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “I believe that God has a special place for Mary and her <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">name is written on it. Please don’t delay it from happening, don’t deny Mary from her rightful place in heaven,” said Father Larry,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">He said this with such conviction and I knew he was right.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“No Larry, we won’t delay in any way from keeping Mary from going to her rightful place in heaven. We just wanted to know what the Catholic Church’s teaching were on hospice,” I said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Good,” he said and<br />
He gave me a hug of support, smiled at me then got into his car and drove off.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">It wasn’t easy going back into the house; I didn’t think I had the courage.<br />
As I walked in I heard my mom ask,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Did Father Larry leave?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yes mom, he’s gone,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Well then we need to have a talk with Mary about this<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> hospice and if it’s okay with Mary, we will call her<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> doctor about placing Mary in hospice,” said mom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">So my dad, mom and I walked into Mary’s bedroom and we found Mary just looking at a picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus that hung in her room.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “What’s cha doing Mamas, looking at the big JC?” I asked<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yes,” mouthed Mary<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Mary, dad, Emilia and I want to talk to you about <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> something important, okay?” ask my mom</div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Mary’s bedroom was silent for a second as my mom started the conversation the about hospice program.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Mary, you have been through a lot in the past couple years and the MS, no?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yes,” mouthed Mary<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “We were wondering if you wanted to try a new drug that <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> might help you but you will need to go to the hospital. We <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> would need you to have an MRI done because the side <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> effect is you might get a brain infection. If you got a brain <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> infection, there could be a possibility of you passing <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> away or get worse than you are right know. We all love <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> you very much Mary and whatever ever you want to do, we <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> will support your because we love you so much. Do you want to try this medicine?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">My mom just started to break down and cry as Mary did too.</div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Mary, did you understand what mom was asking?” asked dad.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yes, “<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Do you want to try it?” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “No,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Are you sure?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yes,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “You do not want to try a new medication?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “No,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Is it okay for you went to the hospital just for a little <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> while just so you can try the new medicine or get an<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> MRI done?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “No,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Then Mary mustard all her strength and softly whispered,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “I don’t want it any more, I’m tired dad,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">My dad just broke down and started to cry, and then it was my turn,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Mamas, if there was a way for you to be home all the time and not go to the hospital or take anymore new medicines, would that make you happy?” I asked<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Yes,” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“There is a program named hospice, hospice will make sure you are okay because a nurse will come and check you every week. The hospice program will also get all your medicines liquid so we can put them in your G-tub and another nurse will come and help me give you a bath, it that okay?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Yes,” mouthed Mary.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Okay, Mamas. You don’t want to go to the hospital anymore and you don’t want to take anymore new medicines, right?” I said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Right,” answered Mary as tear started again to run down her cheeks and land on her pajama top.<o:p></o:p><br />
"Aye Mamas, why are you crying? You won't be going anywhere, you'll just be home with us and we can get someone to help take care for you. We just want to make sure you don't want to try any new medicines because if you do we will call the neurologist but if you don't want to that's okay. Can we call hospice to help you. It's okay if we call hospice for you to help us?"</div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Yes,” answered Mary.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“You’re tired Mamas and you just want to be home, right?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Yes,” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“No more hospitals, no more poking with a needle, no more being away from home, right?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Right,” answered Mary<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Then I started crying because I knew Mary was saying the truth, she was tired and just want to be home. Home in her own bedroom with her purple stars shining, holding her Eeyore pillows and surround by the people she loved so dearly.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Well Mija, thank you for helping make the right decision for you. We are going to take care of you the best way we can, okay?” asked my mom<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Okay,” smiled Mary.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Well, I’m sure your tired from all this talk and Father Larry’s visit so we’ll leave you so you can take a nap, okay”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Okay dad,” answered Mary.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">We all kissed Mary and each of us told her how much we loved her. Mary just smiled and closed her eyes, as she was so ready for her afternoon nap.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">As my mom, dad and I walked back to the dining room table and sat back down, we all had such solemn faces and just stared at the family pictures that hung on the wall in the dinning room. Remember better days when Mary was a baby, when she was in elementary school and pictures of her when she was an adult, family pictures that reflect better and happier days.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Well, where is that hospice pamphlet?” asked my mom<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">I walked to the computer desk and took the pamphlet from a stack of papers and handed it to my mom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“How do we do this? How do we start this? How do we know we are making the right decision!?” cried my mom,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“We are making the right decision, Mary wouldn’t have it any other way, you heard her answers Mom,” I said<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“I know, we all heard them Emilia but it’s still not an easy decision to make. We never thought in our furthest dreams that we would have to be in this situation,” said my dad.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“I know dad, I’m sorry mom; it’s not easy for me either. Mary is my younger sister and I thought even though she has MS, I always thought Mary would always be around,” I said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Emilia, can you please call Mary’s primary doctor and talk to him about our family decision. I just can’t bring myself to do it even though I know it’s the right decision to make; how about you Tony, do you want to call the doctor?” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“No,” answered my dad.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">"I'll I call him and we will see what we need to do to get the process started for Mary,” I said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">I got the phone and spoke to Mary’s doctor about a hospice program for Mary. At first he wanted to talk with my mom or dad and after a few minutes the phone got handed back to me. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">I put the phone to my ear as I heard the doctor say,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Emilia?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yes doctor, it’s me.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “I just want you to know that I admire your family’s love and <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> courage it must have took to come to this decision about <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> Mary. Your parents told me that Mary is fully aware if this <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> decision. In my experience, most patient’s family keep <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> putting their family member through so much pain and <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> agony just so the patient can live a little longer. They<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> just think of themselves and how they would not be<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> able to live without their family member. I know it was<br />
not an easy decision to make but I feel it is the right one. </div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> Give me theinformation on the hospice company of your family’s<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> choice and I will get the process going for you. However, I want you to know<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> that I will no longer be Mary’s doctor once she enters<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> hospice because they have their own doctors. However,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> my thoughts and prayers are with Mary, your parents and <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> you. Please keep me updated if you don’t mind, okay?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “Yes doctor, I will keep updated and thank you so much for <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> your understanding,” I said<o:p></o:p></div><span style="font-family: Arial;"> “Your welcome and God bless you all.”</span> </div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-77314197609470587582011-03-28T12:15:00.000-07:002011-04-09T11:21:16.352-07:00Mary's G-Tube<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;">The couple first times Mary started throwing up was in December of 2009, we thought it was just some kind of stomach flue or maybe a 24-hour virus so we all dismissed it. However, the vomiting continued from days to weeks at least three or four times a day. It got to a point that every morning I would find Mary in a pool of vomit dripping from the left side of her bed onto the carpet. Her hair and pillow would be soaked in vomit and her pajamas and blankets were also soaked. I would have to change the bedding and shampoo the rug and give Mary a bed bath because the vomit ran everywhere. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Mary, if you wanted a bed bath all you had to do is ask me Mamas.” I’d joked.<o:p></o:p><br />
"I'm sorry," Mary mouthed.<br />
"Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for? It's okay Mamas, I'll just clean you up in no time,"</div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> It was the look on Mary’s frighten look on her face that broke my heart. <br />
However, I kept on smiling and I started to clean her up and by the end Mary eventually would have a smile on her face then she would try to bow me a kiss.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;">Since Mary lost her ability to speak, she was not able to call for help when she needed it. It was very frustrating for the both of us. For Mary, not being able to call for help when you need it must have been so difficult for her. For myself, I could not stand the thought of my sister lying in a pool of her own vomit and I was always worried about Mary choking on her vomit and of finding my sister dead. Mary wasn’t able to sleep flat on her back in her hospital bed because of the vomiting so from that time on she was always in an up right position. Any time I would leave her bedroom I would ask her,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;"> “What do you do if you start to vomit Mary?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> Mary would just turn her head to the left and smile.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;"> “That’s right Mamas! Turn you head to the left so you don’t choke in case you start to vomit, good job!" </div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;"> Sometimes, during the day, as I would be watching I Love Lucy with Mary in her bedroom and she would start to cough and start choking, I would grab a small trash can with a liner and place it under Mary’s chin and lean her head towards the trash can. If I was quick enough to catch the vomit in the trash can, I would just have to replace the trash can linier, wiped her face with a warm wash cloth, kiss her cheek so she wouldn’t feel so scared. There were times that I wasn’t able to reach for the trash can and vomit would spill everywhere. At night I would cover the carpet with liners, her pillow was also covered with liners and a small trash was aligned under the left side of her bed. I was trying to minimize any future clean up so Mary wouldn’t feel so shaken when she would vomit.</div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> What was so strange about Mary’s vomiting was the food the she threw up never seemed to get to her stomach. It never had a vomit smell, which meant there was no stomach acid mixed with her vomit. It looked like if Mary had just eaten and the food was never broke down. We tried at first chopping her food to small bites so she would be able to chew her food thoroughly. Then we tried to mince her food and then we puréed it. Then we stated to give her a dietary supplement shake but she vomited it too. At times Mary would vomit about an hour after she ate and sometime it would take up to six hours after a meal and Mary would vomit everything up. Nothing seemed worked, Mary continued to vomit and her food. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;">So we made an appointment with Mary’s primary doctor the first week the vomiting started because we were concerned about dehydration and Mary not being able to retain any kind of nutrition. Her primary doctor, neurologist, GI specialist could not find any reason why Mary was vomiting so much. She had an upper GI done and nothing was found. The neurologist told us that “this is not typical MS symptom” so no solution was given.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">The feelings of helplessness and frustration started to set on our family because we just wanted to know why, why was Mary vomiting and how do we stop it.</div><div class="MsoBodyText2">At the end, a feeding tube was given to us as an option for getting some kind of nutrition in Mary. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“There is no guarantee that this will stop the vomiting but we have not other choice in trying to get Mary the nutrition she needs along with fighting dehydration,’ said Mary’s GI doctor.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">At first we were hesitant about the whole idea of a feed tube or as it is also called Upper GI Tube or G-Tube. It really scared all of us; jus the thought of a tube coming out of Mary’s body was unimaginable but slowly became a reality. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;">We knew that meant another trip to the hospital and Mary would not be happy about it. However, we were running out of solutions, we had to let Mary know that was going to happen to her and why the feeding tube was necessary.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;">I remember my mom starting to cry just on the thought of telling Mary that she was going to have a feeding tube coming out of her stomach. So the next morning as I got Mary ready for the day I talked to her about it, <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Hey Mamas, how you doing this morning?” I asked<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="text-indent: .5in;">“Fine,” I as read her lips<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Good to hear. You know I have to take to you about something and I know it’s going to be hard to hear but try to be brave, okay?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Okay,” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“You know how you hate to drink the nutrition shake because it taste to nasty, how you like to never have to drink it again but you can still eat all the yummy gelatin and pudding that you love so much?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Mary just looked at me with a puzzled stare and I took a leap of faith and said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Mamas, you are going to need to have a little tub coming out of your stomach so we can give you water and nutrition. You just have to be in the hospital in the morning and come out the same day. You will not be there over night; dad and I will be with you and will bring you home when it’s done,” I said and tried to smile.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Mary just looked at me as her eyes filled with tears and just started to cry. I hugged her and said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2" style="margin-left: .5in;">“I’m sorry Mamas, I’m sorry but there isn’t anything else we can do. The doctor said we could still give you small amounts of food through mouth like pudding, applesauce and gelatins. It’s just the nasty nutrition shake will be put in your tube so you don’t have to taste it any more.” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">As I looked at Mary’s frighten face my heart just felt so numb with the unknown of what was going to happen to my Mary.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">After the tears ended, I assured Mary that everything was going to be okay, that we were going to take care of her and that she is loved. Mary looked at me with her huge brown eyes as I read her lips say,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “I know,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “I know it’s scary Mamas but you are not alone, you will <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">never be alone. Mom, dad and I was with you every step of the way because we love you so much,” I cried.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> “I know,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">On the day my dad and I took Mary to the hospital for the G-tube procedure my cousin came over and stood with my mom. I am forever grateful for family. We were there at six in the morning and were out by noon. We brought Mary home and a nurse came that afternoon to show me how to care for Mary’s G-tube.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">Even though Mary had a G-Tube she was at that time able to eat very small amounts of her soft favorite foods. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoBodyText2">The vomiting seemed to taper down but didn’t seem to stop completely. We felt badly having Mary go through the g-Tube procedure and yet not solving the vomiting issue. By this time, we were very scared for Mary because we were running out of options. <o:p></o:p><br />
At first a feeding pump was used so Mary would get the proper nutrition she needed but she kept vomiting everything up. We called the doctor and the feeding pump was stopped and Mary had to be fed with a large 60 ml plastic syringe and little by little Mary would be fed by either my dad or I.<br />
Mary would be fed every four hours and about 60 ml at every feeding. We still gave Mary very small amounts of gelatin or pudding. Sometime my parents bought a watermelon and I would make watermelon juice. Mary LOVED watermelon juice, I would feed it to her from a small sponge attached to a thin straw. I would dip the sponge into the juice and place it into her mouth, then Mary would just suck the sponge dry. It went on for a couple of months but as Mary's health declined, she had trouble swallowing and would start to chock on the liquid or the dessert; at then end we were not able to feed her anything through her mouth because she lost the ability to swallow. It was so hard not to give any kind of water or juice through a sponge. However, when Mary would start to choke on something we gave her it go really scary so we had no other choice but to stop.</div><div class="MsoBodyText2"> <o:p></o:p></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-72305294850705539962011-03-26T11:13:00.000-07:002011-04-20T11:05:03.152-07:00Mary's battle with MS worsens<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: ArialMS;"> <!--StartFragment--> </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #333333; font-family: ArialMS;"><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">In February 1997, Mary’s life wit MS was taking over twelve pills a day and giving herself daily injections of steroids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At first, Mary would have to go for a steroid infusion once a year to help give her strength in her legs and arms so she could still walk with the assistance of her walker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Several years went on and the annual steroid infusion didn’t seem to be too effective so it was increased to every six months then quarterly and it become quarterly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">By January of 2008 Mary Magdalene’s battle with MS had turned to the worse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was having trouble walking and keeping her balance to the point of her falling so we would transfer her from her bed to the wheel chair so she could be with the family in the living room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary was also having trouble with her bodily functions and the bathroom was too small for a wheel chair transfer so she used a commode that was located in her bedroom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">At first, Mary would stay in the hospital for steroid infusions and then physical and occupational therapy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She would be gone from home for about two weeks every three months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary hated steroids but not as much she hated being away from home. My dad would visit Mary every single day she was in the hospital; due to my mom's battle with Parkinson's it was not easy for her to get around and she would starting to become more tired by the afternoon. I was leery in leaving my mom home alone so I would stay with my mom while my dad went to go visit Mary. However, on the days that we all would visit Mary, she would tell us how she would have a weird taste in her mouth from the steroids. When we would visit her, she would tell us how she would have a weird taste from the steroids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents and I would encourage her to be brave and assured Mary that she would be home soon but that didn’t seem to comfort Mary. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; margin-left: .5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“I want to go home! I don’t like being <o:p></o:p></span>here Mom, when can I go home?,”</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; margin-left: .5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span>“It’s just for a little while and we will be picking you up and taking you home as soon as you get better,” answered Mom.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">Tears would start running down Mary’s face as she tried to give a brave smile but her lips just trembled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You could start to see her tears start to fall on her hospital gown.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With the help of my dad, my mom would get up from her wheelchair to give Mary a huge and kissed her on her cheek as she wiped away Mary's tears with her hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All I could hear was our hearts braking with every tear that fell down Mary’s cheek. We all knew that this was not going to be Mary’s last stay in the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we got back into the car and headed back home, I would look at the hospital window of where Mary was staying, I could imagine her looking out and waiving at us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One time Mary actually got out of her hospital bed with the help of her walker and stood at the window waving good-bye to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">'Oh my God! She's gonna fall!" I said as I was ready to run back into the hospital,</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">"Leave her alone! Let her have her moment," said mom as we all turned back to waive good bye to Mary. Mary's smiled and waived back with such energy when she realized that we could see her from her hospital window.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>When we got home, we had a message from the hospital letting us know that Mary had a fall but was okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After that fall, the hospital told us that Mary was a “fall risk” and had to wear a bracelet the read <i>FALL RISK</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">By the end of 2008 steroids didn’t seem to help Mary so the neurologist next suggestion was a procedure called plasmapheresis treatment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were told that this procedure gave patients with MS renewed strength and have showed great improvement with MS patients.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were given information and had a family meeting with Mary’s neurologist.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the end we agreed to have this procedure done with Mary’s permission hoping that her health would improve in any way.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">What we didn’t know was that the plasmapheresis treatment took two week to complete and another two week of occupational and physical therapy was to follow.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So Mary would be gone for an entire month.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Need less to say Mary was not pleased at all in being away from home for such a long period.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was with great emotional pain see Mary go through so much, we missing her every day she was away but prayed that everything would be okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We hoped that Mary would have this treatment done only once.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">The first plasmaphersis treatment showed great improvement with Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It had been almost a year since Mary walked and after the first treatment and with physical and occupational therapy Mary was walking with a walker, talking and keeping focused on the conversations and was more alert and energized.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a miracle!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We stood in shock and awe with what we had witnessed and for the first time in a long time we all had hope that Mary was going to be okay.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We brought Mary home and had a welcome home celebration.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our family bought some presents for Mary and placed them on her bed and we had a cake and I made my famous pasta and garlic bread, which was Mary’s favorite food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My parents, two younger brothers and I all were home to celebrate Mary being home.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“Welcome home Mary!” we all said as my dad pushed Mary on her wheel chair into our home.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“Thanks, guys, Thanks Mom, thanks dad!” smiled Mary<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“I made your favorite Kiddo, pasta and garlic bread!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“Thanks, Emils, that’s my favorite!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“I know Mamas, welcome home,” I said.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">Every morning about eight o’clock in the morning I would get up to start my day with Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, just two day after Mary came home she was not able to stand on her own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I held Mary at the edge of her bed and I knew if I let her go she would have fallen, she became really weak and couldn’t even sit up,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“What going on Mamas?” I asked<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I don’t know Emilis, I can’t sit up, I can’t stand, I can’t do anything,” as she answered, tears started to stream down her face.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“I don’t want to go back to the hospital, I don’t want to go back!” cried Mary<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“I know Mamas, I don’t want you to go back either but sometimes we have to do things we don’t like to do but have to do. “<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">As I held up my sister and placed her back in bed, I called for my parents to come into Mary’s room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They came into Mary’s and after seeing Mary’s decline just after two days of being home; we were all shocked and sadden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary would be gone for the month of April 2009 and July 2009 for more plasmapheresis treatments but it didn’t seem to improve Mary’s strength.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember my parents and I going to pick Mary up for her last stay in the hospital and the nurses where telling us what an improvement Mary has made but when we looked at Mary she still seems just as weak and tired as before her stay at the hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; margin-left: .5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">“Mary is doing so well and I know she is happy to be going home,” said the nurse.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; margin-left: .5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“Yes, we know she is ready to come home, right Mary?” asked my dad,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; margin-left: .5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“Right dad, I want to go home!” answered Mary.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">As much as the nurses were trying to convince us that Mary was doing better, we knew she wasn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Two nurses assisted us in placing Mary in my parent’s van; they had to physically lift Mary off the wheel chair because Mary did not have the strength to do it herself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Come on Honey, move your foot!” muttered one of the nurses as she started to kick my sister’s right foot as to positions it for better leverage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dad was helping my mom into the van; neither of them noticed what the nurse was doing because Mary was being placed in the back seat as my mom was being seated in the front passenger seat, As I looked down to see what the nurse was doing to position my sister’s footing I said,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Hey! What the hell the are you doing?” <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Oh, I’m sorry!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was just trying to move her foot,” said the nurse.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Yeah, I’m sure you were by kicking it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I thought you said she was doing better, if so why are you kicking her foot?” I asked<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">the nurse kept quite and the other nurse and I<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>seated Mary in the van.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we drove away I told my parents what one of the nurses did to Mary and they got very upset.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My dad wanted to drive back and tell off the nurse who kicked Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, my mom calmed him down and when we got home she called in to complain on how Mary was treated. So we had a family meeting and decided to stop the treatments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say, Mary was happy because she was no longer going to be in the hospital.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>The scares on Mary’s neck were dark and ugly for the plasmapheresis treatments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First her left jugular vein in her neck was used, then her right jugular vein.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the third treatment, the jugular vein in her left leg groin was used.<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">As Mary’s health declined, the care taking responsibilities increased dramatically.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some of my siblings spoke to my parents about placing Mary in a convalescent home, which scared the hell out of Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I remember my parents and I going into Mary’s room and had a talk with Mary. We assured her that she was not going anywhere and was going to be home as long as we can keep her home without risking her health.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mary started to cry and in the mists of her sobbing she cracked a smile and said,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Thanks mom, thanks dad, thanks Emils,”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; margin-left: .5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mija, we love you very much and promise we will always take care of you,” said mom.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">We all gave Mary a hug and prayed together thanking God for bring Mary home and asking God to help us get through what ever was coming our way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">At first my mom was caring for my sister and I would just be the assistant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, as time went on and the battle of Parkinson’s started to take over my mom’s abilities to care for Mary; soon I became the caretaker for my sister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that was one of the hardest challenges for my mom, not being about to care for Mary due to Parkinson’s.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">My mom and I would have some major battles because it was so hard for my mom not to be a mom to Mary. Her balance and loss of strength in her hands and arms started to become a challenge but she determined to care Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There were a couple times where my mom almost lost her balance but grabbed Mary’s hospital bed rail to keep her balance as I would just stand in the background and wait until I might be able to assist.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“Mom, let me help Mary,” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“No! I can do it!” snapped my mom <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“I didn’t say you couldn’t do it, I just wanted to help,”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">“No. I’m Mary’s mom and I could do it!”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">I can’t image what heartache and struggle it was for my mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was Mary’s best friend and always took care of Mary and Mary had complete and utter trust in my mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As weeks turned to months, I gently started to take over caring for my sister.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I always had my mom by my side to assist me in caring for Mary.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At times I would catch my mom crying as she looked on while I cared for Mary,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“I can’t do anything! I feel so useless; I’m sorry I can’t help you more,” cried my mom.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Mom, just your being here is help enough, you are my moral support whether you know it or not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I need you here with me and so does Mary, right Mary?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Right!” said Mary with a smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">Every morning about eight o'clock I get up to start my day with my sister Mary Magdalene. She was usually sleeping but cracked a smile when she heard me say, <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">"Good morning my Sleepys, how you'd sleep my Sleepys?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">"Fine, no nightmares." <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>"No nightmares, huh? That's nice Mamas," <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">The sun would be cracking through her bedroom window blinds and would give such a warm gentle light to her bedroom.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; margin-left: .5in; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">“What do you feel like wearing today Mamas, how about some fresh flannel bottoms, matching sockies and a warm cozy top?”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;">Mary would smile and then say,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>“Okay.”<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">Changing my sister for the day was a process so after the attire was picked out for they day. First I would change her adult diaper with a fresh new one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Change her into her fresh clothes for the day. Wash her face with a warm washcloth, brush her teeth, use a little mouthwash then comb her hair. After that I would place her in a sling then hook up the sling onto the Hoyer Lift and roll her to the living room to watch television with our mom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">Once we got to the living room, I would carefully a line the Hoyer Lift to her lift chair.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Slowly I would release the air from the hydraulic chamber and Mary would gradually be seated.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She was still able to sit up by herself at the time so I would take the sling off the handles and roll the lift to the opposite side of the living room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then cover her up with a blanket so she would stay snuggled and warm and place her Eeyore pillow under her arms.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none;"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">Then I would have to give my sister her daily dosages of medications and cook some soft scrambled eggs for breakfast with a glass of juice.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">At ten o'clock was the Price is Right, then the local news, followed by two hours of I Love Lucy, then shows on the Game Show Network. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">By the afternoon, Mary would be tuckered out and I would place her back on the lift and place her in her room for a nap; this would be the weekly routine. On the weekend, my sister usually watch what ever was on the Game Show Network, she loved game shows. During the football season, she loved to see the Minnesota Vikings or the Washington Redskins play on television or a Dodger game during baseball season.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 20.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="color: #333333;">As weeks turned into months then years, the MS became more aggressive and my sister experienced more episodes as the plaque slowly grew in her brain which eventually attacked her nervous system. At times, Mary just has enough strength to open her eyes and surprise me with a small smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoBodyTextIndent">I often wonder what my sister dreams about when she sleeps. Are the dreams of times of when she had healthier days? Are the dreams of her family and happier times? I often wonder how brave and strong is my sister? I guess I will never truly know. However, what keeps me going every day is the fact that my sister is alive now and every day that she is here with us I will celebrate each day with her.<o:p></o:p></div><!--EndFragment--> </span></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-76098935823453793762011-03-26T10:50:00.000-07:002011-04-10T10:18:46.212-07:00A Very Slow Moving Dream<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">November 2nd is Mary Magdalene's birthday, she would have been thirty-five years old. She was born on the feast of All Souls Day, little did any of us know that her passing would only be five days before her birthday. My parents and family went to the liturgy of All souls Day at our Catholic Church in Monterey Park. Her name was on one of the banners in front of the alter,this banner had all the names of the parishioners who have passed away this year. As I sat on the pew stared at her name on the banner, it didn't seem real. People of our parish walked up to my family to give their condolences of the passing of my sister. We hugged them back and thanked them for their kind words and yet it still didn't feel real, it felt like I was in a dream, a very slow moving dream. <br />
"I'm sorry to hear about your sister passing," "She was so young, I 'm so sorry about her passing."<br />
"If there is anything I can do please let me know," was all my mom, dad and myself heard after the the All Souls Day liturgy from parishioners. The numbness of grief can grip you like a vice and you feel like so lost and disorientated yet the pain of grief brings you back to reality. This pain felt like a explosion that I have never felt before. I have experienced a passing of grandfather, grandmother, my parent's uncles and aunts but this was different. However, this pain of grief was much stronger and real because Mary was such a huge part of our lives. The reality of some one you love so much is no longer with you was inconceivable even though I knew Mary was gone. We knew she had MS but we thought she would still live a long and happy life. We were willing to care for her the best we knew hoe and have some kind of medication to help her fight her battle with MS. However, she decline in her health sooner then later and there was absolutely nothing that anyone can do to stop this from happening. I so wish that could wake up from this slow moving dream.<br />
However, Mary is gone to heaven and is looking down at me saying "I'm okay Emils, <i>I'm okay</i>!" The slow moving dream is a cold fact of reality and trying to deal with it with just as much faith, grace and love isn't easy but we now Mary would want us to do. I love you so Mamas and my day does not pass when I am not think of you. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-81799367713854214862011-03-22T17:12:00.000-07:002011-04-10T10:42:18.261-07:00Keeping Up the Fight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">As the MS progressed Mary’s motor skills started to slow down and eventually stop all together. We gave Mary a ceramic bell that she would ring the bell anytime she needed anything. However, as time passed Mary lost the strength to pick up the bell and ring it. I would have to check on her every hour just to make sure she was okay and didn't need anything.<br />
I remember the first time Mary wasn’t able to speak. It was about eight o'clock in the evening when I tucked her into bed at the end of the day. I double checked to make sure Mary had a dry bottom and after fixing her Eeyour pillows underneath her arms to prevent her elbows from pressure sores, I tucked her blankets all around her to make sure she was going to stay com-free and warm. Then, we would say one Our Father, one Hail Mary and the Guardian Angel prayer. This night however I did not hear my sister praying with me and I thought maybe she was just tired.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">So after the prayers, I kissed her good night and I as I was walking away I said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Good night Mamas, see you tomorrow.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">I stop in the middle of my steps and turned to Mary and again I said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Good night Mamas, see you tomorrow. What going on Mary? Where is my “See you tomorrow?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Mary’s eyes just filled with tears as her lips trembled but did not make a sound. Her bright pink Eeyore pajamas started to catch her falling tears. I quickly walked up to her hospital bed; gently I took her hand I asked,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “What’s wrong Mamas, why can’t you talk?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Mary’s tears just kept flowing her cheeks as I started to look around the room for a tissue to wipe her tears. I was so frighten but I didn’t want Mary to know it. I ended up just using my t-shirt to wipe away her tears. Again I asked,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Mamas, what is going on?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “I don’t know” Mary mouthed as the tears continued.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I wanted to hear my sister’s familiar good night reply that I would hear every night but all I heard was silence. I always took such a simple goodnight gesture for granite. Inside my heart was just screaming, the thought of never hearing Mary’s voice was too much to bear as my sister just looked at me with such saddens and fear. Keeping my emotions together and trying so hard to keep my cool I said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Maybe your tired Mamas so just go sleepy time okay? And I know tomorrow will be a better day,” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Then I kissed her cheek and wiped away the tears and stood right by her side gently stroking her hair until she finally fell asleep. I quietly tipped toed out of her bedroom and walked to the living room were my parents were watching television and said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Mary can’t talk,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “What! What do you mean Mary can’t talk?” asked my mom as my dad looked on with concern.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “I said, “Good night Mamas and she didn’t reply back and just started to cry,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Are you sure she can’t talk? Maybe she is just tired and it was hard for her to speak,” suggested my mom,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">“I don’t know Mom, all I know is Mary wasn’t able to reply back and just started crying. When I asked her what was going on, she mouthed, “I don’t know” no sound came out of her mouth. She just started to cry but I didn’t hear anything, her lips trembled and tears ran down her face but she didn't utter any sound. It was too late to call the doctor right now and Mary didn’t seem in any physical pain so we call tomorrow morning, okay?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Okay. Why is this happening? I’m sure Mary is scared,” said mom<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">My parents got up and quietly walked to Mary’s room to find Mary sleeping soundly. My mom kissed Mary on her forehead and my dad blessed Mary with the sign of the cross. Quietly all three of us walked out of Mary’s bedroom and when we were far enough we all cried together. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Unfortunately, none of Mary’s doctors were able to give us a reason why my sister lost her voice. Just assumptions and guess was all we heard for the doctors.<o:p></o:p><br />
The next day I called Mary's neurologist and made an appointment for that week. As we all sat in the doctor's office he said,</div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Maybe the MS is becoming more progressive and is effecting the nerves that controls her speech, every case is different so I can’t give a definite answer, I’m sorry,” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As I helped my mom out of the doctor’s office and my dad pushed Mary out on her wheelchair, we knew that Mary’s health was declining and no doctor in the world was going to be able help her. As we all got back into the van and started to head home I hear my dad take a deep breath and said,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in;">“Who feels like a doughnut and chocolate milk?”, as he turned to see Mary’s reaction; Mary’s face lit up with a huge smile.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Okay, it’s off to the doughnut shop we go!”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">With my dad's assistance, Mary enjoyed her chocolate doughnut sprinkled with peanuts and chocolate milk while we all had a cup of coffee with our own delicious doughnut. When we finally got home, my dad pushed Mary up the wheelchair ramp of our home and rolled her to her bedroom. then with the help of the hoyer lift, Mary was placed in bed and was ready for a nap.<o:p></o:p><br />
After an hour into Mary's nap I peek in to check on her, Mary had vomited the doughnut and chocolate milk. It was everywhere and Mary couldn't call for help. I ran to get a plastic trash bag, wipes and started to clean Mary up. <br />
"I'm sorry," mouthed Mary<br />
"What are you sorry for? It's okay Mamas, I'm sorry I didn't check on you earlier. You didn't do<br />
anything wrong so you don't have to apologize," I said as I finished cleaning her up.<br />
"I'm sorry I'm such a burden," whispered Mary<br />
"Burden? Who said your a burden? Mamas, you are my sister and I love you. What I do for you<br />
is out of love. I never ever want you to think that you are a burden and if I here anyone tell you<br />
that they you are, I will kick their ass!"<br />
Mary just smiled and blew me a kiss as I stroked her hair until she feel asleep.</div><div class="MsoNormal"> After that day and with weeks to come, the biggest battle for my mom, dad and I were the feelings of helplessness, worry, sadness, enraged frustrations as we could only watch Mary’s battle with MS become more and more challenging. It's so hard to come to acceptance when the one you love so much is suffering and each day that passes is losing the battle with MS. However, because of Mary's bravery and will to fight, we too were going to be right by her side fighting with her.<o:p></o:p></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-4563567644970347082011-01-05T14:33:00.000-08:002011-03-20T11:16:23.612-07:00Final Chapter<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0AsNHNJqVJ8/TVbHBvC44WI/AAAAAAAAAFs/xzrMc5gi-6o/s1600/102_1791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0AsNHNJqVJ8/TVbHBvC44WI/AAAAAAAAAFs/xzrMc5gi-6o/s200/102_1791.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>On New Years 2011 Day my parents went to Mary Magdalene’s final resting place to give her some flowers; their surprise to find that Mary’s plaque had been placed on her niche. New Year weekend was such a challenging time for me because I remembered how we celebrated 2009, with Mary declining so quickly in her health in 2010 and this year was the first year she was gone.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I hated it; I didn’t want to talk to anyone or be around anyone and became such a grizzle bear that weekend.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember my dad call me on his cell phone as I answered the phone at home,<br />
“Hi Dad”. <br />
“Just listen,(he paused then said) beloved daughter and sister Mary Magdalene Rodriguez, born November 02, 1975, passed October 29, 2010. Her plaque is here Mija, they finally put in on her niche,” my dad’s voiced cracked with emotions.<br />
Tear just started streaming down my face as I closed my eyes and imagined my sister’s plaque on the cold, lifeless granite where my sister's remains were placed.<br />
“That’s good dad; I’m sorry for acting so grumpy, I just miss Mary so much this weekend! I think because of 2009 New Year's.”<br />
“I know Mija, I miss her too. I was as Walmart the other day, I seen party favors to celebrate New Year’s and I thought of my Mary. I felt that I was going cry in the middle of Walmart. Maybe next year we can buy party favors, what do you think?”<br />
“Yes dad, next year we will, I know Mary would like that if we did.” I replied.<br />
“Okay. Well, me and your mother will be home soon,” answered my dad. “Okay, you guys be careful and I love you guys,” I said as I hung up the phone.<o:p></o:p></div><span style="font-family: Arial;"> I have only visited my sister’s final resting place twice since her passing. Both times there was no plaque and it felt so cold and empty to me. I knew my sister’s remains were there because I witnessed the final sealing. However, without a plaque on the niche, it felt like an unfinished painting of a beautiful and priceless masterpiece. Once I found out that the plaque was placed on Mary’s niche, I finally felt a sigh of relief. The journey here on earth is ultimately over for my sister Mary even though it started back on October 29, 2010. Everything is completed for Mary and now I can feel that I can at last move forward. My mom, dad and I were there in the beginning of Mary’s journey and were there for her as we walked her back home. We believe Mary is in heaven looking down to watch over us like an extra guardian angel. She will continue to assure us that she will always be “okay” up in heaven. We know it will take time to heal from our loss of a beloved daughter and sister. However, we as a family will continue to live our lives together as one as our new guardian angel watches on from heaven.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-75767903914258449272010-12-27T09:53:00.000-08:002011-02-23T11:00:45.829-08:00The Dream<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YrtavYzLB9Y/TWVYBW62jmI/AAAAAAAAAF4/Br4NX-dzTQU/s1600/monarch_chrysalis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YrtavYzLB9Y/TWVYBW62jmI/AAAAAAAAAF4/Br4NX-dzTQU/s200/monarch_chrysalis.jpg" width="94" /></a></div><br />
I had a dream on Christmas morning that I will never forget.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">In my dream I was in the back yard of my parent’s home pulling weeds. It was a vibrant sunny day and I wore my big straw gardening hat to help shield my eyes from the bright sunlight, old jeans and sneakers with an oversize white tee shirt that originally belonged to my dad and an old pair of gardening gloves. I was on my knees as I was pulling the weeds out of my mom’s Iris flowerbed, when I notice something very peculiar. As I looked to my right side, just a few inches away from my right knee was a very large cocoon. I quickly got off my knees and jumped back because I have never seen a cocoon so large in my life! At first I thought it was a piece of dead snakeskin but it wasn’t hollow, something was inside side it but I couldn’t make it out. As I stood up and bent over to give it a better look at it, I was ready to run in case anything came out that was going to sting me. I noticed how ugly it looked; it had a yellowish and almost a goopy green color to it. It was about three to four inches long and it looked about a quarter of an inch in diameter. “Ugh! What an ugly cocoon! I guess what ever was in it died.” I thought to myself so I walked over and got Penny old poop scooper to throw the cocoon in the green trashcan that we used for gardening. <o:p></o:p><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vxRBrJQwYFY/TWVWH7TkZlI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kji2uxxp-3E/s1600/monarch-emerging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="139" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vxRBrJQwYFY/TWVWH7TkZlI/AAAAAAAAAF0/kji2uxxp-3E/s200/monarch-emerging.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I walked up to the cocoon ready to scoop it up, when it started to move! I jump back and dropped Penny’s scooper ready to run away but keeping my eyes fixed on the huge cocoon. The cocoon started to move and roll around and after a few seconds, I was able to make out an image of a Monarch Butterfly fighting it’s way out of the cocoon. I stood there frozen as the huge wings of orange, white specks, black trim and yellow dots broke out of the cocoon. Then the massive black legs and body followed and after a few seconds of struggle it was free.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I stood in amazement of what I just witnessed as the Monarch Butterfly just started to circle around me with it’s massive wing span. As it circled around me, the feelings of peace and love just consumed me. I felt safe and secured that nothing was going to hurt me as this immense creature filled with such beauty and grace flew around me. Then suddenly, the Monarch Butterfly hovered in front of my face as if it was saying goodbye and flew away. I watch it fly away into the brilliant clear blue sky until it was no longer in my sight; then I woke up from the dream.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Everything seemed so quite and peaceful as I opened my eyes and realized that it was all a dream. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">This morning I felt the peace that I have long to feel since my sister's passing in October of this year.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>I am grateful that my sister came to visit me in the wee of the morning in such a unique dream just to reassure my mind and heart that she is fine; Mary wants to me to continue with life as she continues living our Lord in heaven. To be brave, strong and continue to love her as she continues to love us in heaven and even though she is out of our sight, she will always be in our hearts and minds. I love you Mamas!</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-85095312301360272182010-12-23T08:03:00.000-08:002011-02-23T11:09:07.330-08:00Christmas Shopping<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"> Christmas shopping was always simple for my sister Mary Magdalene. Every year she would buy each of us $20 gift certificates from Target. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Emils, can you do me a favor?” asked Mary. <br />
“What is it Mamas?” I asked. <br />
“I need to go to Target, can you take me?”<br />
“Sure, what do you need to get?” I asked. I knew what she was going Christmas shopping because is was a week or two before Christmas; I just wanted to see if she was going to keep it was a surprise.<br />
"None of your business, can you take me or not?" <br />
” Of course Mary, what time did you want to go?”,<br />
“In the morning,” she said. <br />
“Okay Mamas, in the morning but what time in the morning? How about nine o’clock, is that okay?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> ” Yeah, nine is fine.” Mary smiled and said,<br />
“And maybe we can go to the Ihop for breakfast, what do you think?”<br />
“OKAY!” as Mary’s face lit up with a huge smile. Mary loved the Ihop because her favorite dish was the rooty tooty pancakes with strawberries and whipped cream.<br />
<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">So the next morning Mary and I went for one of the best breakfast experiences I ever had with my sister. <br />
“I love rooty tooty Emils,” said Mary as her piping hot pancakes, strawberries topped with a huge mountain of whipped cream and hot chocolate was placed in front of my sister as we had our breakfast. Mary was always a slow eater so I know she truly enjoyed her breakfast that morning.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">After breakfast we headed to Target, even though we had just had breakfast, Mary was already feeling the fatigue due to the MS but you would never see it in her face. As she walked back to the car, she was already starting to walk with a little of a wobble as she pushed along with her walker.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As I parked at the Target parking lot, I got off and took Mary’s walker out and set it up for as I helped her out of my car. <br />
“Stay here Emils, I’ll be right back.” Mary said.<br />
“Oh no Kiddo, I’m going with you.” I replied. <br />
“No Emils, I’ll be okay, I can do it. I know what I want to buy and I will be right back,” answered Mary. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As Mary took the first couples steps and her legs started to wobble as she tried to keep her balance. “Mary, I’m going with you! Your tired Mamas from the Ihop, I don’t want you to fall,” as I started guided her walker. <br />
“No Emils, I can do it, I want it to be surprise. Don’t worry, I’ll be okay,” answered Mary. Her eyes reflected such determination and her face filled with certainty and strength that I let go of her walker. She then whispered, “I can do it.”<br />
It killed me to let go of her walker as she slowly wobbled into Target by herself. I was so scared of my sister falling and no one being around to help her; I was worried that she wouldn’t find anyone to assist her if she needed help.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">It felt like hours, which were only minutes as Mary finally came out of Target and stood at the entrance of the store. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I then got out of my car and went to her,<br />
“Oh Emils, I forgot where we parked.” Mary said.<br />
“That’s okay Mamas, did you get everything you needed?” I asked. <br />
“Yep,” Mary answered.<br />
“You okay?” “Yep,” she answered. <br />
“Ready to go home?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Yep,” she answered. <br />
“Did you need to do any more shopping Mamas?”<br />
“Nope,” she answered. <br />
“Okay Mamas, let’s go home,” then Mary handed me a small red and white plastic bag and her purse. I slowly guided Mary’s walker towards my car as Mary kept a tight grip of her walker as she slowly followed. As I helped Mary into the car she said,<br />
“Thanks, Emils. Can we go home? I’m tired,”<br />
“Yes Mamas, let’s go home.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s been over four years since Mary was able to go shopping and enjoy the Ihop. She will still be celebrating Christmas with us in heaven, I wonder if she got Jesus a $20 gift certificate from Target for His birthday/Christmas present?<o:p></o:p></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-29093163145504520712010-12-19T10:57:00.000-08:002011-02-23T11:10:40.806-08:00Sleepy Time<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal">Every night before my sister Mary Magdalene would go to sleep my mom and I would pray together with her. One Our Father, one Hail Mary and the Guardian Angel prayer was our nightly prayer time with God and together as a family.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">However sometimes my sister suffered from insomnia and at times she would only get two maybe three hours of sleep a night. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Every night I would quietly check my sister to see if she was sleeping and from time to time she would be wide-awake. I would quietly tippy-toe into her room to her bed. Mary would turn her head and look at me so helplessly because I know she was tired. So I would gently stroke her hair and whispered, “Mamas, it’s sleepy time, it’s time to go to sleep. You need your rest, can’t you sleep?”<br />
“No,” Mary replied softly with a tear running down her face.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">So I would keep tenderly stroking her head and gently say, ”Sleepy time, go to sleep, its sleepy time Mamas, try to get some rest.” Mary would close her eyes and try to relax but a few seconds later her eyes would pop open and the tears would fall again.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Mary was prescribed some medication to help her sleep but at times it didn’t seem to take effect at all, no matter how often she took it.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">So one night I was at my wit’s end with my sister’s insomnia, it was two in the morning and Mary was going over 24 hours without sleep. Mary looked so exhausted, she was staring to get dark rings under her eyes and it seemed that Mary wasn’t going to have the sleep she so desperately needed. I sat by her bed and started to stroke her hair, over and over I would whisper, “Sleepy time Mamas, it’s sleepy time.,” as Mary struggled to relax so I started softly sing,<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Sleepy time, close your eyes, time for mimis say good night;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">sleepy time, sleepy time, my love;<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">sleepy time, say good night, time for sleeping, close your eyes;<br />
sleepy time, sleepy time, my love.”©<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As I softly sang to my sister the Sleepy Time Song, softly stroking my sister’s hair, she gently started to drift off to sleep. I couldn’t believe it! I sat quietly and watched my sister sleep peacefully in her bed. “Is that it? She just needed a lullaby?” I thought. What a fool I was! Some thing so simple as a lullaby could help Mary relax and put her at ease to the point was she was able to go sleep. No drug could have done it; just love and compassion. So I tippy-toed out of my sister’s bedroom as she slept quietly.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">After that when my sister had a difficult time sleeping, all I had to do was sing the Sleepy Time Song© and my sister would gently drift to sleep. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I’ve only sung this song twice since my sister went back to heaven, once at her vigil and a month after her passing at the cemetery. I love you Mamas, I miss you but know we will see each other again.<o:p></o:p></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-80036570897903887952010-12-15T20:03:00.001-08:002012-04-16T13:26:18.193-07:00Something Simple<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sometimes you can find a hidden jewel in the midst of piles and piles of stuff. So my mom and I started the task of going through small white night stand that has two dresser drawers in my sister's bedroom.<br />
It was full of all kinds of items and medical paperwork that belonged to my sister Mary Magdalene.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> Some were medical papers were dated as far when Mary was first diagnosed with MS. Paper trails of all the different companies of In Home Service for Mary; I am so grateful to each of them because they taught me so many valuable lessons in caring for my sister.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQmPdFFt_1I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/IfGEMqwtEgQ/s1600/Mary%2527s+picture.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQmPdFFt_1I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/IfGEMqwtEgQ/s200/Mary%2527s+picture.jpg" width="135" /></a>However, in the midst of paperwork was a hidden jewel that took both my mom and I by surprise. We found a small bright yellow plastic box that had three stickers of multicolor fishes and two black and white penguins on the top lid. In the box we found pictures of Mary’s Grad Night at San Gabriel High School, an old bus pass of my mom when she worked as a MTA bus driver. There were pictures of our family along with pictures of Mary’s friends from high school. We found a CD case with artist like The Cars, Stone Temple Pilot, Alice In Chains, the Police and cassette of Bryan Adams Cut Like A Knife; she was such a fan of 80’s music. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> To our surprise we found two certificates, one was of Mary’s First Holy Communion certificate (April 29, 1984), she was just eight years old at the time. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQpCxnydwkI/AAAAAAAAAFU/46k3vS1U5oA/s1600/sc000033d2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQpCxnydwkI/AAAAAAAAAFU/46k3vS1U5oA/s200/sc000033d2.jpg" width="138" /></a>I remember how lovely my sister looked when she made her First Holy Communion, all dressed in white with the exception of her little black paten shoes. We went to go eat after the mass to celebrate such a memorable occasion and of course she received presents for the occasion.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Then I found a small beige envelope; it had her Confirmation certificate. I had completely forgot that I was Mary’s sponsor for confirmation until I read the index card with her confirmation name (Alexandria after St. Alexandria) and my name was filled in as the sponsor. A picture of the Most Re. Carl A. Fisher, S.S.J.,D.D., Titular Bishop of Tlos Auxiliary Bishop of Los Angeles San Pedro Regional Bishop. <o:p></o:p>Bishop Fisher confirmed my sister on May 5, 1993 and passed away from his battle of cancer in September of 1993. I can visualize in heaven, Bishop Fisher walking up to my sister and introducing himself saying,"Hi Mary! Do you remember me?" I could see my sister leeringly looking at him and saying "No." then he would reply, "I'm Bishop Fisher, the one who anointed you at your confirmation mass." I could see Mary's facial expression starting to think as she stares at him, then light up and scream, "OOOHH YEAH!" as she wraps her arms around him. At that moment, both of them would be talking about the time of when my sister was confirmed at St Stephen's Catholic Church.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQpC6OVXvKI/AAAAAAAAAFY/3zEP1mWfB9U/s1600/sc000033d201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQpC6OVXvKI/AAAAAAAAAFY/3zEP1mWfB9U/s200/sc000033d201.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="138" /></a>I remember during this time of my sister’s two-year confirmation program, the Confirmation Coordinator had invited a special guest come one night to introduce to the teens a positive roll model. The guest just happened to be Oscar De La Hoya; he brought his gold medal he had won at the 1992 Olympics for boxing. Mary got to meet him, hold his gold medal and give him a hug. She was so happy when she came home that night. My family was watching television in the living room. My dad came into the house with Mary; she stood in the middle of the living room and was gleaming with excitement when she said, “You will never guess who I met tonight.” “Who did you meet?” We asked. “It was OSCAR DE LA HOYA!” screamed Mary. We were all completely shocked as Mary started to waive his autograph she said, “He is <i>so</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> cute! He is </span><i>so</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> tall and </span><i>BOY</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> did he smell </span><i>good</i><span style="font-style: normal;">!” “Mary, you met Oscar De La Hoya? That’s great Mija!” said my mom. Mary smiled then said, “Yeah Mom, I met him and he was </span><i>so</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> nice to everyone. He is a </span><i>cutie patutie</i><span style="font-style: normal;">!” We still have the autograph from Oscar De La Hoya and it's tucked away in Mary's grey plastic container along with other items that we just couldn't depart with because there are so many memories attached to them. At times when I look at the container, I feel as if I found a treasure chest filled with priceless memories.</span></div></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">Isn’t it extraordinary when you find something so simple that can spark such a domino effect of memories when you least expect it. </div></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQpHLVNE8SI/AAAAAAAAAFg/PyFtikIRVUc/s1600/sc000033d202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><br />
</div></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-61780975479408168642010-12-12T11:03:00.000-08:002011-02-23T10:39:15.407-08:00New Year Eve 2009<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQUa45KKgZI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6XzCBkIf7HY/s1600/102_1461.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQUa45KKgZI/AAAAAAAAAFE/6XzCBkIf7HY/s320/102_1461.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">The New Year is coming in a couple of weeks and I guess we will welcome it in without my sister Mary Magdalene. However, even though we know that she will always be with us in spirit, it doesn’t ease the pain of loss. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">On New Year Eve last year my dad did something that was so NOT my dad; he came home with a pack of party favors and a bottle of champagne to celebrate and welcome the up coming of the new year. My mom and dad just usually make menudo and go to be before midnight. However, on New Year’s Eve of 2009, my dad wanted to make sure we were all up and welcomed in the New Year as a family. As my dad placed the shopping bags on the dinning room table, he turned and seen that Mary was in the living room sitting quietly on her light blue lift chair watching television.<br />
“Are you ready to party Mary?” he asked.<br />
“Yeah dad, I am,” answered Mary. <br />
“Good! Because we are going to party together!” my dad said with a smile.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Surprisingly, my sister Mary Magdalene was with us until midnight. My parents, Mary and I all watched and waited for the Dick Clark Countdown, as we wore party hats, held horn makers and waited for the champagne as it was chilling in the refrigerator. My sister Mary Magdalene sat on a beige lift chair and wore her purple Eeyore sweatshirt, light blue sockies and matching Eeyore pajama bottoms. Waiting patiently, we all did the counted down together<br />
“Five, four, three, two one….Happy New Year!!” we all shouted as we watched the ball fall and welcomed in 2010.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I popped the champagne and started to pour into the champagne glass, my dad kissed my mom as Mary tried with all her might to blow on her horn maker.<br />
“Blow harder Mija!” said my dad as he held Mary’s horn maker firmly to Mary’s mouth. Mary wore a silver party hat that matched her horn maker to boot!<br />
“HHonkk!” went Mary’s horn and we all cheered,<br />
”Yeah Mamas! You did it! Honk it again,” Mary took a deep breath and then,<br />
“hhHonkkk!” went Mary’s horn.<br />
“I’m tired of honking,” Mary said and we all cheered for her, it was a great way for all of us to bring in the New Year. I popped the champagne and started to pour it into champagne glass; then my dad made the toast,<br />
” I just want to thank everyone for staying up and celebrating as a family. God willing we will all be together same time next year. I love you all,” as his voice cracked with emotions.<br />
” Happy New Year!” we all cheered as we rose our glasses together for the toast.<br />
” Ugh! This stuff is gross!” Mary sipped the champagne, made a sour face as we all smiled and laughed together. I took her glass then I gave her the biggest hug and said, “Happy New Year Mamas, I love you so much. I’ll give you some juice instead of champagne.” “Thanks Emils,” answered Mary.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> I will always keep this memory in my heart and when I think about how we celebrated New Year’s 2009, it will always brings a smile on my face. Just a note to my sister Mary Magdalene: “Happy New Years Mamas, I know heaven is timeless but you can still be with us when we welcome the New Year 2011. I love you and miss you much.” Love Emils<o:p></o:p></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-40202535309815490372010-12-10T21:59:00.001-08:002012-04-24T13:24:55.453-07:00My Three F's<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">The purple stars are still hanging in Mary’s room. Mary’s bulletin board, pictures and decorations still hang on the wall in Mary’s room. A white dresser with six drawers and mirror, DVD player and television stand and all of Mary's DVD collection are still in Mary’s bedroom. On Mary's dresser are picture of herself hugging Eeyore at Disneyland, three little Eeyore figures, along with family photos and M&M figures. The hospital bed is gone along with all the hospital equipment. No matter how we arrange things in Mary’s bedroom it will always seem empty. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">Even if we removed every single piece of memorandum of Mary from her bedroom, it will always be Mary’s bedroom. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">Sometime, I just sit quietly in Mary’s bedroom; I close my eyes and recall the good times we shared together. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">Before I start my morning prayers, I always invite my sister Mary Magdalene to pray with me. During my reflection and meditation time of prayer I talk with Mary. I may not get an answer from her but I know she is listening to me and that gives me peace. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">Don’t get me wrong, there are still times the title wave of grief comes and knock me down with no warning or mercy. At times like these, the loss of Mary seems like only yesterday.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">I never thought I would ever feel any kind of peace after losing my sister. I guess time does eventually start to heal the wound of loss but is sure leaves a deep tender scare. I feel that my wound is just starting the process of healing but like a deep cut; it’s going to take some time to get better. My tunnel has been so dark since my Mamas has been gone even though I know she is in a better place. It give me a calmness of repose to know that God has been constantly showering my family and I with His graces and through it all I believe these are the graces come to us, I call them my three “<span style="color: red;">F</span>’s”. With the help of my three “<span style="color: red;">F</span>’s” I have now actually started to see a very small dim light at the end of my tunnel where I felt that there was no light at all. I truly believe that my three "<span style="color: #fd0000;">F</span>s” have helped me up and kept me going forward.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">Through the love and support of my <span style="color: #fd0000;">F</span>aith, <span style="color: #fd0000;">F</span>amily and <span style="color: #fd0000;">F</span>riends, I have been slowly healing from my losing my sister.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">I just want to say thank you to all my <span style="color: #fd0000;">F</span>amily, <span style="color: #fd0000;">F</span>riends and my <span style="color: #fd0000;">F</span>aith in God for walking with my parents and I.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">To my <span style="color: red;">F</span>aith, I just want to thank God for the thousands of hours in prayer I have spent crying while my sister was suffering, for the times I felt over helmed and thought I couldn't go on one more day, for the times I felt the helplessness and fear of not being able to ease my sister’s pain. When Mary finally left us, only God's grace was able to fill the huge void in my heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">Only time is going to heal my wound but I know God is with me every step of the way.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">To my <span style="color: red;">F</span>amily, I just want to thank your for the unconditional love we have received from everyone that has been such a solid beam of support. Through tragedy comes blessings and we are grateful for the phone calls, prayers and visits that come to us help us heal.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;">To my <span style="color: red;">F</span>riends, I am so thankful for the many, many endless hours I have spent on the phone with you. For waking you up at the late evenings and early mornings as I was going through my process of grief. As I cried, laughed and at times rambled on, you have given me your love, patience,support, prayers and your presences on the phone and just being there for my family and I.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue;"> I know our lives will never be the same but we do know we a better person because of Mary Magdalene Rodriguez. I know Mary’s intervention is continuously looking after my three “<span style="color: #fd0000;">F</span>’s” and for that I just want to say, “Thanks Mamas, we love you and miss you too.”</span><o:p></o:p></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-70049596786839113832010-12-10T21:18:00.000-08:002011-03-01T17:54:47.144-08:00Mary's Closet<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember talking to my mom about my sister Mary’s closet. Since Mary Magdalene passed away on October 29<sup>th</sup> of this year, her closet has not been touched. Her clothes and shoes still in her closet, pajamas and blouses in her dresser drawers all remained untouched. My mom and I would bring up the subject about going through Mary’s clothes and shoes to see what may donate to a non-profit organization but it seemed too painful and too soon. Just now, I can honest feel that Mary is actually gone. It hasn’t been easy going into her closet and seeing clothes and shoes that will never again be worn by Mary. Two years ago when Mary would have plasmapheresis procedure done at the hospital, she would be gone for about a month. It took ten days for the plasmapheresis procedure to be done, and then she would have occupational and physical therapy till the end of the month. She had plasmapheresis done quarterly so she would be gone four months out of the year. I kept thinking that Mary was at the hospital; however now, I finally realized that she isn’t. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Once again the subject of Mary’s clothes came up in conversations with my mom and I. “There are clothes hanging in Mary’s closet that can cloth someone who is in need of clothes, we need to donate Mary’s clothes to someone who has none. Maybe next year we can go through them, okay Mom?” “Well maybe next time when we get a donation bag left at our front door we can go through them,” answered my mom. “Okay, that’s sound good.” I said. I was hoping that we wouldn’t receive a donation bag any time soon; I thought we would not be looking into donating Mary’s clothes until next year, I was wrong.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">This past Monday a non-profit organization left a donation bag at our front door with a paper stating, “Will pick up on Friday, please have bag out by 8:00 am.” It was a non-profit organization for at-risk youth and families dealing with drug and alcohol abuse. I picked it off our door and showed it to my mom and she said, “I guess we were going Mary’s clothes sooner than later.” I looked at my mom in dismay and said, “I guess so.” My mom looked surprised at me and said,” Who is the one who was talking about clothing the naked and giving to those who have none,” “I know, I know, I just thought we wouldn’t get anything until next year, that all.” I said. My mom puttered towards me with her walker and gave me a hug then said, “Mija, we need to do this, we need to be strong. You know Mary wouldn’t mind if we gave her clothes to someone who has none.” “I know, your right. I just didn’t think it would come so soon,” I said. “I know but we talked about it and I think it’s time because here is a donation bag. We haven’t gotten one in months so I think Mary is trying to tell us that it’s time,” answered my mom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">The next morning my mom and I started to go through Mary’s closet and dresser drawers in her bedroom.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> As I picked up each piece of clothing and I got a flash back of my sister Mary. I closed my eyes and I could see in my mind Mary wearing each blouse I held in my hand. I picked up her shoes and I remember taking her shopping for each pair. I held a favorite blouse of my sister and plunged my face in it, it had Mary’s scent and I just started to cry as I buried my face in her blouse. I looked up to find my mom doing the same. “I know it’s hard but we need to do it Mija,” cried my mom as tears ran down her face. “I know, but it isn’t easy,” I said. “I never said it was going to be easy, I said it has to be done,” answered my mom. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As we filled the several bags with shoes, blouses, t-shirts; each one had a memory attached to it. We had a total of four full bags and they were picked up the very next day. Mary’s clothes were doing anyone any service just hanging in her closet. After today, at least we know they will be hanging in someone else’s closet to clothed someone else. Both my mom and I kept an item or two because of sentimental value and I know Mary would understand.<o:p></o:p></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-1559452168925682062010-12-09T18:31:00.000-08:002010-12-10T11:45:41.680-08:00coffee<div class="MsoNormal">Before Multiple Sclerosis completely took control of my sister’s life, my sister Mary Magdalene would get up every morning and make a fresh pot of coffee. What’s amusing about this was Mary didn’t like coffee. She didn’t eat or drink anything that had caffeine in it but that didn’t stop her from making her usually pot of coffee every morning for us. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">While I would be getting ready for my day, I could open your bedroom door and the aroma of coffee would be filling the morning air; I could hear the gurgling of the coffee machine brewing and I love it.</div><div class="MsoNormal">My morning wasn't complete until I had a cup of Mary's freshly brewed coffee. My sister would be in the living room watching television or playing the Wii with my mom when I would go into the kitchen for my morning coffee.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Thanks Mary for making the coffee!” I said as I pulled out my travel mug and filled up for the morning. “Your welcome Emils” answered Mary from the living room. My mom would already have her steamy cup of coffee by her side as she and Mary played bowling on the Wii in the living room. Mary was our official automatic coffee maker and she wore this title proudly and with a smile. I know Mary loved making the coffee because this was one way of Mary showing how much she cared about us. A simple cup of hot coffee made by love is the best kind of coffee you can have and no coffee shop or café can beat it. Mother Theresa once said, “Do small things with great love.” My sister practiced this by simply making us a pot of coffee for us every morning. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Now that Mary has gone back to heaven, I sure miss the aroma and sounds of coffee being brewing every morning because I knew Mary was up for the day and made her famous pot of coffee for us. My dad or I now usually make the morning coffee but it just not the same. <o:p></o:p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-89196667859601149572010-12-08T19:34:00.000-08:002011-02-25T13:56:49.421-08:00Why is my name Mary Magdalene?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQUkeV0TaJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/gQM9o9XUUZw/s1600/sc000a0491.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TQUkeV0TaJI/AAAAAAAAAFM/gQM9o9XUUZw/s200/sc000a0491.jpg" width="146" /></a></div>I remember one day my sister Mary Magdalene asked, “Why did mom and dad name me Mary Magdalene? Wasn’t she a prostitute?” I chuckled and said, “No. Mom and dad named you Mary Magdalene because she was the very first person to see Jesus after his resurrection from the dead. The twelve Apostles didn’t see him until later but Mary Magdalene seen him right after He left the tomb!' Mary answered, “Truthfully?” I said, “Yep truthfully, Mamas, you have a beautiful name of a person who was the closest friend of Jesus <i>and</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> the first one to see him after he rose for the dead.” “Then why does everyone tell me she was a prostitute?” she asked. “It has never been proven in the bible that Mary Magdalene was actually a prostitute</span><span style="font-style: normal;">” I said. “Okay Emils,” Mary sighed. I knew Mary was not convinced with my answers because she questioned me again later on in the day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Then why can’t I find any picture, metal or statue of Mary Magdalene if she was so great?” asked Mary.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I was running out of answers and patients so I said,” Just remember at the beginning of every Easter Season, your name is mentioned every year. The gospel always reads about how Mary Magdalene finds Jesus out of the tomb and she is so happy to see him, okay?" I said. Mary sighed, gave a half smile and said, “Okay Emils,” I looked at my sister’s sad expression and told her, “Look Kiddo, I bet you I can find something on Mary Magdalene and when I do I will show you, okay?” She lit up with a smile and said, ”Cool Emils! Thanks!”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> I was determined to find a medal, picture or book about Mary Magdalene. I had the hardest time finding anything on St. Mary Magdalene. I went to bookstores, Catholic stores but I couldn’t find at the time a medal or picture of St. Mary Magdalene. So I called a close friend of mine and told him about my dilemma, he said, “Why don’t’ you wait and see if you find anything at the Los Angeles Catholic Archdiocese Congress. I am sure you will find something for Mary there because there are hundreds of vendors selling all kinds of religious items.” “That is a GREAT idea! Thanks!” I said as I hung up the phone. On the Saturday of Congress, I went on my quest for my sister and I wasn’t coming home until I found anything on St Mary Magdalene.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">It took several long hours of looking, asking and inquiring about St. Mary Magdalene with different vendors. I almost lost hope until I passed by a vendor who sold tiles of Catholic Saints. All the saints where lined up in alphabetical order so I looked for the letter M and there I end up finding a beautiful tile of St Mary Magdalene.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">She was so beautiful, she had long brown hair (just like my sister), big brown eyes (just like my sister), dressed in white and was holding a grey jar. The jar represented the incense she used when Jesus was placed in the tomb. I bought it and went straight home to give the tile to my sister, thanking God all the way home for helping me find such a beautiful tile of a wonderful woman.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I got home and asked my mom where was Mary, “She’s in her room, why?” asked my mom,“I have a surprise for her" I said as I walked down the small hallway to her bedroom.<br />
I knocked on her door, “Who is it?” said Mary.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">“It’s me Emils and I have a surprise for you, can I come in?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Okay” answered Mary. I walked in and Mary was laying down resting on her bed as she watched television. I asked Mary to close her eyes and hold out your hands because I had a surprise to give her. I helped Mary sit up on her bed and cautiously held out her hands and closed her eyes. “Surprise!” I yelled as I took the tile of St Mary Magdalene out of the bag and placed it in her hands. “Oh Wow Emils! You did it! You found Mary Magdalene!” yelled Mary. “Yes Mamas, I did! I hope you like.” “I do, I do. Thank you so much. I love it!” Mary said.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Your welcome Mamas, now let’s see where you want to hang you tile so you can always see and remember who Mary Magdalene was and be proud that mom and dad gave you such a beautiful name, okay?” “Yeah, let’s hang it!” answered Mary. She was smiling from ear to ear and was glad to have an image of who she was named after hanging in her bedroom. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">This is one of many, many loving memories I have of my sister Mary Magdalene Rodriguez. Next year’s Easter Season will be a painful since my sister will not be with us, she always smiled when she heard her name mentioned in the gospel reading during the Easter Season. However, this coming Easter Season she will be smiling in heaven as her name is mentioned in the gospel reading of Jesus’s resurrection. She will probably nudge St Mary Magdalene and say, “Look, they are talking about us!”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Over two thousands years ago Mary Magdalene was the first person to witness the resurrection of Jesus. Two thousand years later, my sister Mary Magdalene coming from twelve siblings is the first to meet our resurrected Jesus. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I miss you Mamas but I know you are okay, love you! <o:p></o:p></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-40268916887353230232010-12-06T16:19:00.000-08:002010-12-06T19:48:45.793-08:00No More<div class="MsoNormal">“No more Emils, no more.” Mary said as her eyes filled with tears. I had just given her daily injection of steroids in her left arm. To my surprise, the medication squirted out of that same left arm about two inches above of when I injected her medication.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As I looked in her eyes, I could just see how tired she was feeling; I knew she was tired of 15 daily pills, daily injections of steroids, hospitals, needles, IV’s, experimental procedures, doctor appointments and pain.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I cleaned off the medication that was running down her arm and said, “Okay Mamas, no more.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember when we took Mary to the neurologist and were given two options to prolong Mary’s life. One drug had a side effect of a brain infection and the other drug had a side effect of an enlarged heart and leukemia. By this time Mary was very limited in communication and was permanently in a wheel chair. Mary couldn't hold herself up so we had to keep her strapped in so she won’t fall off her wheel chair.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">The neurologist was insisting that her life could be prolonged but did not guarantee the Mary’s life would be improved with either drug. “It would just prolong her life,” said the doctor. “Really? What kind of life would Mary have? She can barely talk; she can’t walk; she having problems hold her food down among many other medical issues. Will any of these drugs improve her quality of life at all?” we asked. “No,” said the doctor. “If Mary is given the drug with side effect of a brain infection, how will the brain infection be diagnosed? She is barely able to speak to us now” asked my dad. “We would need to conduct an MRI but then we need to consider the radiation she will be exposed to,” replied the doctor. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">A dead silence filled the doctor’s office as we ran out of questions and options to help us make a clear decision on Mary's future. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As all three of us walked out of the doctor’s office and as I pushed Mary in her wheelchair, we already knew that we were not going to be returning back.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">When we got home, we researched both drugs that were suggested by the neurologist. Due to Mary’s failing health, we knew both drugs had very grave side effects for Mary so we sat as a family and asked Mary what did she think, she replied, “No more, I just want to be home. Can I just be home?”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">“Yes Mary, we will keep you home and as long we can, okay?” Mary started to cry as did we coming to the decision of “No more,”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s so hard for my family to come to terms of the decision of “No more” but that is what Mary wanted so we needed to focus on quality of Mary’s life and to think of her and not ourselves.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Slowly, every day that passed we had seen that all the medications in the world were not going to Mary any better.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember sitting in my own doctor’s office because I ended up coming down with bronchitis. My doctor asked how was my family and I told him what was happening with my sister Mary and just started crying and said, “I don’t know what to do? My mom and I talked about placing Mary in hospice but we are not sure. We are so scared and it hurts so much.” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">My doctor told me that if you are thinking about hospice then chances are you need their services. He gave me a brochure and I took it home to show my parents. <o:p></o:p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-30445615522106739852010-11-30T10:42:00.000-08:002010-12-01T12:39:50.854-08:00Step by Step, Inch by Inch....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TPUyakOR-4I/AAAAAAAAAFA/vYJmcGd5QgA/s1600/securedownload.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xB3slSkzd6E/TPUyakOR-4I/AAAAAAAAAFA/vYJmcGd5QgA/s320/securedownload.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">I was listening to a CD the other day that was given to us by a bereavement social worker from the hospice facility that took care of my sister Mary Magdalene and our family. It talks about the different ways people deal with losing someone you love. I couldn’t help but take notice to the track that talks about keeping yourself busy. I remember all during the hospice experience we had a woman who came every week to pray with us, she was the spiritual support of the hospice program. Dana was her name and I will always remember how she would compare my sister and I to the Martha and Mary verses of the bible. “Your mom should have named you Martha, Emilia; because Martha was the busy one and you are certainly very busy every time I come to visit,” said Dana. I would just laugh and say, “No Dana, my name is Emilia and I can’t help but be busy.” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As I listen to the CD this memory of Dana's comment comes to mind. Now, I can completely relate to this track of busyness and Dana's comment. Before my sister passed away, I was very busy taking care of my sister and assisting my dad looking after my mom, the only time I had to rest was when I actually slept at night. However, I have been finding myself trying to stay busy since my sister Mary Magdalene passed away. It’s very hard not to because the more busier I am, the more I don’t have to think about the pain and grief that is in my heart. I just do the task at hand and I don’t really have to think about anything else.<br />
For example, I usually don’t decorate for the Christmas Holiday until the week before Christmas. Since we are Catholic, the season of Advent just started so for the next four weeks we are preparing for the coming of Jesus. For Catholics, Christmas season starts on Christmas day and ends on the day of the baptism of Jesus. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">However, this year has be very different since my sister Mary Magdalene will not be with us physically, just in our mind, hearts and spirit. This past weekend, I removed the autumn decorations and replaced them with Christmas decorations inside and outside of my parent’s home. Going back about a year ago, Mary received an Italian fern as a Christmas present from my dad’s cousins. She was so happy to receive it as the tiny tree that sat in a small pot wrapped in red foil, and a mini present wrapped with a red ribbon was tied on one of the branches of the tree as it sat on her dresser for two weeks. After New Year's Day we transferred it into a big pot in the back yard. I put Mary into her wheelchair and rolled her outside onto the deck of my parent’s home so she can see what happened to her tree. “Wait and see Mamas, once your tree grows stronger, we will plant in the yard and we will always have a Christmas tree every year. It’ll be Mary’s tree!” I said.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> “Wow Emils, that’s so cool!” smiled Mary as she looked at the direction of where her little tree was potted in the back yard. This past summer a couple of my brothers planted Mary’s tree in the middle of the front yard. By this time the MS had total control of Mary and she didn’t have the strength or the sight to see where her tree was planted so I described it to her as she laid in her bed. “Hey Mamas, your tree is in the front yard, it strong enough to be on it’s own. Our brothers put it right in the middle of the front yard so this coming Christmas we will be able to decorate it, it's going to look so pretty!” Mary smiled and blinked her eyes so I knew she understood what I had said and was just as excited. We were in looking forward to the coming of the Christmas season. I was so looking forward in rolling my sister out in her wheelchair to my parent's front yard to show her how much her tree as grown. Then, a ask her how she would like her tree to be decorated for Christmas. Little did either of us know at that my sister was not going to be here with us this Christmas season.<br />
So here is a note to my sister Mary Magdalene concerning her tree:<br />
Hey Mamas, do you like your tree? Isn’t it beautiful? It grew big enough so I was able to decorate this year. Can you see it? I know you can see it from heaven, I just want you to know that I will be decorating it every year. Once I finish decorating it, I'll look up to heaven and ask you what do ya think, okay Mamas? I love you and miss you but I now need to figure out how to start slowing down. So please, can you help me Mamas? With your intervention and God's grace, I know one day to take it a little slower every day. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Love…..Emils<o:p></o:p></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-84944803344997054502010-11-28T08:53:00.000-08:002010-12-09T00:14:04.062-08:00Decorating for the Thanksgiving Holiday<div class="MsoNormal">As I decorated for the fall season as I always do, I could help but feel the missing presence of my sister Mary Magdalene.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember at this time of the year when I would start to decorate for the fall and Christmas season; Mary would always be watching me from her lift chair and I would always ask her how the decorations looked. I have a pumpkin that had small little lights all around it's eyes, nose and mouth that changes colors, along with a set of scarecrows that illuminate also in the same manner and would be placed in the living-room on small round tables. I also had some collectable bears with a Fall theme from a famous coffee shop that I would place around the living room. “How this Kiddo?” as I would be placing the fall garland around the window, “It’s okay,” replied Mary. </div><div class="MsoNormal"> I would place the glass pumpkins, scarecrows on the deck’s ledge and sting up the foil garland and soft yellow lights around the deck. “What do you Mamas, do you like it?” Mary would reply, “It’s okay.”<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">This year I didn’t have my sister around to ask for her expertise on how I was doing in decorating our parent's home. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">This was the first Thanksgiving without my sister Mary and my heart ached. I wanted so much to see her face light up when she would eat the stuffing from my parent’s famous turkey and she loved cranberry sauce. I miss her sitting down in the living room to watch football with my dad and brothers. I miss asking her, “How you doing Mamas?” and hearing her say, “I’m okay.” Mary’s smile would tell me that she was more then just “okay”. She loved Thanksgiving because that was a time to soak up being surrounded by the family she so truly loved. I know she loved to see the decorations of the holiday. She would putter around in her walker just to see the decorations that lit up the deck of our parent’s home. As she stood at the sliding window of the deck, I would ask her, “Do you like it?” she would reply, “Yep, it looks nice Emils!” and would stare at the flickering candle light of the glass pumpkins and warm yellow lights that lit up the deck for the evening. <o:p></o:p></div><span style="font-family: Arial;">This year was very different since Mary left us, I know she is in a better place but I sure miss her! I miss you Mamas! It doesn’t feel the same, it feels like something is missing and when I turn to see what is missing, I realize that it is you. I know decorating won’t feel the same because your not here to give me you expertise in decorating. However, because I love you and because I know how much you enjoyed seeing the decorations of the season I will continue to do it. I know you are watching us from heaven and I just wanted to let you know that I will always decorate for the holidays. I love you Mary Magdalene, I always have and I always will. I am thankful that you are my sister and I had 34 beautiful years of living and loving you. </span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4919676405193173155.post-19842817362787192262010-11-26T18:53:00.001-08:002012-04-14T16:26:23.665-07:00You're Right<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="MsoNormal">Sometimes life seems to be so unfair and cruel and you question why bad things happen to good people. My sister Mary Magdalene was twenty-three years old and just starting junior college and worked part time and seemed to be on the right track of a bright future. In September of 97’, Mary Magdalene started to feel sick but it took over six months before we got a diagnosis of her illness.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I remember on February 14, 1998 my mom and sister came home from the neurologist and told the rest of our family that Mary was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. At that time we did not understand the severity of the disease because none of us ever heard of Multiple Sclerosis. From that day on, Mary life was going to change dramatically and unbeknownst to us so would our lives too. I remember as my sister started her steroid treatments and taking up to 15 different pills a day and take daily injection. After a year of her diagnosis, she had a complete nervous break down. However, Mary Magdalene came back and was determined not to let MS bring her world to a stop. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">At times Mary struggled with depression and she would say to me,<br />
“I am going to die before you because I have MS.” There was a thirteen-year difference between my sister and I and I would look at her and answer back,<br />
”Oh yeah, Well I prove you wrong, I will go and play in the freeway to prove to you that I can die before you.” Mary would laugh and let me know how stupid I was acting and just smile. I then said, “You know Kiddo, only God know when we are going to die and it doesn’t matter if you have MS or not,” “No, no your wrong, I am going to die before you cause I have MS,” she said and start to cry. For years Mary would bring up death and I would bring up my freeway adventure.<o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As time passed and the MS started to slowly taking over Mary’s life, I still would not concede to my sister’s statement of her dying before me. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Two weeks before my sister passed away I came to accept what my sister had been saying for years. If I closed my eyes I could see my sister’s face and hear her say “I am going to die before you because I have MS.” <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"> I went into my sister’s bedroom I sat right next to her hospital bed and said,<br />
“Mary I have something to tell you.” My sister slowly turned her head and looked at me with her huge brown eyes. <br />
“You are right, you were right all along.” With the look on her face, she knew exactly what I was talking,<br />
“I can’t go play in the freeway, who will take care of mom and dad? You were right and I was wrong,it looks like you are going before me. I just wanted to let you know that you were right. I love you Mamas, and I'm going to miss you when your gone,”<br />
Mary looked at me smiled then we both started to cry. My mom had been diagnosed with Parkinson six years ago so along with caring for my sister; I would help my dad with my mom. <o:p></o:p></div><span style="font-family: Arial;">I had to let MaryMagdalene know that I was wrong and she was right even though for years I would not believe or accept what she had told me for years; </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">I just couldn’t bring myself to accept the fact that I may have to live without my younger sister.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"> Mary Magdalene was slowly dying before our eyes because the complications of MS just kept growing and we had no way of stopping it from happening. </span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13589448686559680994noreply@blogger.com1