The day we rescued my Mom

It was early in 2020 that we first started hearing about the Coronavirus (COVID-19).

At first, it didn’t affect our lives in any way! My husband, Harv, and I were in Florida enjoying the heat, the golf, the ocean, barbecues, Pickleball, church suppers, the pool and walking the long stretches of the Gulf coast. Like everyone else in North America, we didn’t think the virus would ever affect our day-to-day lives.

We were wrong.

The whole world was affected by the virus very quickly, and very quickly we were on our way home from the sunny south to not-quite-spring in Kincardine.

Life changed for all of us overnight. What we took for granted was no more. Two things were heartbreaking for me, personally. We couldn’t attend our local church and we couldn’t visit my Mom in her retirement home.

I have attended church pretty much every Sunday for 62 years and it was shocking to me that the churches were closed. I cried most Sunday mornings as the new normal began … something called Zoom.

The second thing that broke my heart was that my Mom was in lockdown in her retirement residence. We called every day and arranged FaceTime calls but for five months, not one of my siblings or her grandchildren had access to visit her.

To make matters worse, the dining room in her residence was also closed. So, my 99-year-old mother ate all her meals alone in her room for five months. Tears, tears and more tears.

My Mom’s name is Alice Lula Castle (nee Fetterly). When she was only two years old, her own mother passed away suddenly, leaving behind my Mom and her eight-month-old baby sister. Their father was not able to care for his children and the girls were soon adopted by their maternal grandparents - Lou and Harry Hollister.

Mom often spoke glowingly of these two people, who lovingly raised the girls as their own. They lived at 13 Elm Street in Cornwall, Ontario. Mom’s great grandmother, born around 1850, lived with them until Mom was 10 - so she knew family members for 171 years - eight generations.

She and my Dad, Stan, were married in 1938 and raised nine children who produced 27 grandchildren! That generation continued the family line and 72 great-grandchildren were added to the family! Then eight great, great-grandchildren - 162 of us, to date!

Mom turned 100 years old last July, but the huge celebration we had planned was whittled down to 15 people from 150 – thanks to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Just as Mom’s retirement home opened up in the fall for two of my siblings to have in-room visits - once a week for one hour - it closed down again. We determined, as a family, we would not leave Mom alone for the long winter days and nights ahead. No way. It was not going to happen.

So, Harv and I, along with my siblings, freed Mom! We broke her out!

Mom came to live with us around the middle of November. She arrived on a blustery Sunday afternoon - the waves were high, the wind was intense, the sky was filled with a snowy rain mixture - but our hearts were filled with joy. Mom was home.

No more eating alone.

No more long days looking out the window at the wall of the next building.

No more days of not getting a hug or a touch or a caress.

No more days full of tears.

No more!

Mom’s days would be filled with all the love Harv and I could give her. Her view from her bedroom would be of the Caribbean-blue water of Lake Huron (well, not so blue once the snow started to fly). She wouldn’t wonder if the staff brought her lunch or supper. She wouldn’t lie on her bed all day long - unmotivated to get up.

We would sing hymns and songs. We would chat. We would read. We would rest. We would be with her. We would hug her and kiss her good night. We would take care of her as she had lovingly cared for her family in years gone by.

Mom cared for her parents (her grandparents) and nursed them through their old age, and both her parents died at home. We were trusting we could do the same for her. Mom used to say when she was a young woman that only poor people went to “old age homes!”

When Mom moved in, we thought we might have access to some home care from an agency but that didn’t work out. I play Pickleball in town and several of us are in a FaceBook group where we share life together. Immediately after realizing I didn’t have access to any home care, I asked my Pickleball friends if anybody knew where I could get some help.

Before I could close my computer, I had the names of two retired nurses who were interested in helping us. The next day, both women agreed to each spend two hours per day with Mom - to help with her personal care and give Harv and me some date time! These two women were angels - Mom loved them and they loved her.

We ate all our meals together, either in Mom’s room or in our dining room. Mom loved using good china and always set a lovely table. I tried to make it special for her that way.

One morning, I prepared mom’s smoothie for her and I must have been a bit tired. I poured the contents of the prepared fruit into her glass - popped the straw in the class and took it into her room. She took one sip and refused the rest. I thought it odd but didn’t argue with her. A little while later I noticed that the smoothie was quite lumpy and realized I tried to feed her leftover gravy! We both had a laugh over that!

Mom longed for Heaven and looked forward to going “Home” to be with Jesus. She looked forward to seeing Dad and Tim and Bill and Randy, and countless numbers of family and friends. And yet she lived. And as she lived on, she lived with us.

Two weeks ago, Mom had a couple of minor strokes or TIAs. They took their toll on her and left her physically and emotionally weakened. We really thought we were going to lose her that day. My sister, Susan, who is a nurse, came to stay with us to help care for Mom. Sadly, over the next 12 days, we watched Mom lose her appetite and grow weaker and weaker.

It was a “village” that gathered to help us walk Mom the rest of her earthly journey - a wonderful doctor in our community reached out to us after hearing our story to give us wisdom and guidance; a team from the Local Health Integration Network (LHIN), including caring nurses, stopped by our home to monitor Mom and encourage us; our pastor from our church came by to pray with us; and my brother, Phil, and his wife, Gwen (also a nurse), came to help and gently care for Mom.

Monday, Jan. 25, at 11:50 p.m., Mom went peacefully to Heaven, surrounded by a few of her large family - knowing she was loved and cared for; dying at home as she had hoped.

I really thought we’d have more time. That’s a funny thing to say when a person is already 100-and-a-half, but I thought Mom would be with us until the summer or next year. We had prepared ourselves to postpone travelling, to put those things on the back-burner so that Mom wouldn’t live alone.

Some would say we were sacrificing but we would say it wasn’t a sacrifice at all. It was the right thing to do. It’s what we could do for a woman who had done so much for her family throughout her 100 years of living and giving.

It was Ralph Waldo Emerson who said, “All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen.” I have watched my mother trust the Lord all my life. I have watched her through hard times and easy times - through thick and thin - through grief and joy. I have seen it with my own eyes. And now I have watched her go from this life to the next. Her faith was her strength.

One night, I was tucking Mom into bed and I said to her, “Are you afraid?” She sat up and took my face in her hands and looked me in the eye and said, “Absolutely not”! My Mom’s faith became her reality. She has seen her Lord face-to-face. She is reunited with our Dad.

She has met her very own mother and I do think it was a pretty sweet reunion.