I don't know where to begin.
Last year was the hardest, most devastating year of my life. Never have I felt so unmoored, rudderless and adrift, watching the dock grow smaller and smaller, unable to reach a lifeline.
2020 aged me. 2021 tried to kill me.
I've attempted to write something, anything a thousand times, but I could not break through the fog. Hell, I couldn't process it all, let alone articulate what I was feeling, thinking, avoiding. I was numb, on autopilot. I have no idea where this is going, so please forgive me if this is all over the fucking place. I'll try not to soil your shoes as I vomit my feelings all over this blog. Welcome to my therapy, MOFOs! LOLOL
2021 started off with so much promise. A viable Covid vaccine was already being administered, two in fact, and my beloved Big Mar's senior residence was slated to be among the first to be vaccinated. When she got her first dose on January 18th, I cried. She was going to make it through this GD pandemic! The stress of working at the station and being the only member of the family permitted to help care for her was a weight as heavy as an anchor. But because of those amazing scientists, she was going to make it. Hallelujah! After being separated for the holidays, we were finally going to be together as a family again.
At 4am on Valentine's Day morning, I got a call from my sister, Toni, that Mum had fallen in her apartment. She had fallen without injury a few times in the months prior, but this time was different. This time she broke her back. My other sister, Vicki was on the phone with Big Mar until both the paramedics and Toni arrived. It was still heavy duty Covid times, so only one of us was permitted in the emergency room at a time. Toni and I took turns sitting with her, talking to doctors, making decisions. In the afternoon, the decision was made to transport her to AGH where a geriatric specialist would diagnose her injuries and formulate a treatment. We followed the ambulance to the hospital, but quickly found out only one of us was allowed in the hospital. They wouldn't let us swap out.
So I stayed.
By myself.
Trying to keep it together without my two rocks, Geo and Toni. Watching my Mom wince in excruciating pain, whispering "Help me", and me powerless to do anything to help her besides keeping her still. I try to push it down, but I still hear her little voice pleading with me.
By the time the specialist arrived at 9pm, she was barely able to speak. What few answers she gave were unintelligible. I thought it was the pain meds taking hold, but that was wishful thinking and denial. She had very little urine output. I knew her kidneys were failing, but I didn't want to say it out loud. Again, denial. I wanted to believe she would be okay, that she would recover by wearing a back brace, which, come on, she was 99. That would have been torture for her. Eventually they found a room for her, and I went home.
At 4am the phone rang.
The telephone ring sounds different when there's bad news on the other end. I don't know why or how that is, but it's different. You know immediately something is wrong. It was her doctor. We had to make a decision. To keep her on an IV and put her through dialysis,
or to let her ... go ... peacefully into the light.
Calling my siblings that morning was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. But in the end we agreed to let it be. The doctor left word at the hospital the four of us, Geo, Toni, Vicki and I, were to be permitted at Big Mar's bedside for as long as we wanted.
Her room was quiet, dimly lit, no wires or beeps. On the bed, the nurse had placed a blanket attached to a hose that circulated warm air to keep Mum comfortable. I reached under the blanket to hold her hand. Her fingers was toasty warm for the first time in a long time. That made me smile. Her hands wouldn't be hurting when she left us.
It started to snow big, fluffy, snow globe flakes as soon as we entered the room. I called my sister and brother who were preparing to drive to Pittsburgh that morning from New Jersey and New York, and told them not to come. The weather was bad and they wouldn't make it in time anyway. We four held her hand, shared some stories and a few laughs, and told her we loved her, as well as other private things we wanted to whisper to her. I know Toni and I told her it was okay to go. She didn't have to wait for Buddy and Laura.
At 8:40am on February 15th, Big Mar stepped off this mortal coil. She took two deep breath, and she was gone. Her passing was so gentle and peaceful. It was a privilege to be with her at the end. I hope she felt the love pouring over her from both sides as she made her way across. I like to think my Dad reached through and grabbed her, spun her around, and dipped her just like when they were young. They are both young, slim and healthy. My Dad in his favorite zoot suit, and Mum back in her beautiful heels. I imagine she and her two sisters are hanging out on the porch together talking, arguing, and laughing their butts off with a High Ball in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
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| My God, I adore this photo of our parents 💗 |
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| The Bossola sisters reunion |
Mum's big fear was falling. She told me that many times, especially the last few months of her life. I feel awful I couldn't protect her from the one thing she feared. I think about how much pain she was in, and how terrified she must have been. I didn't want her to die like that. She was such a good person, she deserved to pass quietly in her sleep, which I guess ultimately she did. Thankfully, her suffering was mercifully brief, less than 30 hours. In many ways, the Universe did her and us a favor. I think her body was starting to slowly shut down. Three weeks before her fatal fall, she wasn't herself. Little things started pinging my radar. She was sleeping a lot throughout the day. She stopped caring about watching the Penguins games. And the biggest red flag of all, she didn't want to go to Happy Hour when her favorite, Mikey Dee was playing. She LOVED heckling him, and he looked forward to her needling. If she hadn't fallen, I have no doubt her life would have been a slow decent filled with too many trips to the hospital, poking, prodding and agony. She would have hated it.
Big Mar was so universally loved, but we were still in the throws of a stupid GD pandemic wherein very few people were vaccinated. As much as we wanted everyone to celebrate her with us, we opted to have a private family viewing. Geo's brother, the priest did a small service for us at the funeral home. We told stories, we laughed, we cried together. It was really lovely. To be honest, it was easier with just us, the immediate family. We didn't have to comfort or entertain or all the other things you end up doing to get through an open funeral. It was nice. Mum would have been proud of us.
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| Big Mar rocked this thing called life |
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| We used this photo for one of her prayer cards. No lie. I ask you, is there a better depiction of her glorious spirit? |
I wrote her obituary. I didn't want her life to be distilled to a few mere generic facts. I wanted people to know her indomitable spirit, her effervescence, and the way she brought joy to everyone she met. She was everyone's Mother, Grandmother, therapist. My sister-in-law called it a love letter. I guess she's right. I loved Big Mar with all my heart. She was my friend as well as my mother/mentor. Toni used to say Mum must have been my child in a past life. Our bond was deep.
You can read all about our magnificent Mum here.
Over her last couple years, I took on more of a caregiver role, which is crazy ironic, being as I am NOT a caregiver, or patient, or selfless. I didn't resent my responsibility, but I'm not gonna lie. It wasn't always easy for me, which is why I took all those little road trips with my friends. I don't have kids. I'm not used to looking after someone constantly. Those trips were my way to recharge and be a better person for her. It was a privilege to spend that time with her.
Mum was so pleasant, funny, sharp, giving and loving, how could I not step up. I'd shop for her, take care of her meds, and help her take a shower twice a week. At first it was a little awkward, being so intimate with your Mom, but I came to treasure the days I helped her bathe. She was always so grateful. She never failed to thank me for giving her the pleasure of a shower.
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| and she was, yo! |
We had great conversations in that bathroom, and a lot of laughs. Our hair dresser sent her a card for her 99th birthday that read "You're still the shit!" I taped it on her bathroom mirror and would point to that card and say "remember Mum, you're still the shit". She'd laugh and tell me to get the hell out. She taught me a lot about growing old gracefully, with humor, strength, and kindness.
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| sporting a fetching new hat on her 99th |
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| she was always a good sport LOL |
My God, the outpouring of love showered upon our family was unbelievable. A true testament to the amazing person our mother was. Friends sent cards, flowers, and food. My God, the food! I cannot express how thankful we were for the food. We never had to think about meals, and that is a true gift. I was and still am overwhelmed by the immense kindness shown to us.
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| Our sweet neighbors made this snowman in our front yard to cheer us up the day after Big Mar passed |
After the funeral, we gathered at Toni's house for lunch. My brother suggested we all have a high ball in Mum's honor. I'm not a brown liquor drinker, I had a nasty affair with a bottle of Canadian Mist back in the Stone Age, but the combo of ginger ale and whiskey was the perfect salute to the amazing woman who created us.
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| And then there were five Big Mar's spirit demanded bright colors |
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| Prepping the High Balls |
When Big Mar moved out of her house, all of the holidays shifted to Toni's house. Our out of town siblings started staying with her. It worked out beautifully. Toni's home became the center of the family, just as loud and jolly as Big Mar's. After the funeral, I was so proud of us. We had it all figured out. I mean, we were going to miss Mum big time, but at least a big portion of our family life would not be in turmoil. We had our place to gather and be together.
And then two weeks later we got news that completely gutted us.
