I just had an emotionally moving weekend with my mother. I don’t expect a lot of response to my long story here, but just wanted to share my story.

My partner and I drove the 200 miles to our hometown this past weekend to visit our families. My mother is terminally ill with cancer, so I usually visit her every other weekend to give my sister a break from her duties as primary caregiver. My partner usually accompanies me once a month. His parents live in the same town.

My father died 13 years ago at the age of 51, and now at age 60 my mother is probably in her last days or weeks of life. We recently moved her to a long-term care facility when it became impossible for my sister to take care of her 24 hours a day at home. The past 6 weeks Mom has been bedridden, confused, delusional, “psychotic” (as the doctor puts it), and incapable of a reality-based conversation.

As a bit more background: I never actually told anyone in my family that I am gay. My brother and sister (both married with kids) are aware of my living arrangements with my partner, but “it’s not talked about.”

So there I was this past weekend, with Mom in her now-usual confused state all day Saturday. When I walked into her room on Sunday morning, she wasn’t there. Then I noticed two nurses wheeling her down the hall in a “geri-chair”, a big semi-reclined odd-looking wheelchair. This was unusual, as she hadn’t been out of bed in two weeks! They had taken her down the hall to be weighed, and she was bright-eyed and wide-awake, and happy to see me. The biggest surprise was that when she spoke, her thoughts and words were “appropriate” for the first time in about 6 weeks. She wanted to stay up in the chair for a while, so the nurses left us alone, and I wheeled her around the facility and out onto a covered patio. She was so weak she couldn’t hold her head up and could barely speak, but we were having a good talk about her situation, and about her grandkids and other relatives. This was the first time that she understood where she was, why she wasn’t at home, etc. Over the past several years, our conversations had always been fairly impersonal, always dancing around the subject of my life and myself. After a brief lull in the conversation, we were looking each other in the eye, and she said, “So when did you figure out you were gay?”

I was so stunned at her question, years of pent-up emotions boiled to the surface and I just sat there and cried and couldn’t speak. She continued, “Did you just always know?” I nodded, and she said, “I’ve always known too.” Through my tears I said, “You did?” She said, “Yes”, and continued, “I don’t know what your dad would have thought, but he would eventually accept it.” Then she asked me if my brother and sister knew, and I told her that they knew, but that we didn’t really talk about it. She asked me about my partner, and said, “So are you two like life partners, or what?” I told her about our relationship (she knows my partner pretty well, as my "best friend") , and how happy I was with my life situation. She told me, “I don’t think your dad’s side of the family will understand; I don’t think you should tell them” (that side of the family, including my 85-year-old grandmother, are all Missouri-Synod Lutherans, a conservative – virtually neo-nazi – gay-hating branch of the Lutheran church, which doesn’t allow women to preach or even to hold office if it would “usurp the authority” of the male office-holders). I agreed that I wouldn’t tell them, although the relatives are certain to notice that my partner will be at my side at Mom’s funeral.

I told Mom that I was glad we were talking about this, and asked her if she had any questions or wanted to talk about it any more. She said, “No, I just want to get back in bed.” So, I wheeled her back to her room, and the nurses put her in bed. Most of the day she was fairly clear-headed, and talked about what she wants done for her funeral, what she wants to be buried in, etc. and I asked her a lot of questions about family history, which she was able to answer. Later in the afternoon, she started becoming slightly confused again about where she was, why I was there, etc. My partner joined us to visit with Mom for a while before we would begin the 3-hour drive back home. When we were leaving, she told him to take care of me, said “I love you both”, and we left in tears.

I think I’ll go visit her again this weekend instead of waiting two weeks. The next time I see her, she’ll probably be hallucinating and may think that I’m trying to poison her and steal her money (that seems to be a common paranoid delusion at the end of life. The funny thing is, she doesn’t have enough money to bother with stealing), but I’ll know that somewhere inside is my real “Mom”, and that she knows who and what I am, and that she loves me and my partner.

[ September 16, 2002: Message edited by: maxallen ]

Maxallen, that was a very touching story...I am sitting in my office with tears in my eyes....

I wish you and your mother, the best, in the upcoming weeks.

Rick

[ September 16, 2002: Message edited by: rickinto ]

Thanks for sharing maxallen. I know I'll be in a similar situation one day. You've made it easier no matter what happens.

That's the truth.

[quote]Originally posted by maxallen:
I just had an emotionally moving weekend with my mother. I don't expect a lot of response to my long story here, but just wanted to share my story.

---

Wow. Thank you for sharing it with us. I'm sending big hugs and best wishes your way.

maxallen, you're lucky to have been given the chance to have "the talk" with your mother. I'm sure it was a cathartic experience, one that will help your mind rest easier in the future. all the best to you.

[ September 16, 2002: Message edited by: canmark ]

Wow. Very moving tale maxallen. You are in my thoughts today, and will be tomorrow. Hang in there, and I too wish everyone the best of luck.

very touching story, all the best to your mom, and hang in there and keep the faith

God Bless

I had an eerily similar experience with my mom. She died about 6 months later. I was sad to have her die, but glad she was no longer suffering and that we had that time to be open and honest.

And you're right about the "stealing money" thing. My mother accussed my sister all the time! It broke my heart to see her without her faculties in tact.

I hope your mom has as much peace and comfort as possible. And you also need to remember to take care of yourself during this time. You don't realize how much of a toll it takes on you until its over.

It's a wonderful thing, Max, that you were able to reconnect with your mother in such a beautiful way. I am glad for you to have that closure.

Go next weekend, and enjoy what you can. Best wishes for continued happiness in the time you have together.

(Icidentally, my grandmother fell prey to the same kind of hallucinations and such when she was dying; try not to take it personally and encourage your sibs to do the same. If she accuses your sister of wanting to steal her money, make a joke out of it if you can to keep smiles all around. Remember to have a sense of humour about it. It can be pretty funny even in the context of things.)

[ September 16, 2002: Message edited by: smrobbins65 ]

Maxallen, that is truly one of the most touching things I have ever read.

Without trying to be offensive, I have to say that in a way you're lucky. I was too closeted when Ma died 5 1/2 years ago to even think about discussing it with her. We did have our last big talk in her last days in the hospital, when she told me how I couldn't be alone the rest of my life, that I needed someone to be with. It wasn't until I came out about 3 years later (and found out that Dad had long ago figured it out - the parents always know) that I realized Ma had never used a pronoun in our discussion. She just kept saying I had to find "someone." Looking back on it, I am happy that she knew I was gay, and am so touched she was doing her best to let me know it was okay.

I'm sure all our thoughts will be with you, Max, in the weeks to come.

Our parents always seem to know us better than we think they do. Thanks for sharing your story, Max. Best wishes to you and your family.

Thanks for sharing this maxallen. I hope that time spent with your mother in the coming weeks are the very best yet. Take care.

[quote]Originally posted by smrobbins65:
If she accuses your sister of wanting to steal her money, make a joke out of it if you can to keep smiles all around. Remember to have a sense of humour about it. It can be pretty funny even in the context of things.

---

It's hard to tell my friends that we are laughing at my mother when she is having paranoid delusions, but some of the things that she comes up with just crack us up! When she was at home, one day she thought that my sister had rigged the ceiling fan over her bed to fall on her at a certain time, and she bunched up all her pillows and blankets under the fan to cushion the fall. For several days she made my sister take a drink of her water or a bite of her food before she would take anything, because she was certain it was poisoned, and she kept making plans to "escape", even though she couldn't move from her bed. It's tragic that she should have such nightmarish thoughts in her head, but when we hear things like that come from our mother who was so intelligent, well-reasoned, and down to earth, it sounds like she's making a joke, so we laugh. Then she gets mad at us for laughing at her.

Well guys, THANK YOU so much for the kind thoughts and well wishes. As a 6 1/2 year survivor, my mother has outlived some 95% of advanced breast cancer patients with multi-site metastasis. We've had a long time to prepare for this, but it's still very hard. Thanks again.

thanks for sharing, max. it brought tears to my eyes.

Hi, maxallen - that was incredibly moving. I'm glad you had that experience with your mom. You're in my thoughts. Hugs......

max - thanks for sharing such a personal story...it must be incredibly gratifying to know that your mother fully knows who you are and accepts that...i've heard it said that death is a peak experience in life in that we are most alive in the face of death..it sounds like you're experiencing this right now...every moment counts...!

max, thanks for taking the time to share such a personal part of your life with us....I know it will make a difference in the lives and decisions of those who have read it in years to come....to echo the thoughts of others, I was extremely moved by your story and wish you and your family much peace and love in the days and weeks to come....and if it is indeed time for your mother to go after her long, courageous battle may she not have to endure any more pain....treasure the time you have remaining with all those you love, since none of us know how much longer that will be.

Yes, a very sweet and touching story. I too have tears in my eyes. It's wonderfull to have that brief time to talk with her about that. When you think about it, God does work in mysterious ways. He gave you both those few minutes while she was coherant and alert. Most of us don't regonize miracle when they happen, but I believe this was a miracle for both of you. Your in my thoughts and prayers Max.

Max, thanks for sharing such a touching story. I am going to call my mother now.

Thanks, Max. Courage on all fronts.

What a story!!!

I am an oncologist (i.e. cancer doctor) and deal with people in your situation a lot. I can not tell you how many times a patient who has been confused becomes lucid for a few hours and is able to interact in a very meaningful way with their loved ones.


I have no explanation for it other than it is a gift from God. Being trained in the rigors of medicine, I had difficulty accepting that these things occur without a biological explanation. As I got older, I came to realize that not all phenomenon need to be explainable to be true.

My own experience is that I need to take the time to be on the lookout for the gifts from God in my daily life. If I take the time to look, there are plenty.

Well guys, PLEASE, there is no need to respond with a whole slew of sympathy posts following this -- REALLY. But since this thread generated such an emotional response, I thought I should let you know that Mom passed away last week.

It was a very long, hard battle that she fought. In the end she was basically unconcious, but had enough "awake" moments to know that she was surrounded by family in her final days. I spent the last two nights in her room, sleeping (sort of) in a recliner. Monday morning (Sept. 30) I was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding her hand, waiting for a nurse to come in for her bi-hourly check of vital signs, when within a matter of minutes her breaths just started coming less and less frequently, until there was one last breath; then it was another minute or so before the pulse which was visible in her neck stopped beating, and she peacefully passed on. I said my final goodbyes (for about the hundredth time), and walked down the hall to tell the nurses. Strangely enough, they ran down the hall to her room as if they could do something to save her(???). While they were examining the body, my brother called on my cell phone. Suddenly I was bawling and couldn't get the words out, but he figured out what I was trying to say, and he called my sister.

My partner was still at home in KC, but he drove down to OK immediately when I called him with the news, and was a rock for me over the next few days. He certainly became "one of the family" during the week. My youth minister brother (not the same intolerant religion as the other hyper-right-wing relatives) even hugged him as we were leaving, and thanked him for being there.

The Lutheran relatives noticed my partner's presence by my side at the services and at family dinner afterwards. The younger-generation realtives seemed genuinely happy to meet him, and he got to talk about all things NASCAR with some cousins who were at the Kansas Speedway race that previous weekend. Unfortunately the aunts and uncles were not so kind. After a grilling (out of my presence) from one uncle, about who he was and why he was there, they mostly ignored him. While I was talking with my grandmother, she asked me if "that guy" was still living in my house, and she said, "I heard he was here."

Since my father has already passed on, now I have the task as executor to distribute Mom's estate. The three of us siblings went room-by-room and selected the keepsakes and items we wanted from the house. Since they both have kids, I let them take the family heirlooms, while I went with the things that will look good in my house (how gay!), and now we have to plan an estate sale.

I have found a personal silver lining in all this: For the first time in three years, I don't have to carry my cell phone with me everywhere all the time, waiting for a dreaded phone call about Mom. That freedom from the phone is the biggest stress reliever I've had in years.

Okay, now please re-read my first sentence. If you want to add something or share your peronal experiences, please do so, but I'm not looking for posts saying "I'm so sorry", and all that. It's a terrible thing to lose a parent, and I know that everyone is sorry about it and wants to express their sympathy. So just let that go unsaid. Really.

Max

*Sigh* Too bad about the uncles and aunts being so.....well......you know, to your partner.

I don't know why I am bringing this post back up, but I found this about this writer's mom on the Advocate web site. It is a beautiful piece. Here it is. I love it and I wish I could see my Mom a little more now.

if it will make you fell any better you can see my mother more!

I responded to maxallen's original post without looking at the date. God I'm such a dork! frown

I didn't know where to post this and I felt it was best to put it in here. I hope no one gets upset by this. frown

Your heart was in the right place, DR. wink

Don't worry about it, Allen. This is certainly an appropriate thread for the link to that article.

I'm glad you posted that article Allen, or else I probably wouldn't have gotten to read it!

The writer talks about the extent and length of grieving that many gay men experience when they lose their mother. Personally, I don't see how he relates being gay to the whole thing.

Like the writer, I experienced a lengthy grieving period for my mother, much deeper and more profound than for my father, who died 13 years prior. But I didn't relate the deeper grief to me being gay at all, and I still don't after reading the article.

What I discovered after reading books on the subject, and particpating in Internet support groups, is that almost universally, adults experience a much more profound grief after the loss of their second parent, whether the mother or father dies first. It's a loss of connection to your past; a loss of stability; the end of your nuclear family; the end of what made you. Part of the deeper grief is that they typical adult experiences unresolved grief for the loss of the first parent when the second parent dies.

I don't doubt that the writer is profoundly in mourning for the loss of his mother, but I don't know, I almost take offence -- does that sound bad? -- that he thinks it's because he's gay. I don't buy the "gay men love their mothers more" argument.

Max, I know it's been awhile, but thanks for sharing. It helps me with my situation right about now.

Which begs the question...
Does anyone know of a good support group for children of adults with Alzheimer's?

I'd be most grateful.
Thanks.

jcp@sunflower.com

I'm glad you appreciated me putting up the article in here.

I sent it to my Mom and she liked it a lot. Like the good Lutheran she is, she wished me lots of love and to pray to Jesus! I love her.

I completely understand your point of view. I love my Mom, but that's because we've been through a lot of shit growing up and we're pretty damn close. IT definitely was not because I am a homo.

What about you guys??

I only discovered this thread tonight, even though it started almost 18 months ago. Like the rest of you, I was deeply touched by Maxallen's story.

Originally posted by maxallen:

Interesting statement; I have never heard that before, but it makes sense. My mother died suddenly more than 25 years ago, while I was still a teenager, and I struggled a long time with her untimely passing. My father is still living (now 75), and although we are not extremely close, I do love him and I think that 'loss of connection' with my past will hit me hard when it happens.

I would very much like to echo what people have said about the passing of their sceond parent.
My mother has been dead over 20 years and my father passed away a year ago.My only sibling died a few years before my mother.
It is certainly true about the connections being lost. I also had the ordeal of clearing out and selling the family house, after my fathers death. That further adds to the feeling of closure and loss of nuclear family.Its not a pleasant feeling, but one can and does survive it all.
Sadly, over the past few years, on my fathers side of the family there were a few other deaths.
They were some people that I thought I would trust in a crisis. Turns out nothing could be further from the truth. That too adds to the feeling of being disconnected.I have scant little to do with my fathers side of teh family.
Fortunately, I live in a city where I have lots of friends and an extraordinary support system. Consuquently, the feelings of being disconnected, loss of nuclear family etc are easier to deal with and overcome.
I cant possibly imagine going through this and living in some ultra conservative, narrow minded, isolating, bible thumping rural and/or red neck environment.

There are several books on the subject of losing one's parents. One that I recommend is "Midlife Orphan", subtitled "Facing Life's Changes Now That Your Parents Are Gone", by Jane Brooks. You can read reviews of it and others at Amazon.com. The book helped me understand why I was experiencing certain emotions and feeling, and it helped my psyche just to know that what I was going through was perfectly normal.

Here's a brief excerpt from Brooks' book:
"...when the last parent dies we lose a relationship unlike any other in our life. It's no wonder that we feel so bereft. Yet, few of us are prepared for the intensity or the duration of our grief. The death of the last parent, an event that we've known would obviously happen someday, is a shock to our core in ways that we have not anticipated."

And: "I think we don't actually think of ourselves as adults until our parents die... As long as there's one parent alive, I can still be the child. But when both parents are gone, it's like, 'Shit, I have to do this myself.' It's very unnerving... As long as you have a parent, even if that parent is ninety and you're seventy, you're still someone's child..."

This whole topic may sound depressing to some of you, but it really can be uplifting for people to share their experiences and understand that others share the same set of emotions at difficult times in their lives.

[ February 22, 2004, 09:16 AM: Message edited by: maxallen ]

maxallen,
Thank you for mentioning "Midlife Orphan" I have read it and it is extraordinary. It really, really gets to the point with insight and empathy.
There is also another book "The Orphaned Adult" by Alexander Levy that is also outstanding.

This topic and many of the replies, hit very close to home for me. About a year ago, my mother was diagnosed with inoperable, terminal gastric cancer, which was the worst thing I think I can ever recall hearing. My father died when I was quite young, about 11, and I really hardly knew the man, because my parents were separated or divorced when I and my sister were very young. Its been so damn hard to try to come to grips that my Mother probably won't be around a whole lot longer. She has been both a mother and a father figure to me, and has known that I was gay going way back to my late teen years. I couldn't have asked for a more caring, compassionate and understanding mother. I am still taking it rather hard, trying to be as strong as I can be. My biggest concern is that my Mom doesn't have to deal with any kind of prolonged pain. A couple of months ago I was thinking to myself, that in some ways I wish that she would just pass away in her sleep, to avoid the possible painful ending she may or may not have to endure.
Then I found myself asking myself, is this a horrible thing to think? It really bugged me alot. Then I picked up the March edition of Men's Health magazine. Turns out somebody else who has a parent facing a terminal illness was wondering about the same thing. A Psychiatrist responded, that is completely normal to feel this way, about wanting a parent to just pass away and get it over with. He said it showed I am compassionate, and don't want the parent to have to face any pain, which was extremely, reassuring. Fortunately I have a very positive mother, I think she has been dealing with this quite well, and all things considered as of now, she is doing fairly well. But its still hard. And I have been able to get alot of support from cancer.org, and have read a really good book about when a parent or a loved one has cancer. Both me and my Mom take things one day at a time now.

Thanks for sharing your story, Puckman....my heart goes out to you and your mother during what must be a very emotional and reflective period of time....I certainly understand and feel it is perfectly normal why you would prefer that she be taken sooner rather than see a loved one suffer while you are "helpless" to alleviate any physical pain that she may be going through....I have been very fortunate thus far in that, with the exception of my grandparents and one aunt (who succumbed to cancer), I have not yet had to deal with the death of any close family members....my parents are both in their early 70s, approaching their 50th wedding anniversary and from all appearances, are still in good health....my mom has always been a "workaholic" who insists on doing everything herself (that's probably where I got my "perfectionist streak" from ), and putting the interests and needs of others ahead of her own, particularly where family is concerned....although my father is an "old school" Roman Catholic from NY he has mellowed considerably and softened his views on many issues over the past year or two -- although he is still sadly a staunch Bush supporter and gay marriage remains a "challenge" for him at the moment.

I haven't had to face the reality of losing a parent or sibling yet which obviously is inevitable (assuming I outlive them of course) but I'm sure, despite the differences we all have with our parents on certain issues, that it will be an emotional time filled with much reflection -- but hopefully not too much regret for things that we failed to say or do while they were alive....geez, can I make this post sound any more like the lyrics to the Mike and the Mechanics song The Living Years?

I second the recommendation for "The Orphaned Adult." When my mom died--six years back--she had lived with Kyle & me for four years (a stroke made it impossible for her to live independently) and he death was a body blow far greater than I anticipated; even the love/support/patience Kyle exhibited (those qualities pretty much summed him up) didn't alleviate the deep mourning I experienced. It amazed me that here I was--middle-aged, successful, in a stable loving relationship--and feeling utterly untethered. A lot of what I read in "Orphaned Adult" helped navigate those times.

And puckman, thanks for sharing your story of how you and your mom are doing; your hopes for her to have an "easy, peaceful, pain-free passing" (there really is no such thing...) offer evidence of your love for her.

~Adam

I just found this thread, and have tears in my eyes.

Maxallen: I'm very happy you were able to talk to you mom before she died.. It sounds eerily similar to when my mom passed, and I didn't go see her.

My father died on Oct 22 1998, and my mom was in a home due to a stroke that had paralyzed her in the right side. My father had metastisized melanoma, (skin cancer) and never told anyone, so when my partner got the call for me to come home RIGHT away, I was away on business. Of course he couldn't reach me, so when he did a few hours later, my dad was gone.
I will never forget the sound that my mom made when we told her about my dad. She couldnt verbalize well, so it was this god-awful wail.

Of course when she went to the funeral home to see dad, (we'd decided to bury him with his favorite hunting cap) my mother, who had n't been able to talk for 3 months' looked at my dad, turned to me and said as clear as a bell, "THAT DAMNED HAT".

THe day of my dad's funeral, I went home to Toronto to be with my partner, and was going to travel back to Ottawa the following weekend.

My mother died that day.

I was a wreck for 6 months with guilt, and buried my face in double butter shortbread with chocolate chunks.

Well, 6 months and 60 pounds later, I finally came to my senses, found a great group therapy session at our MCC church, and came to grips with it.

The funny thing is, that the next time my 2 sisters and I talked about my moms death, we had all had the same vision in the back of our mind when we got the word. It was of my dad, standing at the foot of my mothers bed, saying "Hurry up Stella, we're going to be late".

THAT still gives me goosebumps.

Next month, when my partner and I are married, the first place we'll go is to my parents grave. THey will be an important part of the ceremony too.

Thanks for letting me babble

My dad had cancer for four years before he died (way back in '88), and our whole family felt that way toward the end. We saw the toll that his illness was taking on him (and on our mom as his main caregiver) and just wanted the pain to end. Fortuntately, when things got too overwhelming, he got in-home hospice care (pain relief, no "miracle machines" to unplug) and was able to exit in peace. Anyway, I agree.

You have my deepest sympathies - I am so happy you got a chance to talk things over with your Mom. Good Luck!

Rob