I was with my Mom in the Nursing Home the night she died
She had reached 88 years of age
We had cared for her for many years at home
But then she started getting Chest infections regularly
So she had to go into hospital
There they could monitor her and give her antibiotics to keep the infections away
But the hospital wasn't happy, hospitals aren't for long-stay patients they said
Effectively my Mom was what they call a 'Bedblocker', she was taking up a much needed bed
They told us she had to go to a Nursing Home.
So we found her a place in a Nursing Home
I was concerned she wouldn't get the attention she needed there
But they assured me there'd be a doctor on call there.
She'd only been in the Nursing Home two weeks when I went in that Friday night
She had a big smile for me
Then she closed her eyes to rest,
I noticed her breathing was very laboured,
There was a wheezines in her chest
This was normally a sign of a chest infection,
I called the Night Nurse and told her shouldn't we get a doctor
She replied just shrugging her shoulders saying something like
"She's old, it's best to let Nature take it's course"
Well I was shocked by this attitude, I thought surely the idea was to keep your loved ones alive
The Night Nurse went away, I didn't know what to do
So I rang one of the Home Carer ladies we used to employ (they were former nurses), who knew her well and had cared for her for many years
She said too "Maybe it was time to let her go" .
When she'd got off the phone I just sat there at my mother's bedside... watching her
Suddenly she started making this strange sound that I'd never heard before
It startled me
Later they told me it was what they call 'a death rattle'
Then her head and body went limp... she was gone.
2
My Dad was a proud man, he'd reached a great age too, his early 90's
But he started getting Urinary infections which would affect his mind and he'd start to get confused
He'd be convinced that the house he was in was not his house anymore, that his house was actually across the road
One morning when he awoke before everyone else, he took a blanket and went out to the road looking to cross it and of course, our road is a crazy mad busy road
Luckily one of my neighbours seen him and brought him home
We had to keep a closer eye on him after that.
I used live with him, we had Carers who'd look after him during the day while I was at work
I'd look after him when I came home
He used to go off every evening to the bathroom to clean himself before bed
He wouldn't let you help him,
One evening he went to the bathroom I'd fallen asleep in front of the TV as I was tired
I awoke suddenly and thought I heard a slight banging noise/sound coming from some place
I went out and found it was my Dad, he'd fallen in the bathroom and couldn't get up
He'd been banging something against the door trying to get my attention.
He couldn't stand, I couldn't lift him, he was too heavy for me
I thought he might have injured himself
So I called the hospital and told them what had happened
They said they'd send an ambulance
It turned out he'd broken his leg
So he had to go to hospital.
Being confined to bed your leg muscles waste away and the Physio couldn't get him to do the muscle exercises
Again the hospital were unhappy, my father was taking up a much needed bed
He needed to go to a Nursing Home.
We went to look at several Nursing Homes and then a place came up in one
So we had to put him in there.
I used go in a lot to see him, to help him settle in
I told him it was only temporary, that when his leg got better I'd bring him home.
One evening I was sitting with my Dad and another inmate who'd been walking around came over to me and said "Do you want to fight me! Do you want to fight me!!
I replied "No! I don't want to fight you, why would I want to fight you for ?
It appeared some of the inmates were on drugs of some kind
Another guy who my Dad had smiled at and said 'Hello' to because he probably reminded him of someone he used to know
He came right up to him
And started Ff-ing and blinding him, "don't you ever talk to me you fecking ****"
Luckily my Dad was fairly deaf, I don't think he heard what he was saying
He just smiled back at him
I was shocked and told an orderly
"What kind of place have I put him in?" I thought
He also had to sleep with his bedroom door open for some reason
And of course, some of the people who were walking around would then go into his room
And take away with them some of his clothes and belongings
The whole thing reminded me of...it reminded me of the early days of going to Primary school
Other pupils would bully you and nick (steal) your gear, you'd be completely lost
I thought "It's like his life has gone full circle back to Primary school again"
We had to put his name on his clothes...
It wasn't all bad, there were people working there who'd try to engage with my Dad
They'd smile at him and talk to him
Because he was quite deaf
It was hard really to have a proper conversation with him
Often he'd be just left sitting there on his own
He'd smile at people and watch what was going on
He'd become able to stand up, I told him soon he'd be able to walk and then I'd be able to bring him home.
Then one Friday evening I went in and he was sitting there as usual
But his hands were shaking
I said it to the orderly and suggested they should call the doctor
When they did, the doctor said he should be brought to hospital
So an ambulance took him to hospital
And I followed in my car
He was all chat in the hospital, seemed in good spirits
He lay on a trolley until the next day when they found him a bed.
But then they had to do some procedure on him, they had to drain his lungs
They pulled the curtain around his bed and told me to go off for awhile
When I came back my Dad was just lying there... staring ahead
He looked traumatised...as if he'd been violated
Some of the nurses giggled about something
My Dad never said another word, he just lay there staring ahead
As if he didn't want to be here anymore
This man... this man who had been the youngest in his family...
Who'd been scared and beaten as a child by a teacher who was no more than a psychopath
Who gave him a belt on the ear once
That damaged the Balance mechanism in his ear
Every few years he'd get out of bed and just fall over
He couldn't stand up
Famously he was given the Last Rites one time 'cos they didn't know what was wrong with him...
The stories he used to tell me, he worked with cousins after his parents had died
But he wanted something better, he went up to Northern Ireland for awhile
Him and another guy got a job with a farmer
He talked about them having to sleep in a barn
But then the war broke out (WW2) and he had to return to the South
He talked about cycling to football games and going to dances
And then he talked of going to England and London, he talked of the Blitz and listening to the doodlebug bombs overhead that used hover and drop on the city
He talked of going to see the Arsenal play (soccer club), he talked of the dances in Cricklewood
He talked of how sometimes the Cockneys would bait the Irish
"You still got the pigs in the parlour there Paddy"
And how often in a restaurant you'd hear "Two dinners for Paddy!"
The Irish were viewed by many as being wild and uncouth... uncivilised
They'd often fight among themselves as if trying to live up to that stereotype...
He told me once how him and another guy were sent down to 'cider country' to build tennis courts
He said when they went to lunch the locals would have their bottles of cider
He said you'd be on top of your head if ever you drank it
But because the locals had all grown up drinking it, it didn't bother them
He said when they finished the tennis courts the locals gave them a 'farewell party'
He liked some of the English people he met, he said they could be very kind and fair-minded
A lot more so than the Irish themselves.
My Dad he went to Canada next, he used tell this story about a man lying dead on the street with people just walking by him, he couldn't get over it, it scared him
He said it made him save money so at least if he died he'd get a decent burial
He came from a small village, you mightened like someone but you wouldn't leave someone to die on the street like that.
He crossed into the USA after that, started up his own business as a "plasterer/ builder'
Used hang out with the other Irish guys
They liked America, smoking cigarettes and drinking and dressing up in suits
Going to dances and parties, hanging out
Here they were all grown up and free, a million miles away from their upbringing from psychopathic teachers and the like
He told me the story about being pulled up for speeding by the cops
And having to slip the cop a few dollars to get off LoL...
There he met my Mom and they married and decided to return home...
My Dad used to build houses, he was a Jack of all Trades
He'd measure out the foundations, then dig the foundations, put in the gravel and sand and cement and put up the blocks
He'd get Building acquaintances plumbers, roofers, electricians to come in and do their bits...
My generation all we were any good for was messing around on computers, my Dad he knew so much, he could do anything when it came to houses, he knew building, roofing, carpentry, he could do it all himself, maintain the house...
My Dad used to have a favourite song he used listen to on the radio
It told the story of a father who had three sons and how when he got old and sick
How the two oldest sons started to mistreat him as if they didn't want him around anymore
But then the youngest son would turn up to rescue him
I think he always thought I'd be there to rescue him
But looking at him there in the bed... just silently staring ahead... I felt I'd let him down
I couldn't help him
The doctors gave him no hope, said his organs were starting to fail
Eventually he went into a coma, I had been sitting with him
My brothers told me to take a break, to go and get a coffee
When I came back he'd gone, he'd passed away.
3
And so, in the end, I guess it must be like the Titanic going down
The cold icy waters of Time slowly sweeping up onto your decks
Nature coming to take back what was always it's in the first place
You stamp your foot and say "But it's my body, it belongs to me, I own it and I don't want to die"
But it makes no difference
You look to see if there's any other lights, anyone close by
But no! There's no other lights, you realise you're in this all alone by yourself...
And the Band has packed up, all the old sentimental songs and souvenirs and keepsakes
They no longer mean much anymore
You think maybe there might be a good game on the TV or a movie
But there's no time left now, you've run out of road
Life has come up real close and is staring you right in the face
It's gotten to be Big Time now
Then you think Wait I have a plan I'll go up to the top, yea! up to the bow and I'll hang on to the railings
I'll hold on for dear life
I'll ...I'll go down fighting...go down slow
And as you wait there you think "Y'know I don't think I could have done it any differently... this life... all the decisions I made, all the choices.... I don't see how".
Sometimes the stories in your life are so bizarre, strange, shocking, you don't need poetic devices, you can just tell it straight.