Tues, Oct. 4, 2011

Staying at the Drury Inn in Joplin has always been our preference, and this time was no different. It's clean, comfortable, reasonably priced and we really enjoy the full breakfast and happy hour that's included with the room rate.

The manager, Gail, gave me a special rate. She knew my circumstance and was sympathetic. I had called her the week before to inquire about an extended stay. My plan had been to get down to Joplin to be with Dad in his final days and stay as long as necessary. Well, so much for that.

After breakfast, I went by NHC to collect the suit I selected months before, to take to the funeral home. And I wanted to know how Mom was doing. Would she be able to come to the funeral? This was what Kelly, the social services director, and I talked that morning while Betty, the head of housekeeping fetched the suit.

They both warned me that funerals can be especially difficult for people with Alzheimer's. I'd have to play this one by ear and assess how she is, and how much she understood about what had happened to her husband. I wanted to be the one to tell her he had died. Thought it should come from a family member. My brother wasn't arriving until Wed night, so I had to do this solo.

My meeting with Dan at the nursing home was set for 10 a.m. I arrived with the suit, my dad's army jacket and medals, photos, etc. for the service. I had decided on Sunday after talking to he and the pastor that the service would be at the funeral home. Less complicated logistically than having it at a church. And the issue of pall bearers was not going to be easy to solve. With so few family in the area, and mostly older folks who I expected to attend, these factors led me to opt out of the church service.

Dan is a very calm and patient man who guided me through the maze of decisions. We finalized the obituary, chose a casket, talked about music as well as the military honors that would be part of the ceremony at the cemetery.

Back at the nursing home, I see that Mom is having lunch with a group of ladies in the dining room. I opt to grab a bite for lunch myself and come back.

Mom knows me and is delighted to see me. I sat in her room on C hall and we chatted. The staff at this nursing home are wonderful, very caring and compassionate and they all loved my dad, which is no surprise. Mom seems most concerned about the shared bathroom and the people on the other side of the door. She fidgets around, opening and closing drawers in the dresser and the doors on the closet. Her thoughts are very scattered and random. We get to the subject of Gene (referring to him as "dad" confuses her). She gets very sad at the idea of his passing, but it doesn't last more than about 20 seconds.

A nice young CNA named Kelly and I conspire about an outfit for Mom to wear, should we end up taking her to the service.

My husband and children are in route to Joplin and I talk to them on the phone. They left at noon due to Erin having an appointment with the cable/internet provider in her new apartment. They are set to arrive late that night.

I had to leave to meet the cemetery director, Bob, at Mount Hope that afternoon. He had known Gene and was very fond of him. Dad would counsel him on best practices for maintaining the cemetery grounds, what herbicides to use, etc. and and in exchange, Bob would let him take black dirt for his personal use. Bob was so taken with Dad, that he waived the fee for the use of the pavilion for Thursday's service. It would be the setting for the military honors. I chose a marker for the grave. Dad had purchased two plots in the cemetery a number of years ago. Bob told me the story of how this came to be, and how fortuitous it turned out for him. He considered Gene a true friend and wouldn't accept any money.

I returned and had dinner with Mom that evening. Several staff came to me and offered condolences. After dinner, my dad's boxed up items were in the activity room and I wanted to find some photos and the radio I knew were there. Mom loves music and can remember the names of songs and all the lyrics to her favorites. While she listened to Frank Sinatra, I sorted my Dad's personal things, clothes, etc and consolidated the keepable things into one box. I was able to load one large box, a laundry basket and his TV into my little Audi.

By the time I got back to the hotel, the sun was setting and I was exhausted.