At the end of October, my mom had a stroke.  She was 98 years old and very healthy at the time.  The stroke did not harm her physically, but her speech was affected.  She spent a few days in the hospital and then went to a rehab center to receive therapy. The photo above was taken at the rehab center.  Being a very articulate, bright woman, it must have been extremely frustrating to lose the ability to communicate.  She was able to say a few words but then changed to a gibberish language which sounded similar to Norwegian.  She would ask for a paper and pencil and tried to write what she wanted to say, but actually wrote in the exact same “language” she was using.  After a few weeks at the rehab center, she expressed the desire to return to Primrose, the independent living apartment she had been living in since my dad died in 2003. By then, she had contracted pneumonia but still seemed physically healthy.

I arrived in Duluth on Friday, November 18, a few hours after she had come home from the rehab center. Hospice brought a bed and other items for her to use as well as medications we could give her for pain.   While she had been using her walker at the rehab center, her arthritic knees hurt when she had to stand for us to help her move from her bed to a chair or the bathroom and she would cry in pain.  The photo at the left was taken on Sunday as she watched her favorite football team, the Vikings.  By Monday morning, we decided that she needed to be moved to a Hospice house where she could get care from people trained to keep her pain free and comfortable.  As the social worker told us, we could go back to being her family instead of caregivers. That was a gift we welcomed. Mom didn’t like being at the rehab center, and while she wanted to be home she must have realized it wasn’t working. She willingly agreed to go to the Hospice house and from the moment she was brought to her room there she seemed to be at peace

Solvay House has 12 private rooms and became our home for the next two weeks.  Pictured at the right, it looks like a house, both outside and in.  Solvay is a Norwegian word (spelled differently) which means “path of the sun.”  It was designed so that during the day, the sun shines in each of the rooms as it moves across the sky.  The stated goal is to keep the patient comfortable and pain free as he/she goes through the process of dying.  In addition, every effort is made to keep the families comfortable.  We shared with the other families a living room, sunroom, dining room, kitchen, multiple sitting areas, a meditation/prayer room, several restrooms and a large shower.  Each room has a chair which converts to  a comfortable bed so one of us was always able to spend the night

The Hospice team included nurses, doctors, aides, a cook, social workers, spiritual advisors,  a grief counselor, music therapists, and volunteers.  As Mom traveled through the process of dying, we were kept informed about what stage she was in and of course she was always treated with the utmost sensitivity and respect, as were we.  We spent every day with her and as she got to the point where she was not responding verbally, she still let us know she was aware we were there. One of the most poignant moments for me was one morning shortly before she died.  I woke up in the chair/bed and looked over at her.  She was on her side looking at me with her hand stretched out.  I went over to her and she grabbed both my hands and squeezed them with more strength than she should have had.  She did not eat or drink anything after the first day she was at Solvay House and of course had lost quite a bit of weight.  She couldn’t talk at this point, but she obviously was able to communicate.  People at Solvay House were surprised at how long Mom lived without food or water.  Her heart was very strong and it just kept beating.  She died at 11:42 pm on December 3rd, 2011.

At Solvay House, when a patient dies two special things happen.  First, a battery operated candle is lit near the front door.  It stays lit for 24 hours.  After the funeral home takes the body, the bed is cleaned off and it is covered with a very special handmade quilt. A bright spotlight is turned on above the bed and the room is left empty for the next 24 hours, in honor of the person who died there. 

Everyone who knew my mom knew what a special person  she was.  A very touching eulogy was written by her grandson Brad and read at her funeral by his son Joseph. I’ve copied it below.

I was asked to provide a description of Ruth Wick, my grandma.  With 98 years to work with, at the surface this seemed like an easy assignment to fill a few minutes.  After 30 minutes of staring at a computer screen, I had nothing.  98 years on this earth and I was unable to define Grandma Ruth, pretty discouraging huh?  But after a while it dawned on me that Grandma Ruth was just that, as soon as you think you had her figured out, she would change.  She was a wife to Al and as soon as you defined her as submissive wife, along came her grandson’s wife Linda and Ruth seemed to grow as a person in her relationship with Al.  Growth that I am sure Grandpa appreciated.  Then with the passing of her husband after 60 years of marriage she became a widow.  But rather than presenting herself as a piece of the whole she became a single lady who seemed content with the world around her.  Rather than contemplating her lost youth and husband, she moved forward looking for activities that both interested her and helped others.  She focused on keeping track of her family which was well into its third generation.  She loved to talk about her kids, her grandkids and her great grandkids.  Whenever you swung by her home she had to share the latest events in the lives of Steven, David, Kristen, and Amy talking about their spouses and her great grandchildren.  She would excitedly talk about the latest goings on of Peter and Jennifer.  She was a doting wife, mother, maternal grandmother, fanatical hockey fan and a Christian. 

Grandma Ruth always seemed to have a group of “ladies” with whom she would socialize.  In fact Grandma was one of the original “Tea Partiers”.  As a special treat, and likely inspired by the holiday classic “Christmas Cup of Tea”, her granddaughter Lisa hosted a Christmas Tea for grandma and her friends.  The edition of the book that Lisa used as a reference was likely published in New York seeing that the tea involved rather than being of the Earl Grey brand was of the Long Island variety.  I have heard that taste is one of the first things to go with age, which explains why after multiple “rounds” the ladies did not seem to notice.  The following morning may have been one of the few times that Grandma slept in.   

Being that I was born at a time that allowed parents to send their kids off in the mornings and expect them back in time for supper, more often than not I would find my way down the road to “visit” with grandma.  I remember her as someone who always answered her door with cookies, or would take your hand and go out to the garden to pick sweet peas or raspberries.  She would have a one gallon container, and hand me a small plastic cup.  After 30 minutes Grandma’s bucket would be filled and she would send me on my way with an empty cup and a full stomach.  It dawned on me at that time that Grandma was always doing something, always in motion.  If you wanted to spend some time with her you simply hung on for the ride.  Even when she was sitting, she was busy, be it knitting or writing letters. 

I had the opportunity to spend some summer weeks with Grandpa and Grandma at their cabin on Long Lake.  The rule was that if Grandpa saw you sitting around he would find something for you to do that he needed done, and if Grandma saw you sitting around she would find something that you would want to do.  Grandpa Al had a strong personality and presence, and up until recently I did not appreciate the inward strength that Grandma possessed.  Grandpa’s voice would make you jump; Grandma’s suggestion would make you move.

One of the attributes that made her universally loved by all of her family and those around her was her ability to accept things.  You knew that she had some serious core values that she lived by, but she never seemed to judge others.  I never heard her make a judgmental comment regarding any family member, and knowing this family, she had a lot material with which to work.  And with subjects and topics that you would expect to throw a nonagenarian for a loop, she would just shake her head in wonderment and laugh at everyone’s discomfort.     

Grandma was very active up until a couple of weeks ago when she suffered a stroke.  And during the time since the stroke I have wondered why she had to spend her last few weeks sad and frustrated by her inability to communicate or get around independently.  But since they say there is a reason for everything, I can only guess that Grandpa Al needed a couple of weeks to prepare himself for seeing his wife again.  Since they last met Grandma had continued to grow as a person. And as a suggestion to Grandpa Al, the last thing that he will want to yell is, “It’s 12:05 where’s dinner?” unless his reflexes have improved since they last met.

I once gave Grandma a digital recorder and asked her to talk about her life, growing up in northern Minnesota, her school, her courtship and marriage, the exciting times in which she lived.  Year after year I would ask how the project was progressing, and it was always the same response, “I haven’t had time, but I will.”  She never did get around to it, and in looking back the fault was mine, you see. I asked her to talk about herself, when I should have asked her to talk about those around her, for she always seemed to have time for others.  And while it would have been neat to have a narrative to the life and times of Grandma Ruth, the only narrative that would have meant anything for Grandma Ruth would be that written by the lives that she left behind, because Grandma never seemed to spend much time in the past, or worrying about the future, she was too busy living in the present, all 98 years of it.