Dear Lit Loves,
Greetings. I do not have a book review ready to post today. There is nothing in the world of publishing I want to rant or rave about. If I did have something to say about publishing it is this: why is it necessary for a writer/author to have thousands of followings on social media or be present on every form of social media in order to get published? Some writers like me do not engage with social media because I view it as vain, intrusive, and it adversely affects my health. No joke. Some writers do not engage in social media because a relative works in a field whereby abstaining from social media is part of your job.
Interestingly, a relative of mine recently told me if I needed thousands of followers to land a literary agent or publishing deal, it would not be a problem. My relative is so internet savvy he/she can make it look like I have more than the current eight followers and also show thousands of views of my blog. I replied, "No, I am remaining truthful. If Algonquin Books never recognizes the writer sitting in their backyard with many meaningful manuscripts on her computer, well, so be it."
No. I'm not going there today. What lays heavy on my heart is the upcoming one-year anniversary of witnessing my mother's death. She was my last parent as I had already lost my dad in 2015 after a twelve-year battle with a rare cancer. Riding with my brother on Monday of this week going to Winston-Salem to tie up another loose end regarding mom's estate, I admitted our mother's death was like a frying pan to our faces.
This is how it went: Mom was fine. Mom thought she had pulled a muscle. Then mom called me early one morning asking me to drive over to her house because she was in a great deal of pain and wanted me to go visit her primary physician with her. We did. Mom was sent for a CT scan. I was with mom when her primary care doctor called to say mom had a tumor the size of an apple sitting at the bottom of her esophagus and pushing on her surrounding organs. Next, we made a trip to a hospital ER. Then mom was assigned an oncologist. The oncologist wanted mom to have an endoscopy in order to biopsy the mass (tumor) seen on the imaging from the CT scan. November 28th, 2022, mom, my brother, and I listened to the oncologist tell us mom had stage four, inoperable esophageal cancer. It was the end of the day. The oncologist was drumming his fingers on the desk at which he sat.
You could have heard a pin drop in the patient room at that moment. My brother was with us via cell phone. The oncologist did inform us of the treatment option that might give mom two more years with us. And then mom asked the oncologist, "What if I opt for no treatment?" The oncologist said, "If you opt for no treatment ma'am, I need to call in hospice ASAP." Mom told the oncologist she would think about it and discuss it with my sibling and I in private. Mom opted for no treatment.
My brother and I knew we could not keep running back and forth to our hometown to care for our mom. So, we brought mom over to spend her remaining weeks with us as we live near one another. In the beginning, mom was able to go back and forth between our homes so we could care for her. I phoned the oncologist and asked for hospice help over in our area. Hospice employees met with us at my dining room table. We let them know our mom was insisting on her desire to go spend her final days in a hospice facility. She most likely did not wish for us to witness daily what was coming. We were informed there was no available room at the hospice facility and the pandemic took a hit on hospice staffing levels so there were not even enough hospice caretakers if a room had become available.
My brother and I witnessed our mom lose her mobility: mom went from using a cane, to a walker, and finally to a wheelchair in the span of two weeks. We witnessed our mother no longer be able to eat and lose control of her bodily functions. I tried to obtain the time of a pastor who had served at mom's church for well over a decade, but he recently chose to move to another church. The new minister had only been on the job a little over five months. I tried my darndest to track down my mom's former pastor so she could at least speak with him on the phone. I kept leaving him phone messages.
At the end of that particular day, my brother and I were standing in line at CVS waiting to pick up pain meds hospice had prescribed for our mom. I thought I heard my cell phone vibrate so I checked it to see if mom or my husband were trying to reach us. No. It was the pastor I had left a message for requesting him to call and speak with my mom as she was dying. He had text me that he could no longer minister to anyone from my mom's church. We would have to request the new minister at mom's church speak with her though that was not her request. I think my heart dropped right out of my chest and is still lying somewhere on the floor near the CVS pharmacy where people have walked all over it by now. I showed the text to my brother. He read it and said, "It figures."
I knew that mom's previous pastor allegedly had encountered some friction with other members of mom's church. I also knew that my mom was not one of those people. She had attended that church with my dad for close to 48 years. They gave offerings weekly to the church. Mom led a women's circle at the church that helped provide holiday gifts and treats to a class at a low-income elementary school.
When mom took her last breath, we were exhausted, drained, and traumatized. I called the funeral home in our hometown where mom's body had been taken. I informed the funeral home director that we needed a day to refuel our energy. The day we did go to the funeral home, I took a new dress, undergarments, shoes, and accessories for my mom who would be buried in a casket as she did not wish to be cremated. It was just my brother, me, my husband, and the funeral director. I knew I had left word with mom's church about the day and time we would be at the funeral home and I would also call later with the day and time of her memorial service.
We waited for about thirty minutes exchanging documents with the funeral director. I was waiting for the new pastor to arrive to help us plan mom's graveside memorial service and offer spiritual support. Finally, the funeral home director encouraged us to start the planning process with her help. I remember saying to her I had not met the new minister at mom's church yet. She informed us that she had not yet met him/her either. And that is when it hit me: there had been a number of deaths in the last five months at my mom's church and some of those church families had used the same funeral home. If the funeral director had never met the new pastor then he/she most likely was not present at the funeral home with those church families who had experienced the death of a loved one earlier than us.
We planned mom's graveside memorial service. We secured flowers for the service. We met with the director at the cemetery where our dad was already buried. We drove two hours back to our respective residences. The new pastor did call my brother that evening to speak with him about our mother as my brother was planning to speak at the memorial service. Thank God for my mom's neighbors, friends, fellow church members, family, and business acquaintances that appeared for the small service. Thank God for my brother's clients and friends and my friends who showed up for the service. Their speeches along with my brother's made the service meaningful for us. They comforted us.
I did not want any other of mom's fellow church members, who happened to include people I knew and went to school with, encountering a pastor's refusal to speak with their dying loved one. Nor did I wish for another church family to not have spiritual support at a funeral home. I intended to inform the leader of our faith about what transpired during and after mom's death. I do not know if I will ever walk into another church again much less become a member after what occurred before and after my mother's death. So, I wrote the religion's highest leader I could find to let him/her know of my concerns for others at mom's church who will lose their mother, father, aunt, cousin, brother, or sister in the future.
Who knew a religion's Elder, Cardinal, President, or Bishop would answer their own email? This religion's leader did reply to my email. He/She said the response I would get depended on if it was a church that had recently disconnected from the main religion?? I wrote him/her an email explaining what my concerns were and my reasons for those concerns. To this day, I have never received any further email responses from the religion's leader.
I do not think God abandoned my mom or family during her death. At times, it felt like it. I do know that before I will ever enter the halls of any church again, I want to know from the pastor how me and my family will be treated at the time of my death and afterward. That is what I need to know first and foremost. If a pastor can't be there when you are dying or offer support to your family after a loved one's death, what is the point??
Best,
Grace (Amy)
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