Building a family foundation

Mom was born in St. Louis County on April 14, 1923.  She was the eldest daughter and raised in a strict German Catholic family who valued education and caretaking.  Like her mother and grandmother, she would care for those around her.  She married her childhood sweetheart on June 5, 1943 before he was shipped to World War II on the U.S. Navy’s LST-247. After the war, they raised 5 children from the first birth in 1946 to the graduation of the youngest in 1982. 

Mom and Dad’s life was each other and their children and grandchildren.  Living through the depression, they wanted their children to have everything they didn’t and they were successful.  They left the city life and sold the family business known as Ma Owens Sandwich Company and moved to the Lake in 1973 living on a ridge Mom called “Paradise”.  They retired in 1985, Dad from Tan-Tar-A and Mom from Poverty Flats Village.  They had a wonderful retirement making crafts and traveling to Colorado, Iowa, Oklahoma and throughout Missouri doing craft shows and visiting their children and grandchildren.  Dad was a gifted woodworker and painter and Mom a gifted painter and seamstress.  They were an awesome team.  Dad spent hours in his workshop sawing and sanding while listening to KRMS radio, while Mom sat in the dining room painting and listening to anything from Judy Garland to Madonna.  They spent lunch together watching Andy Griffith and Days of our Lives and napping, then back to work.  Dad would then cook dinner and Mom would clean up.  Dad would fall asleep in his recliner while Mom watched movies in the evening.  It all came to a halt on March 7, 2000 when Dad passed away from a lengthy and strong battle with heart disease.  He was a man that never wanted to leave his family and died with his family around him and only after Mom told him it was ok to let go.  The prior 2 years, Mom slept with her hand on Dad’s chest so she could feel him breathe and watched his every move to keep him safe.  A few years after his death, Mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, a disease that she feared for years for she never wanted to burden her family.  It is thought she had it long before being diagnosed even as far back as 1997 and sure Dad protected her and us from her disease.  They had made a deal years earlier that he would be her brain and she would be his heart.  It worked for awhile. 

A progressing disease

After Dad passed, she wanted to take care of herself and do things for herself.  Mom loved her home and to “piddle” as she called it.  She loved to decorate and play with her flower arrangements.  As the Alzheimer’s progressed, the silk flowers became real to her as she would water them.  She would pack and repack things in the house from clothes to crystal glasses and I mean everything in between.  The satellite remote became the phone.  We would have to leave the TV on and change channels for her.  Sometimes Katie Couric and Oprah were in her living room and wouldn’t leave!  Then she got a great idea of spray painting her rocks out in the yard.  She loved her rocks and I guess she wanted to make them prettier.  They are still blue, green and red.  B would begin to “hide” things that she needed so she wouldn’t pack them.  By this time all medications were kept at B’s home and any extra personal items.  The stove had been disconnected and the thermostat taped so she couldn’t change the temperature.  She would turn down the furnace and get cold and wonder why.  Little bit by little bit B would have to remove things from the house to keep them and her safe. 

By late summer of 2005, we needed more help.  We called Home Health and made arrangements to have someone for just 1 hour in the morning to help her start her day and then she could do from there.  By the beginning of 2006, she needed full care.  Nancy took care of her on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Home Health on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, B would take care of her on weekends and evenings with the help of our brother Chris.  Our two sisters from afar, Kathy and Mari called every morning and every evening to help her start and end her day.  She also had Lifeline, but would lose the panic button necklace numerous times and at other times push the panic button thinking it would call B.

Changing relationships

As this disease progressed, we learned to take new steps in this journey.  We are not sure how we did it, but we did.  Somewhere along our journey our roles reversed, B became the mom and Mom became the child.  The boundaries between mother and daughter were broken as her personal needs began to grow.  Mom would apologize and we would tell her she did it for us and it was our turn to care of her.  We made mistakes, but together we learned how to cope with Alzheimer’s. 

When she got sick at home, B would lay in bed with her until she fell asleep holding her hand.  Those times were so special.  When she was in the hospital, B sat next to her and guarded her from those less educated of how to handle an Alzheimer’s patient. B protected her like a mother protects her own child; only B was supposed to be the child.  So many times she was anxious and scared, she couldn’t find Dad or worse, she couldn’t find her own Mom who had passed years ago.  How scary that must have been for her.  Although this disease is so devastating, we had so many special moments together.  The “I love you’s”, blowing kisses, holding hands, comforting each other, and just being close.  So many moments that may have been missed without Alzheimer’s. 

On May 15, 2006, Mom moved to Osage Beach Healthcare Center.  It was the hardest decision of our lives.  Mom was a trooper, she wasn’t angry and she understood she wasn’t safe at home anymore.  What we didn’t realize was what a blessing the care center would become.  B learned to step back and trust people who knew what was best for her.  Our second toughest decision was made on May 21, 2008 when we had to decide not to treat Mom’s sepsis and let her go.  She passed away on May 24th with her children surrounding her just like Dad had done.  She didn’t want to leave either, but we told her it was “okay, go find Dad” and she did.

Our journey with Mom has been challenging, rewarding, heartbreaking and memorable.  She taught us how to be a better daughters and most of all, how to be better women.   She was by far the most loving and strongest woman we know and we are very proud to be her daughters.  As she taught us in life and in her death, we must remain strong.  We are grateful that she will never have to be lost again, she will never have to look for Dad again and most of all she will never have to look for her Mom again.

In her memory

This journey has ended.  Our next journey is to heal ourselves.  B now owns the property where Mom and Dad once lived.    We are making Dad’s shop our own.  We have used paneling and cabinets from their home to put finishing touches in our “girlie shop”.  We used wood that Dad had stored to finish walls.  We found hidden treasures here and there that make it even more special.  Mom and Dad seem to be everywhere which is so awesome.  Mom and Dad’s home will be gone soon providing another family in need of a home.  B plans on making a Zen garden on part of the land where their home once stood and all of Mom’s rocks, whether green, blue or red will remain.  Of course the Gun Barrel tree that Mom so adored will be cherished and protected. 

Mom was never ashamed of this disease and neither are we.  She always admitted, “I have Alzheimer’s.”  It didn’t matter who it was or where.  We will continue our annual Memory Walks in her memory.  We will contribute to help protect her grandchildren and their children.  If she were here today, she would say to you “thank you, you’re doing good” and probably pat you on the head.  As her daughters, we want to extend that thank you for your support and extend our sincere gratitude.  It is our honor to preserve her memory.

Thank You,
Bernadette (B) and Nancy