Pretty In Pink

 Pretty In Pink

The following is my memories of my mother's death.

May my mother rest in peace she died due to complications due to chemo.

may she always be pretty in pink.  now for the story.

            As I recall it was towards the end of March when I received a call letting me know that my 

mother was in hospice.  I was told that if I wanted to see her again to pack and come home now.  I had 

later found that arrangements had been made between my sister, Regaina, and the church for me to fly 

home to Virginia.  I was to see what was left of my mother.  On the flight home I was shook up not 

knowing what to expect, or who would be there.  I didn't even know if  my mother would still be alive.

My sister met me preparing me for the nightmare about to take place.

          She took me to my parents' house where I met my father with a hug.  I was then taken into my 

parents' room where I was to see my mother laid out in a hospital gown, lying on a rented hospital bed.

Her mouth was opened with dry blood on the side of it.  Her eyes were open and kept rolling back in 

her head.  In my minds eye she was all but dead, the only thing which kept her going was an oxygen 

machine.  On the ice box was a do not recesitate order signed by my father.

          During the time that I was at my parent's house we had surprised visitors.  I did not know who 

they were at first due to their masks.  Dad told me to let them in it was Gideon and Dextor there to give 

their final farewells.  I had not seen Dextor in years and would not see him again for a long time, but 

that is another story I will not tell or get into.

          Since the Prince's Anne Church of Christ had been closed down (due to lack of paying rent 

caused by collection not being taken up because of Covid) church services were being held at my 

sister's house. My Dad's siblings from Oklahoma and Washington were there, but my mother's brother

was not there.  My mother's biological family was not there either.  But, as church services was over

 we all said good-bye with hugs.

                    Not long after that at nine o'clock at night I went to take a shower, but first checked in on 

mom (as we all had been), and found her not breathing.  I had been prepared to walk into a room and f

find a dead body as a CNA in Kansas, but this was different it was my mother..  I yelled for my father, 

and told him I did not think mom was breathing.   My Dad came in with a oxyiminator  to check her 

oxygen, and sure enough she was dead.  So he had me shut the oxygen machine down, as he called the

 nurse no use calling Regaina that late at night nothing she could do.  

                        The hospice nurse took an hour to get there.  Once she got there she apologized for 

taking so long, but she said she had to drive all the way from Virginia Beach to Norfolk.  She wanted to 

dismiss me from the room due to the fact that I was the child (even though I was 52 at the time).  I 

stood by my father's side as they cut up and, changed her favorite gown, to place on her for the 

funeral home.

                          I watched as two men in suits took my mother from the bed and placed her in a body 

bag which they placed out in the hall.  (They then went back in the room to do something which was 

unseen to Dad or I).  They then went out into the hall and zipped the body bag up and wheeled it 

outside.  Dad and I went back into the room to find the bed made and a rose placed where mom's body

use to lie.  Dad went to go get a vase for it but I stopped him telling him it was fake, even though it 

looked real right down to the thorns.     

                             In the meantime, my younger sister Karen flew in from Michigan.  She said due to 

Covid their was very few seats taken on the airplane.  She had been given three days off for 

bereavement by her company.  She used one day for what she called shopping therapy.  

                           The funeral home that my mother stayed at was Beech Funeral Home, which called 

Regaina and asked her to bring underwear, socks, and a dressy dress for Moma. Dad and I had already 

chosen the dress which mom was to be buried in, but let the girls pick it out.  Sure enough they picked 

out the same pink dress we had picked out (this dress was worn on her 50th wedding anniversary). 

 When I asked about the socks Karen said something along the lines of , "so her feet don't get cold when

 she gets to heaven."

                          Regaina was concerned, because, she had not left me anything to do.  Dad told her that I 

  had the important job of not letting him alone.  The house was now empty and quiet he didn't know 

how to handle it.  He did not have anyone there to yell "Earl" to him.  I still call him daily.

                             It was decided everyone would wear something pink to the funeral.  I had nothing

 pink, so we went to Wal-Mart (R) to find something pink to wear.  All we could find was a beech shirt

(which suited the purpose), and we bought it.  Then Regaina had twenty-five ribbons cut up. Which 

was just enough for all there.  Dad expected more, because he expected people to come who mom 

knew from Indiana, Iowa, Missouri, and Kansas, but none came.  There was only twenty-five from 

Virginia there.

Paul D. Eccles