It was the microwave oven that made me think my mother might die soon. It showed up at my apartment door in Little Rock, three weeks too soon and $150 too expensive for my birthday. When I called my mom to thank her, I could tell that she didn’t exactly remember sending it to me.
The doctors had warned us about that. My mother had Hepatitis C (they called it “non-A-non-B hepatitis” then) and it had taken them forever to diagnose it. When they finally did, the damage was done: Her liver was scarred over with cirrhosis, she had nearly died from internal bleeding several times, and the doctors finally did some sort of incredibly complicated surgery on her liver. They warned us that the surgery could leave her delusional and would only extend her life for a few years. It took a couple of years and a few more hospitalizations for them to be proven right on all counts.
Thus, the microwave, which I didn’t press her about because I could tell she was embarrassed. By then, like an Alzheimer’s patient, she was having good days and bad days. And then she completely forgot who or where she was, and that got her hospitalized a few weeks after my birthday.
She came back to her senses a couple of days later. I rushed up from Little Rock to visit and, other than the fact she was clearly weak, she seemed her old self. She was embarrassed about what had happened. We talked about Mizzou basketball and the Cardinals — anything but the problem at hand. Privately, with my dad, we discussed long-term care options. After a couple of days, I went back to Little Rock, thinking the immdiate emergency had passed.
She went into a coma a couple of days after that, stayed there for a few days and died. She was 59. I was 29. It was 20 years ago.
Writing this makes me sad but that’s not usually the way I think of her any more. I think of her laugh and her fierceness and the fact that she wanted and loved her seven children. I was lucky to have known her for as long as I did.
So, Joanne Winifred Lilleston, today I say: Thank you for everything.
Randy, I’m working with one of Jeremy’s kids on a school project. She wants to do a genealogy project on the Lilleston family (for a few generations). At any rate, I was searching the web and when I put mom’s name in, this popped up. I don’t think I read this blog story before, but it brings tears to my eyes and also a smile to my face. I don’t recall the microwave story; however, what a great story and this brought back so many memories of mom. Love ya!