Monday, September 21, 2009

mosses monday XXXV...

 all i could hear in my head were john's words "he was despondent". for the next 9 hours, all i could think was "God, mosses isn't ready yet... i'm not ready, yet..."


finally, i made my way to the lane. when i opened the door of the van john was there to greet me with a hug and a kiss; he grabbed our luggage and follow katherine and me into the house. once inside, he told me i needed to hurry to the hospital as it was almost the 6pm visiting hour for the intensive care patients.

i looked at him, "still no change?" i asked.

john shook his head, "no..."

quickly, i washed my face, brushed my teeth, slicked my hair back into a ponytail, and headed out to the hospital.

when the elevator doors opened i hurried around the corner and buzzed for the nurses to open the intensive care ward's doors so that i could go back and see mosses. the doors automatically opened, and i only took a few steps before a nurse greeted me.

"are you dani... here to see george moss???" she asked.

"yes, ma'am," i responded.

"i'm supposed to direct you to go into the family meeting room."

fearing the worst, i followed her.

she opened the door for me. i entered to find mosses' family, his icu physician, and his power of attorney there in the middle of a very serious conversation. everyone looked at me kind of oddly.
to this day, i don't know why i was directed into that room...
as i had no business being there.

nonetheless, there i stood as the doctor explainedmosses had about 48 hours left to live. he was suffering from congestive heart failure, pneumonia, and kidney failure. he proceeded to say  he believed it futile to do more to sustain life.

 mosses' power of attorney then spoke up saying she agreed with the doctor.

i suppose i went into immediate and total shock and disbelief, and my face must have expressed just what i was feeling.

"dani, is there something you want to say or ask?" mosses' power of attorney asked me.

i started crying and could hardly talk, but i said i didn't think mosses was ready to die, and i asked the doctor if "doing no more to sustain life" meant they were going to take him off the ventilator and discontinue his iv.

the doctor said he would be left on both... he would just do nothing more. he went on to say mosses' was in such grave condition the vent and fluids wouldn't be enough to sustain life once mosses' kidneys completely failed.

mr. moss' nephew shook his head and commented he'd watched his mother suffer while on life support and he just could not stand the thought of watching his uncle suffer any longer...
i felt selfish and guilty.

after excusing myself from the meeting room, i ran to mosses' icu cubical. i found him in his darkened room with a ventilator tied in his mouth (he was blistered ear-to-ear from having constantly been moving his face side-to-side fighting the vent), and his hands were tied to the sides of the bed. his eyes were open but were "fixed".

i laid my head gently on his chest and sobbed...
"please, GOD, please..."

(to be continued...)

love and God's blessings,
dani xxx

ps you will find earlier entries in ascending order on my side bar entitled, "our love story":)


Anonymous said...

I can hear the sadness all the way over the miles.

Amanda said...

How hard it must be for you to remember your mosses this way. I can feel your heartache.

I haven't been over for a while to visit ~ but i was catching up on your previous posts. I hope things are starting to settle down for you all.

Amanda x

Little Sweethearts said...

If these are your last memories from mosses, they must be so painful to bring back up, but thank you for sharing. After all, it feels like we know the mosses too now.


Tanya said...

So, so sad! reminds me of my Grandmother's last days, so long ago...

I can never thank you enough for sharing the Mosses beautiful story..

Love & hugs,
Tan xxxxx

SuzanSayz said...

Love can be painful, but it's always worth it. So happy that you were there for him at the end.

Heidi 'n' Jeff said...

Reading this makes my heart ache. I think there needs to be a Mosses Wednesday. I don't want to wait till Monday.

PhotoChick said...


Over the last several hours, I was finally able to do something I've wanted to for nearly a month now. I've read all of your Mosses Monday posts, and there are just SO many things I want to tell you...!

How your stories have reminded me SO of my Granny & Pa. Their kindness, love for nature & God, always welcoming others into their lives... even til the very end...

I've cried happy tears as well as sad -- even heartbroken tears while reading through the love story. I've had questions along the way - many were answered, many more will be I'm sure, and a few I've already forgotten!

How I loved the intricate detail in which you described them -- Mrs. Moss' clothing, jewelry & makeup... and her favorite hymns. I had tears just streaming down my face as you wrote of visiting her for the last time and singing to her. I could hear voices of Angels singing with you! And Mr. Moss with his afternoon toddies in his leather chair in the den, his wonderful southern drawl, and how he just adored you and Katherine... The way the Mosses had such a profound impact on nearly everyone! Especially Katherine - I can just tell she loved them as her very own grandparents.

When I saw the picture of Mr. Moss in his wheelchair tending to his garden, I just started sobbing... One of the very last pictures I have of my Pa is of him in his garden... Late spring of 2003 sitting in a chair... with a hoe in hand, and the biggest smile ever on his face. For the first time in his life, he was unable to work his garden standing; but that didn't stop him from working it... He went out there with a folding chair nearly every day at the end, even though I'm sure he really shouldn't have. I remember he passed away right around Father's Day, and I remember how sad my mother looked when she knew she would never again have a dad here on Earth to say, "Happy Father's Day!" to...

When you spoke of Mrs. Moss and her mind first beginning to slip, thoughts of our last months with my Granny came to mind... After my Pa passed away, our family had someone with Granny almost at all times. We too had sitters for the times when someone in the family wasn't able to be with her in the house... My mom was just so afraid that Granny would forget to shut off the stove or even forget to eat. Sundays were always our day with her. After we all went to church, we'd go back to my parents to eat. Every Sunday, Granny would try to escape - not wanting to be a bother to anyone, especially having meals fixed for her; every Sunday we somehow managed to convince her (or stall her long enough) to stay for lunch. My Mom found that if we used small plates, she ate more.

My Pa & Granny passed away within 8 months of each other... I miss them dearly, but your beautiful sharings of Mosses Mondays have made me remember them all over again! I hope that somewhere in Heaven, my Pa & Granny and your Mosses have found each other -- I'm sure they would love each other just as much as I love you!

Thank you so much Dani. Thank you!

Do you have this in pink? said...


Thank you for sharing. It's all I can say, although its so painful to read and must be so much more painful to write, I need to hear all of your beautiful life tale.


Lisa said...

Thanks for sharing all these beloved memories....