A Tribute to My Mom

A Letter from a Son to His Mother

*After a ten-year battle with Alzheimer's, my mother passed away on Saturday, August 18th.

*A few days before she died, I got the call she was declining.  My wife and I flew back early from our summer vacation on the west coast.

*While on the plane, I wrote a letter to my mom in what was to become my eulogy that I gave on Saturday, August 25th at her memorial service.



*We teach our students to express themselves, take risks, and explore feelings; in their writing.  I guess I want to expect the same of myself.

*This blog is normally about books, my reading life, and the students I work with.  I've been thinking about my mom a lot since her passing and I thought it might help to put my words out into the universe.

*Here are the words I wrote while flying back from Seattle to the Twin Cities...

Wednesday, August 15, 2018 at 9:10 PM

Dear Mom,

I’m presently on a flight from Seattle back home.  Kris and I have been on a summer vacation this last week and our final stop was to visit with John, Peggy, and Kelly. 

You put a little “glitch” in those plans.  You seem to be trying to say something this last month.  While dad, Megan, Kris, and I were on the final leg of our France trip in July; you had your first “known” seizure, which of course put us all into a tailspin.  Maybe it was your way of saying “Come back.  I miss you all.”

We ended our trip early, hurried back, and found you in pretty good spirits and actually a bit more “babbly” than usual.  That first seizure seemed to have zapped a bit more life into your system.  I enjoyed getting back to our routine of washing your hair, spraying your favorite Beautiful perfume on, and spending time watching television or chatting with each other. 

Right before Kris and I left for Washington and Oregon, I told you there would be no more seizures and I would be back in a week.  Well, you didn’t listen and made it clear that it was time for me to be back by your bedside by having a second seizure, but this time around it looked like you were not going to bounce back. 

If I couldn’t be right with you at that moment, I couldn’t think of anywhere else I would have rather been when Megan called with the news, then with Kris on the west coast.  We were about to head back to Seattle to spend a couple days with Uncle John, Aunt Peggy, and cousin Kelly.  In some ways, it was like it was meant to be that I was in the place where you and dad started our incredible journey.  I was spending time with your family, including cousin Jack, and I know they all mean the world to you 

As that first day or two went by and we realized you were serious this time, the only thing I knew in my mind and heart, I wanted to be with my mom.  Once again, we changed our plans, hoped on an earlier flight, and at this moment I’m heading home to you. 

What a journey this has been.  I cannot express in words how much I have missed you over the last five or so years.  But it is nothing compared to the thought I have now that you are truly leaving us.  The world of Alzheimer’s is not one I would wish on anyone or any family, but looking back on the last tens years when it all began, I think we all did one hell of a job dealing with what we were given. 

When I think back to when we were losing you to some kind of memory issue, I had no idea what the future had in store for us.  The one true blessing and comfort I have is that I don’t think you were ever truly aware of the changes and what was happening to you.  That makes my heart warm and smile with love. 

I want you to know that I think you were the best mom ever.  You were not only my mother, but one of the best friends I’ve ever had.  You were my rock.  You were my confidant.  You were one of my biggest supporters. 

Looking back to our days on Riviera Drive, I can remember those nights when I would come home from school and even college; we would talk through the walls of our bedrooms.  I always wanted to share everything that was going on or happening in my life.  You were interested, curious, and always gave me your full attention. 

What a beautiful childhood you and dad provided Megan and me.  Life on Riviera Drive was ideal, full of life, and provided our family with some lifelong memories and friends.  I always thought when Kris and I built our first home and moved in, our neighborhood would be like the one I had as a child.  I quickly learned the experience we had on that street isn’t easily recreated.

Life in Woodbury brought the next phase of our family.  I will always remember the joy on your face when we told you that you were going to be a grandmother for the first time.  Based on what I knew and heard from you about my own Nana Hazel, we knew you were meant to be a grandma.  When I called you right after Kate was born, I couldn’t even get the words out on the phone because I was overcome with emotion sharing with you that we had a daughter.  Eighteen short months later when we shared with you that you were going to be grandparents for a second time, your response was “Already!” 

I can still picture you walking into the hospital room for both Kate and Ben with your Gymboree packages.  You stated that the clerks could tell you were a new grandparent and fresh prey.  Your grandson Ben still has his Gymboree blanket in the closet and brings a smile to my face every time I see it. 

Our family became complete when Casey William entered the world.  I know there is something special about a mother seeing her daughter have her own child.  You were over the moon with excitement and love to have your three grandbabies surround you as much as possible.  I loved it when you would call and ask if you could just stop over and get your baby fix. 

You lived for holidays, get-togethers, and vacations as a family.  It meant the world to you and was the only thing that mattered.  One of my biggest regrets in life is that Kate, Ben, and Casey didn’t have the “true” grandma Jo Jo in their lives, once this disease took over.  On the other hand, there is nothing quite like seeing these young adults stand and sit by your bedside, take your hand, and tell you how much they love you.  They have handled this disease with strength, grace, and love. 

We all know that you could be a bit of a worrier.  I know at times you probably felt like you had to apologize for it, but thinking back I know the worry and concern over things came from a place of love, care, and concern.  If there are any benefits from having Alzheimer’s, and there aren’t; was that as you progressed through the disease your “worries” became less and less.  We enjoyed how you didn’t worry about traffic, weather, or any of the horrific events going on in the world.  You were able to stay in your own world of smiles, giggles, and happy thoughts. 

One of the biggest thank-yous I want to give you is for the unbelievable support you gave me and my family when I was diagnosed with cancer.   When I first found out I told Kris.  Then I wanted to tell you.  I called the house and dad answered.  After a few minutes of chit-chat, I asked if you were home and he said you were at your retirement dinner for the Wilder Foundation.  I told dad what was going on.  He later said, when you got home and looked at him; you knew something was wrong.  You always did have that sixth sense. 

Driving was not your thing.  But you got yourself in the car, on the freeway, and drove to Fairview Southdale each and everyday.  You sat by my bedside, got me anything I needed, and held the bucket while I was getting sick.  No man ever had a better support than having a wife like Kris and a mom like you.  Between the two of you, I had no choice but to get better and back to the living. 

I vaguely remember, but I know you and I have shared your Shirley McClain story many times.  After my major surgery for the cancer, they put me in a room with another patient.  That wasn’t what my doctor had ordered and it was NOT acceptable to you.  At first you were kind and polite with the nurses.  But after a couple hours when nothing was getting done, you hit that nurse’s station and made it clear your son would get his single room and get it now.  Within a few minutes I was resting comfortably in my new spacious single.  Moms seem to get what they want for their children. 

During this illness mom, one of the things I missed most was our daily conversations.  I remember leaving Prairie View, getting into my car, and calling you.  We would talk for the whole way home and sometimes even into the house.  Kris always knew who I was talking to when I walked in with the phone to my ear.  You listened, you asked questions, and always showed 100% interest.  It will always be one of my fondest memories you and I shared.  I can’t tell you how many times in the last few years when I wanted those afternoon 494 conversations back. 

It is funny how some of the things that probably use to irritate Megan and I, and I know for sure did Kris and Al, were all the phone calls from mom just checking in.  What I wouldn’t give to be able to have you do that again.  Several of your friends have mentioned that was how they knew things were changing for you.  You didn’t pick up the phone and call anymore.   One of your many talents was the gift for gab. 

While you had the gift for talk, dad was given the gift of being the strong silent leader of our family.  During this journey, I’ve often thought you and God gave us this challenge so that you were given a chance to take the backseat and dad got in the driver’s.   Megan and I have had the honor and privilege of standing by his side and navigating our way through these muddy and rough waters.  He stepped up to the plate and never veered from the path that had you front and center, and his complete focus.  I have gotten to know him more and more over the last few years and I couldn’t be more proud of the man you married 54 years ago this past July. 

Because of your Alzheimer’s, I know that Megan and I have become closer than we would have without the disease.  When you first started changing, I was probably in denial and looking the other way.  I didn’t want to think about you changing and leaving us.  There was a day when we were on the phone talking, and in her subtle and kind way, Megan told me it was time for me to step up and start helping her out.  I know since that conversation she and I have been partners, friends, and decision makers.  And every decision we made was with your BEST interest at heart. 

When Kris and I would talk about the progression of your illness and how dad was dealing with it, she said there is no man who loves his wife as much as he loves you.  He was the absolute best care giver and did everything in his power to keep you safe, comfortable, and at home.  What I think was truly remarkable was that he didn’t stop living or let you stop.  While it may have been easier to sit at home, he and the home care givers would take you to Kowalski’s, lunch, shopping, walks, and a variety of other places.  When it got hard for you to get in and out of the car; dad didn’t give up and say you should stay at home.  He found ways and tricks to help you maneuver in and out. 

I know one of the things dad feels the guiltiest about, is when we had to move you from home to New Perspectives Memory Care.  He held off as long as he could, but it finally got to a point when he just couldn’t do it anymore and it wasn’t safe for you at home.  We walked you into memory care in April of 2016.   The next day you were not walking anymore.  Maybe you knew that you were in a place where you could stop trying so hard as you had to back home. 

Mom, I know that having to spend the last two years at New Perspectives was not something you wanted for your life, but I must say you made the best of it and became a favorite of the caregivers and residents.  While Megan, dad, and I may not have always gotten that beautiful smile of yours on every visit, when any of the caregivers walked in and greeted Jo Jo, you always received them with a warm smile back.  You were sweet, kind, and so appreciative of all the care they provided you.  Every single one of the care givers would comment to us how sweet you were and they could tell what a wonderful and caring mother you were.  I told them they were 100% correct.  I remember recently talking with one of the staff and she said to me “I wish I could have a conversation with your mom.”  I looked back at her with tears in my eyes and said “I know what you mean!” 

Whenever it was time for me to leave your room, I would always whisper to you that I loved you and I would take care of dad and Megan.  That you had nothing to worry about and when you were ready to begin your next journey with God, we would be ok.  It amazed me how long you held on, fought, and stayed with us.  At times, it would break my heart to know the way you were being forced to live.  I hated it.  Kris would tell me that you were a strong-willed woman and just weren’t ready to leave us yet.  When it was time, you would let us know and we would follow your lead.  Not only do I have a really smart mom with good advice, I married a woman with those same incredible qualities. 

I want to thank you for leading our family for so many years and supporting us in whatever it was we decided to do with our lives.  There was nothing more important to you than the eight of us.  You welcomed Kris and Al into the Andrus family with open arms and knew your children had made the perfect choice for spouses.  You wrapped your three grandchildren in your arms and never let go. 

I have missed you for so long that I don’t know if I could miss you anymore, but somehow I know that the coming days, months, and years are going to be even more difficult than the past ones have been.  I’m not quite sure what my life will look like without you in it.  But I do know that I want to move forward and make you as proud of me as possible. 

As hard as it will be not having you to visit anymore, I know in my heart you are in a better place.  You are in a place that gives you a clear and open mind.  You are in a place that has given you all your memories back in full and high-definition color.  You are in a place where you can roam free with your legs.  You are in a place where you can eat ice-cream and drink all the white wine you want (with ice cubes of course).  You are also in a place where you can pick up the phone and call anyone of us at anytime of day just to “check-in”. 

It has been one heck of a journey mom and you did us proud.  I know it wasn’t the retirement years you and dad were hoping for, but as we all know, we have to deal with the cards we are dealt.  And deal we did! 

We took this Alzheimer’s road as a family.  But we could not have done it without the people you came to know and love.  Just know that your and dad’s friends were there for us.  Kris and my friends were a support system, just as I know they were for Megan and her family.  Not only did you make new friends while in memory care, but we got to know them as well.  We shared stories, experiences, tears, and support.  This is an ugly disease and too many families out there are dealing with it on a daily basis.  The care you received was top-notch and we all knew you were in the best place possible.

You always said you had some of the best friends ever.  I know you know, but we were fortunate for Judy, Joan, Betty-Jo, Tove, and others that stood by your side the entire way.  Your BFF, Tove, was one of a kind.  She made a point to visit and sit by your side multiple times a month without fail.  She was there with you when you started your life in Viking Village back in 1967 and she was here as you ended your journey during the summer of 2018.  We can never thank her enough for all you she did for you.  Tove, in our eyes, you have earned a special place in heaven. 

We are going to miss you more than ever mom! 

Kris loves you.

Kate loves you.

Ben loves you.

Megan, Al, and Casey love you.

And you know how much dad loves, adores, and cherishes you.  Just as much as you did him. 

I love you mother.  I hope I have made you proud and have become the man you raised me to be. 

Just know I will take care of Megan and dad and you have nothing to worry about. 

Go and be free with no worries and look down on the Andrus/Schneider/Gettles clan with that beautiful smile and sparkle in your eye. 

I love you!  Your son

PS:  The pilot has just announced we are making our decent into Minneapolis/St. Paul.  I have come home to see my mother for one last time with tears in my eyes and a heart that is bursting with pain but overriding that pain is the love I have for you…