Today marks two years since Mama
passed away. That’s a surreal feeling.
Mama was stubborn, she did what she wanted to do when she wanted to do it, and
she would let you know what she thought in a split second, good or bad. She could be as critical as anyone I’ve ever
known and if she thought you were doing something stupid, she never held back
her opinion. But there was an
overwhelming good side to Mama too. She
was forgiving. She might criticize
someone for a poor decision, but was quick to point out that everyone makes mistakes
and we should give people grace. She
would consider that everyone has different circumstances in their own lives and
be empathetic to anyone having a difficult time. She loved Deddy, she loved Carl, she loved me and Travis, her
grandchildren, sister, Mama and the rest of her family and friends. She could
command a room in just a few minutes with the funniest damn stories anyone has
ever heard. Mama was a light that gave me
hope and encouragement during the most difficult times of my life. I will always be grateful to her for
that. However, that’s not what I am
really writing about today.
When you go through tragedies in
life, it’s always difficult. Health
issues, difficult financial times, loved ones dealing with illness, and the
list goes on. You do the best you can to
manage the situation emotionally. But
quite often, it’s simply overwhelming.
I’ve always been tough during the battle. Deddy battled cancer for a year and I never
got upset in front of him one time. I
felt like that would bother him or make him feel like I’d had given up hope.
So, as his health declined during that year, I stayed strong in front of him to
constantly offer encouragement, hope and eventually acceptance. When Mama’s health started to decline, I
tried to stay strong for her too. But
for some reason, it was harder. We had a
running joke between us that Mama loved to give me the worst case scenarios of
every medical appointment she ever had.
When I was in college, I called her one time to see how things had gone
at an appointment with an ophthalmologist. She said…. “He told me I need a seeing eye dog.” That was hysterical to me, but typical of
Mama’s dramatic responses. We were
watching the movie Forrest Gump one time and the scene where he comes home
because his Mama was sick. When he gets
home, he walks into the room where his Mama is at and says, “What’s wrong Mama”
and she responds, “I’m dying Forrest.” I
told Mama that reminded me of her after EVERY SINGLE medical appointment she
had. Having the same dark sense of
humor, we both laughed hysterically. But
no matter what you are going through, your support system is critical. I cannot imagine enduring a difficult life
challenge without the support of friends and family. And in a difficult medical
situation, the staff around you and your family is imperative.
Travis and I realized Mama was
declining by the day early in 2024. When
her second husband, Carl Temple, passed away, as we left the graveyard after
the funeral, she said, “Robbie, I never imagined burying your Deddy at 48 years
old. But I never in a million years
imagined burying 2 husbands.” It was
obvious, she was devastated. Her and Carl were inseparable the last 10 years of her life. Mama just could not find consistent happiness
after he died. We started to realize the situation was
getting worse and we did everything we could bring her joy, encourage her to
look after herself and simply keep her interested in life. But no matter what we did, she could not find
the happiness she had most of her life.
At the very beginning of May, we realized that her situation was
becoming critical. On May the 9th,
with her approval, we took her to UNC-Holly Springs hospital. That was the last time Mama ever saw
home.
Of course, the situation was
difficult to handle emotionally. I told
Travis that we were going to have to directly ask her, what did she want us to
do? I prayed about it, worried about it,
I anguished about it. But before we
could ask her, she brought it up to us. When
she told us that she wanted us to “expedite the process”, I asked her “What
does that mean?” She told me to bring a gun to the hospital and shoot her to put
her out of her misery. I laughed, she
laughed, Travis shook his head. I
explained to her that although I had wanted to do that many times, that would
cause me to go to jail, so we were going to need a “Plan B.” Mama: “Keep me comfortable, keep me out of
pain, and you boys let me ride this out.
I’ve had enough.” That was
that. As mean as I am, and I am
mean…..it crushed my soul to hear that.
But I didn’t crack and even Travis held it together. A few days later, one of the doctors made a
few suggestions that actually offered some hope. I was with her by myself and I said, “Mama,
the doctor actually said……” She
interrupted me and simply said….. ”I’m dying Robbie.” Her response was meant two ways; a humorous
reference to the scene in Forrest Gump, and a serious acknowledgment that she
was done. That time, I almost cracked
and it was hard for me to hold it together.
Hell, I’m emotionally having a hard time typing this. I don’t ever want to even talk about it, so
don’t ask me.
We all have people that we admire
in life. I admired my father. I have admired all of my grandparents. I have been a huge fan of Michael Jordan
since he went to Carolina. I always had
great admiration for Billy Graham and I truly believe he represented the way
Jesus Christ wants you live. To me, he was a modern day Moses. But during Mama’s demise, I saw true heroes. I don’t remember all of their names, but my
gratitude to all of them is more than they will ever know. At UNC-Holly
Springs, “Team Station B” on the 5th floor were terrific. They were understanding, patient and did
whatever they could to keep Mama comfortable.
If she had a problem, they were quick to respond. They gave us an incredible amount of support
and I will be eternally grateful to all of them. After 2 weeks of having incredible care are
UNC-Holly Springs, Mama was transported to the Jim and Betsy Bryan Hospice Home
of UNC Health in Pittsboro, NC.
I don’t think I had ever been in a
Hospice facility until that day. It was
quiet, comfortable and peaceful for Mama and for us. The staff was incredible. The compassion shown by everyone there was
more than anyone could ask for. They explained
to us that it would not be like a typical hospital environment and they would
not wake her up when she was sleeping, take blood, or do anything to disrupt
her. That is exactly the way it was. They
attended to her but did not bother her. Everyone at the facility was
terrific. The doctors, nurses, CNA’s,
and administrative staff went above and beyond to keep her comfortable. She was only awake for 4 days. But even after the 4th day, they looked after
her with compassion and genuine kindness. I want to thank all of them for being the
people they are. One nurse in particular
was named “John.” He was with us when
she went to sleep for good, and he was with us when she passed. I will never forget the empathy he exemplified
during our time there. He even took the
time to come to the funeral home for Mama’s visitation AND he wore Carolina
socks! I’m going to be honest, it was
all I could do to maintain my composure when he came through the line. They had
a “celebration of life” in the year after Mama passed away for all families
that had been at the hospice house in Pittsboro and we agreed to attend. I wanted to thank everyone I saw that helped
us during Mama’s time there. But when we
got there, we didn’t see any of the staff that helped her. At first, I was surprised, but then I
realized why. For the staff of a hospice
house, ALL of their patients pass away. So, for them to come to that event, everyone
they spoke to, would be a family of a lost loved one. That would be incredibly difficult emotionally
and I totally understood.
We will all endure loss in life if
you live long enough. Our situation is
no sadder than the losses any of you have had.
For many of us, I don’t think we ever overcome significant losses. I
truly have a problem letting things go. I think we learn to accept it, while
maintaining our memories. For me, I often
reflect on the support system that we had as Mama’s health declined. The Temple family; Brenda, Fran, Nina,
Jeremy, Donald and Matt were all a blessing to us during that time. My family and Maria’s family checked on us
constantly and offered prayers and encouragement. Mema Cameron told us time and again that we
were doing all we could do and not to second guess ourselves because although
it was hard, we were truly honoring Mama’s wishes. Libby helped Mama a lot during that last
month and she was with us every spare moment she had. Lori McPherson was the essential reason that we got Mama into hospice. She gave me guidance countless times, made multiple phone calls on our behalf and helped facilitate getting Mama into a hospice house. Kim Garner came several times to sit with Mama to let me, Trav and Libby get some rest because between the 3 of us, we were with her 24 hours a day with the exception of just a few times. Our preacher, Bobby Rackley, visited Mama numerous
times and prayed with her and for her.
He conducted her funeral as if he had known her 25 years. Barbecue Presbyterian Church was incredibly
supportive in planning her funeral. The
ladies of Barbecue Church offered to prepare some “snacks” after the funeral so
we would have some more time to speak to people. It wasn’t a few snacks; it was basically a
full dinner with about 100 different items. They went way beyond what I expected them to
do. Molly McCormick Howsden helped
facilitate everything with Barbecue Church and will be forever grateful to her.
In a world that has lost its compass
in so many ways, we have grown to admire people and possessions that really
don’t matter. We see material things as achievements
and signs of success. We admire athletes, musicians, reality TV stars, and even
politicians. But when you are going through
a difficult time in your life, those people are not there for love and support.
The people around you are. I think for some people, it’s easy to lose sight of
that. But the truth is, your friends,
family, loved ones, church family and medical staff are there for you during
times of great loss. You see, none of
the people I have mentioned need a cape.
The staff of Team Station B doesn’t need a cape. The staff of the hospice
house in Pittsboro doesn’t need a cape.
John doesn’t need a cape. Because real heroes don’t need a cape. #Godbless
