Message-ID: <21046486.1075840042120.JavaMail.evans@thyme> Date: Thu, 31 May 2001 18:09:26 -0700 (PDT) From: mike.swerzbin@enron.com To: swerzbin@home.com Subject: FW: My mother's service Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-From: Swerzbin, Mike X-To: 'swerzbin@home.com' X-cc: X-bcc: X-Folder: \ExMerge - Swerzbin, Mike\Sent Items X-Origin: SWERZBIN-M X-FileName: -----Original Message----- From: Mark.Nehler@UCHSC.edu@ENRON [mailto:IMCEANOTES-Mark+2ENehler+40UCHSC+2Eedu+40ENRON@ENRON.com] Sent: Wednesday, May 23, 2001 11:37 AM To: mswerzb@ect.enron.com Subject: My mother's service Mike and Helen, Thanks very much for attending my mother's service. Sydney and I are sorry we did not get to spend more time with you during my time in Portland. I will make sure to contact you next time I am coming into town. I have enclosed a residency newsletter I sent out to all of the faculty and resident's summarizing my eulogy to my mother. I thought it would be useful as an educational tool as we all unfortunately have to go through this at some point. Please feel free to share it with whomever you wish. One of the things I have learned the most through all of this is the importance of sharing. Take care. I want to thank everyone who has written to me via mail or E-mail regarding the recent death of my mother. This has been a growth experience for me. Although I am emotionally devastated, I have learned a tremendous amount about life in the last few weeks and months. Since this topic is one we all must face at some time in our lives, I thought sharing some of this would be helpful for myself and also for those of you who have either faced it in the past or will in the future. It is really a tribute to my mother (a former schoolteacher), as this was her last lesson for me. The following is a summary of my eulogy to her at her memorial service 4/18/01. What I Learned: Reflections on my Mother's Life 1. True Love: My mother and I had a volatile relationship during part of my life. Like many people, I was very self-centered during my late teens and most of my twenties. I did well in my professional life, but I was not very giving in my relationships (either girlfriends or family). My mother was not shy to point out her disappointment with these behaviors and we had many heated discussions during that time period. I have noticed that many friends have had volatile relationships with their closest parent. I have learned that true love is about passion for the other person. One cannot be silent when you believe changes need to be made. Some of the hard times draw you even closer later in life. Ultimately, my mother was right. I am very proud of my 30s and grateful that she was able to witness my maturation as a person. 2. Grief: Of course, I have learned a lot about grief. Grief is 90% about you. In the last few days of her life, there were many tears. Almost all were mine. My mother had accepted her fate and had a strong Christian faith. She was primarily worried about the effect her death would have on my sister and I. The vacant spot in your heart and life cannot be measured. It will be a wound that cannot heal as you progress in your life and cannot directly share it with your loved one. It will come in waves triggered by various thoughts and activities, as if it was a neurologic disorder. All I can say as comfort to those who have not experienced it is this: When the unthinkable happens and you lose what you cannot bear to consider losing, your life is permanently changed. However, not all of the changes will be towards the abyss of permanent melancholy that you assume will occur. There will be growth and understanding. There will be spiritual and emotional opportunity. Friends and family will step up to the plate for you. (More on this later). 3. Role Models: Like most young boys, my idols as a child were the typical sport stars, people who did larger than life things that I had never met. I tried to pursue the usual goals of the young American male. I wanted to be physically attractive, well rounded and intelligent, and economically prosperous. I wanted to "have it all". As I grow older, my definition for "having it all" has changed. My father is an incredible man. He lost his left arm at the shoulder in a hunting accident age twelve. Despite this, he did everything a person with two arms could do, and sometimes even better. My friends looked at him as an incredible inspiration. I did not pay as much attention to my mother's attributes. She was simply an incredible giving person. The unfortunates, the lonely, the downtrodden never went unnoticed by my mother. She cultivated friends and family like a good farmer cultivates crops. The rewards of this became obvious to me as I spent more time with her in the last few years. People visited her constantly. People called about her constantly. People did things for her constantly. People prayed for her and loved her constantly. I never would have thought that as I approach 40, my most important role model would be a frail woman who spent a lot of time in a wheel chair. I will never be the same after going through this with her. For that, I will always be grateful. 4. Glass Half Full Person: My favorite quote from my mother is "I am having a good day". This was what I always heard when I would phone her to check on her which I did daily the last year. For my mom, seeing a nice arrangement of flowers, visiting with a relative or neighbor, these were the things that made life grand. As one gets busier and busier, I think one tends to become a glass half empty person more and more. Accomplishments just lead to more deadlines. The focus is on what you don't have rather than what you have. Perspective can become fatally altered. I notice the flowers more, the kindness I see more, the sights and smells of the world more, and appreciate the life I have built more rather than focusing on the life I want to build. This is probably the most important lesson my mother taught me. 5. Caregivers: As a person in the medical profession, I witness care giving every day. However, until you have participated in it yourself, particularly with a loved one, you have not really lived. The intimacy you get with the person who you make meals for, wash for, and help with ADLs is not describable. You develop little rituals that you look forward to as much as the person you do it for. It takes a special type of person to do this kind of work full-time. Those moments with my mother will sustain me the rest of my life no matter what happens to me. 6. Priorities: We all think everything we do is the most important thing on this planet. Going through this, I realize that nothing is more important in your life than your family. Dr. Krupski said it best when I came into his office in tears several times needing to go home to be with my mother this last year. He said "Ten years from now, you will not remember what paper you wrote, what operation you did, what talk you gave. But, you will always remember and treasure the time with your mother. Go home." He was right, and I will never be able to repay him for the ability to spend time with her. 7. Friendships/Neighbors: As I stated, my mother was excellent at cultivating these relationships. It is really not rocket science, it just requires your time and being open. I was amazed that she kept contact with 8 friends from high school (50 years) till the day of her death. They would get together regularly. In the modern world, this is very unusual. Perhaps it is because we all have distorted priorities. In addition, she had a very tight bond with her neighbors. I remember we had all of the neighbor kids playing at our house regularly because of the size of our yard. One day a boy broke his leg (clearly an immediate lawsuit today), but that did not stop the neighborhood kids. My mother was on hospice months before she officially went on the list. It was the neighborhood hospice. They would drive her places, fix her plumbing, and mow her lawn, all for free. They would bring food, come visit, and share their lives with her. It was an incredible thing to see. 8. Courage: My mother spent the last 30 months of her life with an hematocrit between 15 and 25. She rarely complained. She mustered the strength in the last year to attend my sister's wedding, her high school reunion, and shop for holidays and decorate the house for Christmas. She went to restaurants with friends. A month before her death she went to lunch with me twice, went on a trip to a local waterfall, and went shopping at the local center. She did all of this with a hematocrit of 17. Seventeen is the number I will always remember when I am tired and wishing I could sleep but the life and job I have requires my time. 9. Acceptance: How does one learn to live with the unthinkable? Well, I have come to understand many things. The worst part of chronic illness is watching your loved one slowly fade over time. However, they are so miserable at the end that having them leave is more acceptable. My mother had a tremendous faith, and I know she is in a better place. I have changed as a person based on the above reflections, and I understand that part of her will always live on through my life and actions. It is a time of great emotion, but also great opportunity. Many friends and family come out to support you, which allow a chance to reunite past relationships with others. My sister and I have become very close through all of this. That would make my mother proud and happy. Memorial services and the like are all about celebration of life. There are tears, but most of remembrance is the honor of sharing the person's life. I know my mother more now than I ever did. I have 2.5 hours of her on video to share with my future children so they can know her too. I am the product of two schoolteachers. They were awesome teachers and not surprisingly awesome parents. Much of what we are comes from those that raised us. I did not understand that before. I do now. Thanks for allowing me to share some of my mother's life with you. Hopefully it will be as meaningful to you reading it as it was to me writing it. Mark R. Nehler, M.D. Assistant Professor Vascular Surgery Section University of Colorado Health Sciences Center 4200 East Ninth Avenue, #5521 Denver CO 81262-0312 303-315-6489 Mark.Nehler@UCHSC.edu