ER Stay-- All 96 Hours of It

We arrived at the ER to find Ben semi-non-responsive--not talking, eating, or drinking.  He showed little response to things in his environment or to the needs of his own body.  Immediately the need to find him a higher level of care was apparent and acknowledged by us, hospital staff, and his treatment team at Davis Behavioral Health.  But that process couldn't even start until he was examined by a member of the Crisis management team.  Meanwhile, nothing could be done or would be done to treat his schizophrenia or the catatonia.  It was a frustrating wait for the crisis worker.

The crisis worker arrived around 2:00---if you can describe "arriving" when a staff member rolls a computer screen into the room for our virtual therapy assessment.  I assumed that the use of the teletherapy was due to Covid as crisis workers would need to be in many places in a hospital and meet with a variety of people so I had tolerated it the day before.  However, I learned that it wasn't due to Covid, but a cost-cutting method to have crisis workers centrally located and available to "work" at a number of hospitals.  I was not a fan on that Thursday.  Ben was totally unresponsive and without a "human" present to try to establish rapport, it was an impossible situation. She couldn't get Ben to say it was okay to talk to us (hello, catatonia).  I said, "You might not be able to talk to us, but I can talk to you without written permission," so in that way was able to update her related to Ben's current situation (beyond what she could see herself--that's what having a MS in social worker prepares you to manage.) At the end of it all, she indicated that she supported the need for a higher level of care and would begin looking for a spot for him but because he hadn't given her permission to talk to us, she wouldn't be able to tell us where they moved him. Only he could.  I reminded her that he was under commitment with DBH and he could not be moved without their permission and they(DBH) would keep us informed. It turned out that beds were hard to find and the crisis team was equally as hard to find--both for us and for the ER itself.

Gary and I made a plan to each spend a couple of hours Thursday evening to finish our remarks for the funeral--Gary took 7:00-9:00 pm and then I took 9:00-11:00 pm, and then I picked up Gary and headed home for some sleep.  We had informed the ER staff about our situation and indicated that we would be back after the graveside service, but to please keep us informed about him being moved.  We had hoped that Ben would be asleep by the time Gary had to leave, but it was not the case and Ben was distressed which made it hard for Gary to leave.

We checked with the ER in the morning before heading to the viewing (The ER could talk to us) and Ben had not slept the entire night again, but he had eaten a sandwich.  The ER had no news about moving Ben to another place.

DBH told us that they had heard that no beds were available at the preferred hospitals, but that crisis was still "looking." Friday afternoon after the graveside service, I was told that Ben would be moving to a hospital in Salt Lake, but a few hours later the ER was told that move was off.....and so our ER stay continued.

It was a terrible situation.  Each evening, we talked to a crisis worker who didn't know what the previous one had done, who never called us or the ER back, and never updated the incoming worker.  Apparently there were no beds which would take someone so sick, and that was confirmed by Ben's DBH psychiatrist who was also trying to work to find him a bed.  Meanwhile, no treatment was being done for Ben.  ER docs are not set up to provide mental health treatment, just mental health crisis management.  Therefore they did not give him medications that he had been taking even though they had the list "because they don't do treatment."  I had to insist on medications and then they were asking me what dose and how often and other medical questions. I was emailing his doctor and she was giving me directions on what to do and what dosing, etc.  

ERs are noisy and chaotic places frequently and being in a small room with no windows is very disorienting even in the best of times. For Ben, it was a nightmare.  Caught up in his psychosis and catatonic state, he was unable to eat or sleep or to understand what was happening around him. Staff trying to help him or encourage him to drink or give him an IV panicked him.  When he began talking, his psychosis became loud and demanding--also not the best thing in an ER with other patients.

Gary and I stayed at the hospital almost all of the time because we didn't feel that he was in a place that could care for him and his needs and he was getting worse.  Gary took some time on Saturday to spend with Jena, Scott, and Tosha and her family at Lagoon but then came and sat in the hall of the ER when Ben was too distressed to have us both in the room. Most of the time we were just trying to ground him and reassure him that everything was okay while trying to fix this issue for him.  Sometimes holding his hand was all we could do.

Saturday morning, finally someone from the hospital's psych unit came down and assessed him, saying that his needs could not be met in their unit (which we agreed as Ben had a bad experience there in the past.) but he did order some medications to be resumed for Ben to begin treating some of his symptoms. Unfortunately I had to still ask for the medication because ERs are not set up to treat people and give medications on a regular basis.

And crisis management continued to be a comedy of errors.....

We thought there was a place for him in Utah county and a move was to be made at 10:00 pm Saturday night---then that was stopped and we were back to nowhere land again. Finally someone said to us that moves won't happen on the weekend so it will be Monday before a bed will be available.  That was scary to know but also good, because we certainly didn't start this process thinking Ben would be in a small ER room until Monday.  So we waited with Ben and tried to help him the best we could in an impossible situation.

The problems with that ER stay were huge and will probably require some official complaining and advocating on my end in behalf of Ben and others like him......

BUT like I mentioned about my mother-in-laws passing, what stands out is the kindness and concern of others.  The ER staff--doctors, nurses, security, and CNAs were so kind to us and to Ben--even at his most difficult.  They were almost more frustrated and angry about the situation than we were.  They started calling their supervisors and their bosses to manage the situation.  They brought us sandwiches and water and were frequently checking in with us to see how we were doing. They sat with Ben when we had to leave to catch some sleep or attend the funeral.  When I asked for something for Ben, medication, IVs, ice, whatever, they tried to make it happen as soon as possible. Every doctor who spoke to us directly apologized for the situation and expressed their support.  Every nurse who came back on shift and saw us still there expressed their concern.  They thanked us for the care we gave Ben.  One night the desk clerk helped me walk in the hallway to get Ben out of the room.  She had formerly worked at the State Hospital and was especially incensed that Ben was still in the ER.

Ben's psychiatrist was amazing.  She continued to reach out to me over the weekend when she was "off" to check on Ben and to continue to advocate for him.  A staff member came over to see Ben and when he discovered that Ben didn't have any clothes and his keys were lost, went and bought him some underwear and dropped them off.  In the middle of Saturday night when Ben was in crisis and I was trying to restrict the medication they were planning to give him (due to adverse reactions) I called the CRU and spoke to the nurse there.  She was so supportive and calming.  She has known Ben a long time and she immediately reassured me that my insistence about certain medications was appropriate and gave me some alternatives to suggest to the doctor.

I left the hospital about 3:00 am Monday morning even though Ben was still awake so that I could see Tosha and her family as they left for Washington at 4:30 a.m. It was only the second time that I saw the grandchildren that entire weekend and only Niki was awake.  Tosha said that Ava would wandering around our house saying "Grandma" over and over looking for Gary or I.  She said it was really sad...and it made me feel sad as well.

Gary had told me that I could not return to the hospital for 7 hours so I didn't head back until about 9:30 to find that they were going to move him upstairs to the hospital's in-patient unit.  After conferring again with his psychiatrist, we decided to allow that move even though it took us off the lists for possible beds in more desirable places, some which were to come available that afternoon.  We couldn't risk it as Ben needed to get out of there.  It was frustrating as we believe that they took him because of the legal risk of having him in the ER without suitable treatment, not because they believed they were the right placement.  They first said that I could not go with him or speak to anyone on the unit because of Covid--but the ER administrators were not in the mood for me to not get what I wanted and they took me upstairs and forced the issue.

A week later (last Monday) he was moved back to the CRU where he wanted to be and felt more comfortable.  He is still struggling but is eating and drinking and talking some.  Unfortunately, he is back on the medication that caused all of his health problems so we are back to square one.  We had to cancel his CT scans and appointments with the kidney doctor to allow him to stabilize so we are back to a longer wait to get some treatment ideas for his liver.  And poor Ben--he has been through it with his illness over the past several weeks.  This has not been easy for Gary and I and our family, but Ben has to keep on fighting while we can step away from it to sleep or do other things.

And underlying all of this, we still have not been able to tell Ben that his grandmother has passed away.  That breaks my heart for him!  He will also be heartbroken--both for the loss of his grandmother but also that his illness took away his opportunity to be there with us and the extended family--to mourn and to help us.

Fighting the Battle of Life

It is hard to imagine what could interfere with the matters of planning for a funeral of your mother-in-law, but sometimes life among the living gets complicated.  In this case, it was regarding Ben. (Warning:  This might be more information than you want to know, but I don't know if family members in the future might have to deal with something similar and I want to make sure they know some of the hard stuff.)

Backtracking in the timeline a bit to the end of August:  It was decided that Ben needed to transition between the antipsychotic that he has been on for the past 3 years to another one, due to the harmful effects that medication was having on Ben.  As a result of taking that medication, Ben had gained over 90 lbs., has very high cholesterol levels that didn't respond to taking three different medications at the same time, developed fatty liver disease, and was diagnosed with diabetes 2.  His liver enzymes continued to worsen beyond what is expected with fatty live disease so more tests had been ordered.  He has a cyst in his liver and also one on or in his kidney and a mass around his gall bladder.  These things can be fairly benign issues or something more serious, so more tests have been ordered.  Over the past year, efforts have been made to help him lose weight with no luck.  This particular medication takes away the body's ability to feel full so you feel constantly hungry. And we discovered that some of those medications were also negatively affecting his liver. Yuck!

So after trying a few other things to relieve the liver issue, Ben's psychiatrist changed him to another medication and tapered him off the first one.  Within a week, Ben started struggling with symptoms.  He mostly lives with voices in his head, because he can't tolerate high doses of the medication.  However, as he weaned off one and ramped up the new one, he quickly became overwhelmed by the voices, anxiety, and other related symptoms.  As a result, by September 16, he decided to admit himself into the CRU so that he could get extra support as he made this transition.  So he spent his 32nd birthday in the CRU except for heading to Davis Hospital for a echo on his heart (his heart is doing great--a piece of good news.)

He stayed there for 10 days and was released on September 26 even though we expressed our feelings that he was not ready to return back to his apartment. 

The next day, he called me and asked if he could come and stay at our house for the day.  He hadn't slept at all the night before and was experiencing a high level of confusion and distress.  He came and spend the day with Jena since we were over at Mom Hall's house playing games.  He was calmer that night after sleeping at our house and wanted to go back home.

He headed back home that night.  On Sunday, Gary went over to bring him to our house for dinner, but Ben refused to leave his house.  Gary stayed with him a while, but then headed home and told me that he had not seen Ben that sick for a very long time.  A worry, but too much was happening to do anything about it that night.

Monday morning about four hours after Gary's mom had passed away, Ben called.  He was very anxious and talking very fast and soft.  I was very worried, but was reassured a bit when he said that he was at Journey House (a place at Davis Behavioral Health where he can go during the day and be with others).  I knew that they would keep their eyes on him and send him to the CRU if needed.  Gary and I had decided that we needed to tell Ben about his grandma in person and had planned to do that on Monday night.

About 5:30, I got an email from his therapist telling me that Ben had been readmitted to the CRU.  Although that made me sad, it also meant that he was with people that knew him and they would help him, while we were busy with handling things at home.

Tuesday I spoke with his therapist and asked if there was a way that Gary and I could speak to Ben in person and tell him about his grandma.  Because of Covid, no visitors are allowed so it meant that special permissions had to be granted.  The therapist indicated that he had an appointment with Ben on Wednesday morning and he would be walking Ben from the CRU to his office and we could meet in his office and talk to him for as long as we needed.  So a plan was made--10:00 on Wednesday in Jeff's office.

Wednesday:  During my morning prayer, I felt a distinct impression that Ben needed a blessing today and it needed to be a blessing of the sick.  Although I had prayed about Ben earlier in my prayer, I was not thinking about this or praying about him at the time I felt this.  Ben has been struggling with schizophrenia for over 13 years and he has asked and gotten blessings over that time--maybe two or three.  Gary believes that people should ask for a blessing, so I wondered how he would feel if I told him that Ben needed a blessing today--and not just of comfort but with the oil...when Ben had not indicated a desire for a blessing.  However, as soon as I asked Gary, he immediately agreed, saying that me asking was enough.

Although we have many wonderful friends and family members, we know that Ben is cautious about who sees him when he is very sick.  We decided that we would call our Bishop who is also the CEO of Davis Behavioral Health and ask who in that office would be able to assist Gary in giving a blessing.  Our thought was that they would be familiar with the illness and not surprised by the situation.  Even though our bishop works out of a different office, he immediately offered to come and assist Gary and said that he would get there shortly before 10:00.  That was a sweet gesture and we appreciated it so much.  It became even more.

I received a call from our social worker saying that our meeting had moved to a CRU office as they felt Ben wasn't stable enough to leave the CRU and that he (the therapist) was also running late.  I told him about our plan to give Ben a blessing and he told us to go ahead to the CRU and they would be ready for us.  He would join in about 15 minutes.  Gary and I headed to the waiting room to wait for our Bishop before going to the CRU.  I had forgotten my phone so went out to the car to grab it when I saw our Bishop and the director of the CRU coming across the parking lot from the CRU.  As I approached him, the Bishop told me, "Ben has been throwing up and they have taken him to the ER at Davis Hospital." We grabbed Gary and sat down in a conference room and the CRU director updated us on Ben's mental health and their concern about his throwing up. We then headed to the ER which is about 2 minutes away.

I was struck by the need for Ben to have a blessing today and was so grateful to have Gary and our Bishop ready and able to make that happen for him.  And with the nurse "turning her back, while our bishop who also was the CEO of DBH" came into the room, Gary gave Ben a powerful blessing--not of cure and symptom relief but of hope for great knowledge in the future and other important things.  I don't know how Gary did it--two important blessings for people that he loves in the same week under difficult situations.  He is my rock for sure.

Then we waited in the ER for about 8 hours while they ran some tests and we met virtually with a crisis worker.  Ben was basically catatonic during this---no talking or responding, very rigid in his movements, and little reaction to anything around him.  He was not eating or drinking.  He hadn't been sleeping over the past few days.  That was the worry with the throwing up--was there a physical cause of the catatonia or was it part of the schizophrenia?

The physical causes were ruled out and the decision was made for Ben to go back to the CRU.  Gary left shortly after that decision was made to pick up Scott from the airport.  I stayed with Ben and spent 45 minutes getting him from the ER to my car due to his catatonic and high anxiety state.  ER staff was supportive but didn't have any idea of how to help me help Ben in this situation. We made it to the car and surprisingly he transitioned to the CRU without difficulty although it took a wheelchair to move him from the car to the unit.

I rushed home and spent an hour rushing around trying to make the house presentable (Scott, Gary and Jena had headed to Panda Express for dinner.) as Tosha and her family was arriving around 8 pm as well.  Unfortunately my goal to clean the refrigerator and groom the dogs didn't happen before they arrived.  I am not going to lie when Ava (age 22 months) first saw me and said, "Grandma" I almost broke down in tears.  It was just what I needed--three excited grandchildren to lightened what had been a very difficult day and few weeks.  So glad to have them here.  We spent the evening talking and playing with grandkids and getting to read them bedtime books.  I had worried that having kids would be an extra stress on me.  It actually was very stress-relieving to be with them and to feel their love and excitement about being here with Gary, Jena and I.  It was perfect even in the middle of everything.

We had a busy day planned for funeral prep, but Charon and Vonette had taken over our lists as well as their own lists and kept things on target.  We climbed into bed (late once again) and fell asleep--hoping that we could finish everything we needed to do on Thursday.

I woke up about 4:00 am and couldn't fall back to sleep, so finally at 5:00 I got up and handwrote my thoughts for my remarks for the funeral and then sent out some texts to my nieces and nephews about their memories of Grandma Hall.  About 8, I headed back to bed for some more sleep, getting up and ready around 9:30 to meet Vonette and Charon at Grandma's at 10:00 to continue the planning needed for the next day. It was going to be another busy day--but when you are mourning, busy isn't bad in spurts.

And then the phone rang and it was Ben's psychiatrist--Ben had been moved back to the ER at Davis Hospital.  So Gary and I whipped around the house, saying good morning and goodbye to Scott and Tosha, Austen and the grandkids, and headed to the hospital--texting our regrets to Charon and Vonette--once again we had to choose the current battle over funeral preparation.  That alone is a heartbreaking choice to make.  We were so appreciative of the support of Charon and Vonette while we left them with our list as well as theirs for the funeral and the family dinner afterwards.

...and we went through Covid screening once again as we entered the ER for the second day in a row.  Little did we know at that time what this was going to look like.........

The First Days

I actually can't remember much about the first day.  I had to check my phone to check to see if I called Jessica, Scott and Tosha or had texted them about their Grandma's passing.  I was relieved to see that I had called each of them.  Of  course, we had tried to keep them updated over the past few weeks, but they were as surprised as we were that it was so fast.

The things I do remember over the next days were the kindnesses of friends, extended family, and strangers.  Those are the things that touch me and strengthened me during that following week.

We had had Jena spend the Sunday night with the Woodrows so that she wouldn't be alone during the night.  Over the past two weeks she had spend a lot of time alone and we didn't want that to include night times as well.  She had had a good time with Rance and his girl friend (and one of Jena's favorite people) Sadie Nemelka, so it worked out, but she was NOT happy at first that she couldn't stay home by herself.  I think she could have, but I didn't have the energy to figure out if I was okay with that or not.  I promised her that Monday night she could stay home alone if needed.

As a result, Debbie Woodrow was the first person I told outside the family.  About an hour later, she arrived with a box of bagels and two spreads.  It touched my heart and seriously was about the only thing we all ate that first day until we ordered some dinner other that Pop-tarts and nuts that I had grabbed on the way out the door the night before. Grieving and food is a weird combination--sometimes you can't eat at all and other times all you want to do is eat.

At 9:00 am, a dentist office called to remind Holly of her upcoming cleaning. My sister-in-law somewhat abruptly told the caller that she had died that morning.  (I am not sure why she even answered the phone. It was all still very fresh and overwhelming.)  About four hours later, a car drove up and a person delivered a beautiful flower arrangement from the dentist.  We go to the same dentist and he really is that kind of person, but it was another act that made it all so real but also showed the willingness of others to truly mourn with those that mourn.  Those were the only actual flowers that came to the house--many others came to the funeral home and we enjoyed them on the day of the funeral. 

Monday evening, Gary and I sat down and talk to Jena in person.  It is moments like this when I realize that Jena is a person of great faith and she feels safe in her understanding of things.  She was tearful and brave but she was also calming to us.  Like our other kids, her concern was for us and especially for her dad.

Because of the upcoming General Conference weekend, we quickly decided that we wanted to do the funeral on Friday before Conference rather than waiting for the following Monday.  As we talked before going to the mortuary, we decided in light of Covid restrictions and to minimize travel and stress that we would do everything on Friday.  So we went to the mortuary with a good idea of what we wanted.  We knew the songs Mom Hall wanted and that her funeral should be an hour only.

Our ability to work together and to accomplish everything that needed to be done that week was so comforting to me.  Being with Vonette and Gary and Charon and Mike (along with Gary, of course) during that week and this past week was the best thing to soothe my sadness and to help me remember the joy of Mom's passing for her and other loved ones.

We continued to reach out to family and friends and figure out funeral and other details.  It is a big job, but it was holy and sweet work as well.  We all received texts and Facebook comments that shared memories of Holly that others had or offered support to us as individuals and families. Again, same as when Lance passed away, the need to see and be hugged by people was very strong--such a part of how we typically mourn with others.

Maggie Bird--Charon's mother in law, became our angel, bringing us food on Tuesday and then pies on Thursday.  Oh, how valuable those sweet acts of service were to us that first week.

So hour by hour we mourned and worked towards the next thing as we prepared for Friday and the funeral--except when more important things happened.

"Through the Valley and Shadow of Death..."

It was only on September 16th, that Holly (my mother-in-law) and the rest of us were informed that not only was her heart failing, but that she had cancer in her lungs and spine.  On that day, she chose to go on hospice which we all supported with heavy hearts.  I think we all understood it was the right choice, but it just was unexpected to us to be at this junction of the road. Charon and Mom Hall met with a hospice worker and started the process which was continued the following day at her house.  She was given a set of medication to help when the time came and it was set that the nurse would come weekly until more services were needed. We felt (at least I did) that we were settling in for a long journey.  I remembering thanking Heavenly Father that our mission call was to Salt Lake City--much like I felt about my own dad when we received our call in May--I was grateful to not be going to outer Mongolia with now both of our parents' health declining.

I passed Charon the following morning on the Syracuse trails while she was running and I was walking and we stopped and talked a bit about the hospice service.  Charon was concerned and felt like the nurse didn't related to mom and Charon wasn't feel good about their approach.  I suggested that they try three visits before making the decision to change as sometimes certain things have to be done in the first appointments and maybe it would be better on the third one---However, if the third one was bad, then we needed to fire them and find someone else.

The following Monday was the third visit---and they didn't show for the appointment time or even notify us of any change of the appointment--and it got worse from there.  So despite my sweet mother-in-law's wish to give them one more chance--Charon fired them the next day and made a switch to another provider that she knew about.  Andrea came on Wednesday (the 23rd--Gary's birthday) and they all hit it off great. Charon was so relieved as we all were. Wednesday was a great day with game playing, yummy desserts, and a hospice team she felt good about!

Unexpectedly for me, anyway, Mom Hall had a harder night on Wednesday night and decided to use the morphine that hospice had left to ease her breathing Thursday morning.  I don't think any of us were expecting to open the morphine that early, although we were all happy that she felt confident to use it when she was not feeling well.  What we all wanted was for her to be comfortable and have fun through the remainder of her life and to be able to do the things that she wanted to do.  We were glad that she had access to that type of support and we were grateful for hospice and what they had provided.

Although the original plan was for weekly visits with the new hospice worker, we were concerned about Mom and asked the hospice worker to stop by.  She showed up later that day and Gary and I were able to meet her as well.  We liked her and felt like this was just what Mom Hall needed as well as the rest of us. Charon had a trip to Park City planned over the weekend and we sent her off with assurances that we would keep her informed and "go have a fun time with your daughters and granddaughters."  At least for me, I was still feeling that we had weeks or months left and we needed to give each other breaks.  Charon had spent most of the week during the day with Mom and so we convinced her to take the planned trip.

Friday and Saturday we saw significant changes in Mom Hall's mobility.  She was getting weaker and sleeping more.  However, she still got up each morning and got dressed for the day.  Saturday Vonette and Gary Kerr came down for the day and we played card games with mom all afternoon.  She was definitely beginning to struggle to stay awake between turns but she continue to be able to play the games and actually tied for the win that afternoon.  We were texting updates to Charon which she said were helpful but also worried her as it sounded to her (and truly what we were seeing) that there was a definite decline over those days.

Vonette and Gary decided that someone needed to stay with Mom full-time and so Gary stayed on Saturday night.  Mom Hall required some support to walk to her room and with getting ready for bed, but most of the time, she would wave me off and do it herself.

Sunday morning, we all ended up at the house again.  Charon arrived early in the morning from her trip to Park City, saying she just wanted to me there.  I got it.  We all were feeling it, even though I think we all were feeling that she had weeks or more until she would pass away.  Sunday was the first day that she actually used a walker that Charon had brought over to help walk around instead of holding on to the walls like the past few days.  We all had a nice visit with Nathan and Cynthia (one of the grandsons).  We did most of the talking while Mom Hall slept off and on.  She was glad to have them come, although she was very clear that she didn't want the great-grandchildren to see her "this way."

After Nathan left, we invited Holly's ministering brother to come over and join with us in giving her a blessing.  It was a special time to share together as Mike, Gary K., and Bro. Lloyd joined Gary as he pronounced a blessing on her.  The one theme was that God was preparing for her return.

We then spent time working out the schedule for sleeping at Mom's house and covering the days as well as making a list of the things she needed to make her life easier including modifications in her shower.  Assignments were given, we headed home, while Charon took the Sunday evening shift.

One feeling that was very pronounced for me on this Sunday was the strong feeling of my mom being close near me.  This is only the third time that I have felt my mom in that specific way and was by far the longest period of time--it lasted through the afternoon and into the evening.  Just prior to my mother passing away, I had felt the presence of my grandmother very strong in her hospital room.  I was thinking I would feel something similar around Mom Hall--but with my father-in-law or my sister-in-law who have both passed away. I never felt them in that way and during the evening felt like we couldn't be that close, because I hadn't felt them near.  Yet my own mom was very close.

I actually am not sure of when Charon called us and asked us to come back to the house--I think around 9:30 pm. Charon said that mom had struggled getting ready for bed and it had been a long process.  She felt like her breathing was getting more difficult and thought we should come ourselves.  We got there in a few minutes but Vonette and Gary live about an hour away so they had to make the long journey back through the canyon in the dark. We talked together and I think internally we were all doing what we could to prepare for what was ahead for Mom Hall and for us being left behind.  

Charon had also called the hospice people.  Being Sunday night, the person on call came and she was great. She assess Mom and talked to us and gave us support.  She told us that her passing was coming closer, but it could be in a few minutes or a few days.  All we could do was wait and make sure that she remained out of pain and peaceful. I gathered her favorite pictures of Dad Hall and Valerie and moved them into her bedroom, because I thought that we should "all" be together.

(A side note:  This photography of Valerie is one that we had never seen until a couple of months ago.  Valerie passed away suddenly 7 years ago on Gary's birthday.  Mom and Valerie shared the same hairdresser and a couple of months ago, the hairdresser gave Mom this photo.  She had taken it after Valerie had her hair done one time so that they could remember how the cut looked.  What a sweet surprise.  Mom Hall placed the framed photo on the table in the living room for the past few months where we could all enjoy it.)

We stayed together in her room, occasionally wandering around for water or private space. We constantly were checking her O2 levels.  About midnight, Gary suggested that we head home for sleep and told his sisters to call anytime that they wanted.  Just before we left, I felt prompted to tell his sisters that although we would all want to be here when she passed away, it would be okay if it didn't happen that way.  "We don't always get the Hallmark moment and that is okay."  I didn't want them to feel this burden of when to call us or not as they cared for their mother.

We haven't talked a lot about that night, but I know that both Charon and Vonette stayed on or near her bed all night.  Charon may have slept a few minutes here and there, Vonette didn't sleep at all.  They kept checking Mom's oxygen levels with our small monitor.  Charon said that she would test it and then a minute or two minutes later, Vonette would reach across Mom and grab it and check her levels on another hand.  Through out the night, Mom slept in a mostly non-responsive state, not apparently aware of the watchful care of these two sweet daughters. They watched the monitor as her levels of oxygen continues to lower. Just after 6:00 am,  his sisters called and asked us to come.  When we arrived, Mom Hall had just passed away a few minutes before.  They reported that she only struggled in the last few minutes before she passed away--peacefully around 6:15 a.m.

Like Gary has said so many times, we rejoice for her.  She has wanted to be with her husband for so long.  She missed him and her yearning for him was well-known.  She would now also see her beloved parents including her biological father who she had never met on earth because he died right before she was born.  She was reunited with her daughter, Valerie and grandchild, Carmen and grand granddaughter, Hannah. Plus myriad of other family that she has loved.  Her body was now no longer slowing her down.  We are so happy for her.

But we are sad for ourselves--for the space that is now empty in our lives.  That is the way of life and the price of loving.  It is a price we are willing to pay to love people on earth.  Losing someone reignites the remembrance of past losses as well--so recently of my brother-in-laws, Lance and Joe, my Aunt Zina, my new cousin, Erik, and the more distant ones of my mom, grandmother, aunts and uncles.  So grateful for the gospel that provides a framework to manage sorrow and understand the purposes of why we are here.  The knowledge that they still exist and that we will be reunited as we leave this earth provides such comfort at times like this.

For Mom Hall, she endured to the very end.  She did each thing required of her.  And she received some of her wishes---she was able to remain in her home, she never required full-time care (I suspect she heard us talking about being with her 24 hours a day and she didn't want that to happen.), she was able to meet her personal needs until the last 48 hours of her life, and she did not suffer in pain or fear at the end of her life.  I realize that not all people are blessed with these wishes being met.  But I am glad for Mom that she was.  We acknowledge the hand of God in her life even unto the end of her earthly life.

One last thing:  my post on Facebook (and some photos)--

Wayne and Holly

"Shortly before dawn on Monday morning, my sweet mother-in-law left this life and moved onward to be with her beloved husband and loving family. She had always been a morning person—up to meet the demands of life with graciousness, kindness and lots and lots of hard work. It doesn’t surprise me that she beat the sun up that day. She was anxious for the new adventures with my father-in-law who proceeded her in death.

We are grateful for her influences in our life and we know we will continue to benefit from her love and example. Thanks for loving me as your daughter-in-law, for raising my sweet husband, and caring for my children as their grandmother.

“God be with you til we meet again” Holly Hall!"

Picture used for engagement announcement in newspaper-

Gary with parents and his sisters-- I think this was around 1989.

Bear Lake Reunion in 2013--

Photos taken during family pictures in 2010 around her yard.  This was grandpa's tractor.

And then our work of grieving began-- September 28, 2020----