Celebrate Life

I want to share some thoughts on friendships and motherhood and daughterhood and life.

A couple of years ago one of my friends got a harsh diagnosis for her mama; a memory altering dementia. I’d only been friends with her for a couple of years, (but friends with her husband since middle school) and while we had a good friendship, I photographed her birth, we weren’t yet as close as we are now. Friendships are like that, they grow and evolve and each lesson one friend learns the other learns too. My friend moved from Phoenix to Colorado shortly before this diagnosis so her trips home often revolved around taking care of her mama, but we always meet up while she’s in town and I see the work she’s putting in to care for her mom and the effort it takes to support her through this wild ride called life (and now my generation is taking care of a parent or parents). One trip, she asks if I can I notarize some paperwork for her to get her mom in a good spot financially. My friend cleans out her mama’s house and shares treasures. I have them in my kitchen and living room. Her mom had great taste. Anyway, they sell the house and she moves her mom to CO with her. It works for a bit then, her mom’s friend offers to have her live with her back in Phoenix. Sweet right, like a good friend to help with the situation. So, I meet my friend, her mom and her mom’s friend. We talk and joke and get the forms filled out, everything in proper order, all the forms notarized. They leave. It’s been a few years and it feels like she’s in a good place emotionally, still losing precious memories, and sometimes confused but she’s with her friend, they’re having a good time, until it gets hard for her friend and they start talking about places for her mama to live with more support - my friend sets up tours with long term living centers and plans the things. Well, covid hits, the world turns upside down. She can’t get her into any facilities because she can’t tour them and they finally find somewhere for December 2020. But then her mom falls and breaks her ankle. Otherwise healthy, just a broken ankle. She goes to the hospital alone, because covid. She doesn’t understand because her memory is gone, where is she? why isn’t her daughter there? why is everyone wearing so much PPE? She survives the hospital, without visitors, they move her to a recovery site where they can help her get better. She’s isolated and alone, she gets a PCR test - she has covid - no symptoms. none. She is alone for 10-14 days. They test her again (even though the CDC doesn’t require or suggest this). she tests positive - more isolation. She says she wants to die. She hasn’t spoken in months because of the dementa. She finds the words, “I. want. to. die.“

My friend decides her mom is not dying alone. She books a flight. I pick her up at the airport. She stays on my couch. She goes to her mom’s friend’s house the next day when her mom is to be delivered after a power struggle with the facility. They tell her it’s risky she has covid, you know (for what, a month now, symptom free). My friend does not care - she wants her mom to be home with her and to not die alone. They relent and deliver her. She’s not okay, she’s not well, they weren’t taking care of her like they said. She had no one to check on her - she was in isolation remember. No loved ones to peek in and advocate for care. No one to make sure the place was doing their job. No one to make sure they washed her hair, or trimmed her nails. No ONE.

My friend finds her mom’s family tells them she’s close to the end. They come to her bedside, they sing to her, they take photographs with her, her body fails, it’s failing. She gets blessings and a going away party, family calls, and sings and celebrates with her. She accepts this is her closing time on earth. She allows her own body to shut down, organ by organ, the blood to slow and stop. She passes holding my friends hand. I pick her up the next day. We cry. She shares stories of her experience with me. She shares details and frustrations and heartbreak. we cry more.

She plans the celebration of life for her mom in the middle of a huge move and asks me to take photos. I say yes.

I sit through the service, I listen to her mom’s family share about their sister, their mother, mother in law, and more. I listen to her friend, the friend who took her into her home, cared for her day and night for years. Do you have a friend like that? Someone who will quit their job and be your caretaker? Someone you love so much you will bathe them, help them in the bathroom? everyday knowing they’re not going to get ‘better’? Do you feel how much love and compassion this friend had to quit her life and take care of her friend? I do and I cried, because honestly guys I don’t know if anyone loves me enough to let me literally die in their home. I don’t know if I’m living my life offering this to my friends, my sisters, my humans. I don’t know if that love is ever something I really reach in my lifetime. But damn, I’m gonna try. I’m gonna show up when people ask me. I’m going to advocate for their health and best possible outcomes. I’m going to say, “fuck your covid rules” my mom/friend/family deserves to die at home surrounded by loved ones, not alone. Never alone.

I’m so proud of my friend, honored to know her truly. I hope I can live up to the expectations of friendship these women have set for me. I hope her mom is at peace. I hope she knows how wonderful her daughter is and how much she cares for others. I hope all humans feel this level of compassion and love in their lifetime. I think that’s the point, that’s worth celebrating.