My Nine-Eleven

In 2002, the last time I remember seeing my husband Wern was when he made his nightly peanut butter sandwich and he passed me in the kitchen doorway smiling at me with the usual glint in his eye.

That night I woke up to Wern making "snoring" sounds, but it wasn't snoring and I ended up doing CPR at the instruction of the 911 operator. He stopped breathing and the paramedics took over on arrival and revived him enough to take him to the hospital. He died shortly after. He had had an enlarged heart.

My mother was of course devastated at first, but it wasn't long before she seemed to entirely forget that he had existed. In her dementia, her focus was on herself and how I looked after her.

Mom depended on me way too much. She kept telling me that I am her reason for living. I had my own life and responsibilities after losing my husband. Of course I would look after her until she dies, but it became a problem for my mental health.

I went away on a trip for some relief, and when I returned, she felt sorry for herself that I didn't look after her needs. I was using medication for depression, and I sometimes felt like giving up or wishing I was dead. My boss, Pastor Claude Pratte became my confidante, who prayed for me and encouraged me daily. 

I gave up expecting any empathy about my loss until one day out of the blue when she asked me if it was okay if she prayed for another husband for me. I was touched, and said "yes."

It was a stressful year in 2003 when I cleared out all of our unneeded "stuff" and sold our beautiful house on Glenwood Crescent, which had been on the river. I bought another house nearby, and hired my cousin's husband as contractor to renovate. My brother-in-law Marvin and his team looked after painting all of the rooms to my colourful imagination.

The Lord is my comforter, I shall not be in want

He makes me to lie down in my green bedroom

He leads me to soak in my new hot tub

He guides me safely on the streets of Winnipeg for his names sake

Even though I’ve walked through the funeral home

on the death of my Wern

I will fear no evil, for your church and church staff are with me

Your  spirit and son, they comfort me.

You prepare a bountiful life for me

in the presence of my anxieties

You anoint my head with oil,

my coffee cup overflows

surely goodness and love will follow me 

all the days of my life

And I will dwell at 44 Cobourg Ave for many happy years to come

It was that same year that I moved my mother to her new apartment which was a rented condo very close to our church. Once the move was complete, I thought that maybe I would have a short break from her thief stories.

The year ended well with a family trip to Hawaii. I took my mother and my children, and my sister and her husband met us there. Balm for the soul. It had been a dream of my mother's to travel to an exotic location for the very first time.

The painting featured is from a photo I took of my mother immediately after she asked me if her own mother was still alive, and I answered her with a "no."

A Reason for it All

I no longer have a CD player at home that works, so when my boss Steve Bell gave me a preview copy of his new album "The Glad Surprise," I waited to play it until I was in my car on the way to work.

Steve sang at my husband Darrell's funeral in 2023. For the recessional, at my request, his manager Dave played the song "A Reason for it All," written by Steve's dear friend Byron O'Donnell, who passed away the same year.

Steve decided to add a cover of that song on his new album, which will be out in October, 2024 called "The Glad Surprise".  I had only heard snippets of songs during the period of recording when I was at the office, so hearing it all in one shot brought me to tears.

Steve's version of "A Reason for it All" is a more upbeat rendering of Byron's beautiful words and melody, and his version is added as a bonus at the end of the album. This song alone is a great reason to purchase this album. "A Reason for it All" doesn't just comfort those who are bereaved, but encourages all who are suffering in different ways.

In my seventeen years of working at Steve's office, every new album has been a joy and a wonder, but this latest one is one heck of a glad surprise. The album focuses on the fact that every human being is different, and that Jesus loves every single one of us. Steve has a huge heart of love for everyone, including the marginalized.

I don't listen to music much anymore, since it was something I loved to do with my late husband when we would play pool together on the weekends. We would have lights twinkling and music blaring as we played. I miss those times. But this new album makes me want to listen to it over and over when I drive my car. 

Steve's music has given me back music. Now I have to buy a new CD player...

The album is now available at Stevebell.com.

Finding the Lost

My Mom was constantly losing things. I was beginning to tire of searching her apartment for lost small items, like toothpaste, laundry detergent (lost in scoopfuls), and other daily necessities. I thought that she was merely forgetful of using items, or putting them away in other places.

It was all very gradual. A lost Santa hat was one that she made quite a fuss about. She began to accuse people in her apartment building. The building supervisor was an elderly lady named Sally (name changed for privacy reasons). She had a son and daughter who lived in the same building.

Mom began to accuse Sally and her children of coming into her apartment, taking small things including food and rearranging other items so that she couldn't find them. I reasoned with her, I searched the apartment, and listened to her complain. It didn't make sense to me that someone would enter her apartment for such small incidental items.

Several of Mom's friends lived in the same building, and they were aware of the changes in my mother's thinking and attitude. They worried about her, and occasionally they would let me know of things that they noticed.

In public and at church, she seemed very normal. She volunteered to help fold and stuff bulletins for me on Fridays at church, went to quilting sessions at MCC, and was active in Bible classes and outings with her friends. She was generally happy. Especially happy of course, when she saw Dan at church. She was positive that he wanted to marry her. I was convinced by her when he and his mother passed down the exit aisle after the service, and he smiled in our direction. 

I encouraged her to write him a letter and enquire about any interest. Eventually she did this, and she received a response letter, very strongly indicating that he had no intentions toward her. At first she was disappointed, but then convinced herself that he would change his mind, and that he was still sitting in his car on the street in the evenings with his headlights on, to let her know that he was watching.

The "thefts" in her apartment gradually increased. I did all that I could to help, but nothing worked. Her accusations of the building supervisor and her family increased and became more public to the point that Sally was becoming very annoyed with my mother. Mom's friends assured Sally that it wasn't personal, and that my mother was beginning to change mentally.

Thankfully, Mom and I shared the same doctor. Heather Domke was updated by me when I attended appointments with Mom. It came to a point when the doctor recommended that Mom be tested for dementia or alzheimers.

It wasn't easy to convince Mom to be tested. I told her that it was just a memory test, and she often became agitated that I would accuse her of forgetting things. She reminded me that she had been a nurse, and still had a perfect memory. She even accused me of being more forgetful than her.

She hesitantly took the test, insisting to me as she answered the questions, that she was perfectly normal. The person testing her was very kind and helpful. As a result, Dr. Heather told me that Mom had early signs of dementia. It was a medical confirmation for me, as I had been sure that this was the direction we were taking.

Telling her siblings was another matter. Her brother Cornelius Derksen was a doctor, and when Mom was at family gatherings, he saw that she was perfectly normal and happy. I had a long meeting with him and Aunt Margaret to explain the details. It took some convincing, but they finally believed me. Mom could not remember individual names at gatherings, and she mostly smiled and sat with people.

Every year Mom took an airplane ride to see my sister June in Vancouver Washington. June noticed things about her on visits as well. Mom even thought that the people who stole things from her followed her to Washington to continue harrassing her.

Things took a bad turn after one visit to Washington that resulted in an ulcer on her ankle. Things turned badly for myself also, as my husband Wern Kliewer suddenly died. I will continue with those stories in the next blog.

The drawing shown is one page of a Salvation Army year end newsletter, where I used my Mom's image for the artwork.

Loss of My Daddy

My dear Daddy suffered his first heart attack at age 40. It resulted in a surgery for a double bypass, and I recommitted my faith in God as I prayed for his recovery. The doctors were happy with the surgery and told us it should allow him at least ten more years. Well, they were wrong. He had twenty-five! :)

His extra years weren't trouble free, however. He suffered chest pain and many migraine headaches, which severely limited his ability to work and do strenuous things. The cold Winnipeg winters were especially hard on him. For relief from the migraines, he created a pulley contraption where he put a neck brace on, and then stretched his head upwards with the pulley to help with the pain. 

When my mother retired from nursing at age sixty-five (they were both the same age), they discussed possibilities of moving to Arizona during the winters for relief from our cold winters. Sadly, it was not so happen. His condition worsened and he was scheduled immediately for a quadruple bypass surgery.

The night before the surgery, I wasn't allowed to see him, as it would upset him to say good-bye to me. My mother gave him our love. Following the surgery, Dad never came out of the anaesthetic. His blood failed to coagulate, and he "drowned" internally.

My sister June had flown in to Winnipeg to be there when he woke up, but instead we ended up planning a funeral.

Helen Goertzen lost the love of her life, just as she had retired. She and John had never been able to afford to buy a house in Winnipeg. June and I set to work with garage sales to clear out her rented home and help her to move to an apartment. Luckily, we found one that was just a couple of blocks from our church, so that she could walk there on Sundays.

John had always been her driver, and she never needed to learn to drive. After her move, I became her driver for weekly grocery trips, doctors appointments and lunches at restaurants. For the first year I called her on the phone every day to make sure she was alright.

The devastating loss of my father and her new isolation in her own apartment was the beginning of the end for my mom. Her dementia happened so very gradually, things changed and my mother was never the same.

The first hint came when she fell in love again. There was a single man in our church named Dan. He had never married, and my mother focussed all of her attention on him when she went to church. Her third floor apartment was on the corner of the building overlooking the street, and she had a view of the cars that parked in front of the new homes being built there. She would watch particularly for one car that parked regularly on the street with the headlights on. She was positive that it was Dan, sitting in the car and watching her window.

She talked a lot about him sitting in his car watching her, and I found it difficult to believe, but she insisted.

The second hint was her belief that someone was stealing things from her apartment, which I will talk about in the next blog.

My Parents Romance

 My Dad fell in love with my Mom at first sight. His sister Tina, who was training as a nurse in Kingston Ontario, brought her friend Helen home for the weekend. John saw her descending the stairs in his parents home, and she was wearing a pink sweater that she had knitted herself.

When he saw her, John thought to himself, "That is the girl I want to marry." So during her training, he got up the nerve to write her a letter saying, "To make a long story short, I love you and will you marry me? Can we start dating soon?"

Their first date was Valentine's Day, and they were engaged a month later. Helen took John home to Alexander, Manitoba to meet her parents and for him to ask permission to marry their daughter.

Henry Derksen took an instant dislike to John. He didn't want him to take away his daughter, and he definitely didn't like his wavy red hair. However, Helen ended up threatening to elope, and that solved the issue. They married a year later in 1951 at the Alexander United Church with a reception to follow in the machine shed on the farm.

John and Helen Goertzen began their life together in Grimsby, Ontario with John working at the local Grimsby Garage in the parts department, and Helen as a nurse at the Lincoln Memorial Hospital. Their two daughters, June and Faye rounded out the family in the following years.

In 1966, the family moved to Winnipeg to be closer to Helen's family. She had many supportive brothers and sisters, and the girls had many cousins to become friends with. However, John's relationship with his father-in-law remained tense for many years.

Henry was gradually won over to become friends with John following the death of grandmother Anna, and when Henry visited, he and John played checkers together. I believe checkers was the clincher.

I was at Red River College taking the Advertising Art course, and one of my assignments was to always be sketching. This sketch of my Dad and Opa playing checkers together is one of my favourite memories.

Turning into My Mother

 I have officially turned into my mother -  an old lady wearing a tie-on rain cap. Well, the cap is very practical after all! I always promised myself that I wouldn't end up like my mother, but am beginning to see the changes....

I am okay with getting old, but have always had a deep-seated fear of getting the same dementia that she had. It began after she turned sixty-five, having retired from nursing and then my Dad died a few months later following a quadruple bypass surgery. She was never the same after that.

My Dad always drove her to work, since having a heart condition, it was one thing that he could still do for her. So once he was gone, I became her wheels. We had to move her out of her rental home and into an apartment which was thankfully close to our church, so she could walk there.

What is dementia? 

Alzheimers is the well-known disease that older adults face nowadays. It isn't surprising at all, since it gets most of the attention. Dementia on the other hand, has more "fuzzy" meanings, as it means different things to different people. The difference between the two diseases is not clear.

In my mother's case, it began with depression following the death of my beloved father in 1989. Her more prevalent symptoms were short-term memory issues, difficulty choosing words, confusion, trouble following conversations, viewing entertainment, losing sense of direction and getting lost, and trouble managing medications and finances.

Delirium is related to dementia as well. It is a condition that effects the brain, but in my mother, the symptoms were hallucinations, fear, anxiety, confusion and paranoia.

To aid my own fear of dementia, I keep my mind active with daily sudoku puzzles, reading, working part-time and keeping as active as possible. The sudoku puzzle is a a quick way to remind me that I can still use my brain to reason out the answers and it makes me feel better.

My mom always denied having anything wrong with her memory. She even accused me of being more forgetful than herself. I had to learn to not constantly correct her, effecting her self-worth. My best solution was to always change the subject to something more positive.

Next blog: My Parents Love Story

The painting is one of the first ones I did for her as a gift. She didn't care for it because it made her look old, and she kept it hidden in a drawer.

 “When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, 'It is finished,' and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit” (John 19:30) 

In my lifetime, I have been present as two of my loved ones passed away from this life. My kind and sweet mother-in-law Margarete Kliewer, and most recently, my beloved husband, Darrell Hall.

When both died, their eyes were lifted up as if they could see something beyond what we could see. I thought of this again as John 19:30 was quoted in my church's Good Friday service.

As a person who believes in heaven, I know in my heart that both Margarete and Darrell saw Jesus' face when they moved into the afterlife. It was a privilege to witness their passing.

I look forward to this for myself one day.