I returned from Calgary on Friday and I’m still processing the myriad of emotions from burying my mother.
Mom took a turn for the worst shortly after Christmas and we were sure it was time. She spent several weeks in the hospital as my family started planning her funeral. I stressed about immigration. My passport and green card expired in March. Should I roll the dice and send everything in to be renewed, praying she didn’t pass away and I wouldn’t be able to get home? Or should I delay the renewal until March and run the risk of letting everything expire? I ended up rolling the dice and submitting everything in January…which turned out to be a big stress because my passport application got returned, along with a myriad of other problems.
Mom has been on the cusp of needing to go in a care facility for a few years now but my Dad has somehow continued with her care with the help of daily visits from Alberta Health. The week prior to my mom’s passing, he took a mental health vacation to Mexico. My mom has been vehemently opposed to being left in a care facility for fear that she would never come home again. Fortunately, my brother and his family have been living with my parents so they were able to watch her at night while women in our ward stayed with her during the day.
Her Passing
When my mom returned home from the hospital a few months ago, she had bounced back and though she still had a poor quality of life, she was in a much better place. She attended family dinners (including Easter where they rolled her wheelchair to roll Easter eggs down the hill) and was happier than she had been in a while.
The night before my dad left for his early-morning flight to Mexico, she told him, “I’m not even going to have a chance to say good-bye to you.” My dad interpreted that to mean saying their farewells the next morning but maybe it went deeper than that.
The week she spent with my brother’s family was the best she had in a long time. She had some semblance of her former self and was in good humor. When Jamie and I were saying good-bye to her at Christmas, we saw a glimpse of her former spunk when she reacted incredulously to our 6 a.m. flight. It was good to hear her laugh again.
She was also manic at times the last week of her life. My brother and his wife Jennifer would hear her rummaging through the kitchen at all hours. On Saturday, she fell–hard–and her glasses cut her face. They rushed her to the hospital for her to get stitches and did an MRI because she hit her head. Nothing showed up and amazingly, she was still in good humor. “I can’t figure out why I have such a bad headache,” she said in the hospital. Maybe because you slammed the floor, hard!
Jen and Jade took away her walker when she wasn’t supervised because they were worried she would have another bad fall. On her last night on earth, my brother Jade woke up at midnight to her cooking toast in the kitchen. He was frustrated and tired. Jade has had poor health for months as he has battled kidney stones, failed surgeries and other major hardships. He patiently waited for her to finish and he was granted a sacred moment with her.
“I want to go home,” she quietly told him.
She has said this a few times the last several months, which my family interpreted to mean she was confused with where she was. “You are home,” my sister-in-law, Jane told her. But slowly it started to sink in. “OK, Christine. You can go home.” After years of fearing death despite her hellish condition, she was ready to go home.
My mom started to have trouble breathing that final night and Jade debated taking her back to the hospital but when he went to check on her around 2 a.m., she had fallen asleep in her beloved chair. Four hours later on April 30, 2019, Jen went to check on her and realized she had passed. Or rather, Jen was “99% sure” she had passed away. She frantically called my brothers. Pat called me at 7:05 a.m. with the news. Dad was flying home from Mexico that day he eventually got the message to call home. After years of taking care of her, he was spared the horror of being the one who found her, calling the funeral home, and seeing her taken away. It was a tender mercy for her to pass away at home, in her chair.
The Dressing and Viewing
In The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, our view of death is an eternal one. We believe we lived as spirits in a pre-mortal existence with God (but that we have always existed as Intelligences). That we came to earth where our spirits gained a mortal body where we grow in wisdom and faith. When we die, we are reunited with loved ones in a world of light: the spirit world, where we await judgment and resurrection through Jesus Christ. (Learn more about the Plan of Salvation, Great Plan of Happiness here).
My mom didn’t want a large funeral. Her final requests were for a simple graveside service with a closed casket at the Okotoks Cemetery. I flew in a day before Jamie and the kids so I could go to Pierson’s Funeral Home with my Aunt Sue, sister-in-laws Jane and Jennifer, and nieces, Ashton and Emily. Our purpose? To dress my mom’s mortal body. Mike Pierson walked us through the process and we began with a prayer prior to entering the Rose Room (which I thought was the perfect location because of her love of roses).
Seeing her for the first time was a beautiful experience. She had sustained a large bruise and stitches on her face from her fall a few days prior to her death but she looked at peace. Mike assisted Jane and me in dressing her in her temple dress and clothing. Her skin was cold and hard, yet smooth. My nieces did her hair and make-up to look like the beauty she always was. “She is not here,” the spirit kept whispering. She was free. We placed her in the beautiful pink! coffin. Attending to her–as she always attended to me–was a final act of service.
That evening, we had a viewing for family and close friends. Many traveled to honor her and it was a close-knit, memorable night as stories and tears were shed. My mom’s best friend, Brenda, passed away when I was 12. Her daughter, Stacey, attended the viewing and the grief of losing her mom resurfaced and she struggled to leave my mom’s side. It made me think about her loss..and mine. I was about 13 when Mom was diagnosed with MS. Her journey has been a long, difficult and painful one but unlike Stacey’s mom, she was still here. As it came time to leave, we gathered around her coffin. I kissed her for the last time, softly placed her veil on her head and covered her face. The last, hardest good-bye.
The Graveside Service
On Friday, we met at the Willow Park Chapel to caravan to the Okotoks Cemetery. I was touched by the outpouring of friends and family on that cloudy morning. I hopped in the back of my Aunt Sue’s van with Jamie and Bode for the 30-minute drive. We were part of the caravan…until we weren’t. Jamie and Sue had assumed the cemetery would be outside of town so missed the turnoff. We finally pulled over to Google map the route and turned back.
Then, the phone rang; it was my brother Jade wondering where we were. “At least it was the nice brother,” Sue joked, but then the “not-nice” brother Pat came on the phone to not-so-nicely guide us back to the cemetery.
When we arrived 15 minutes late, everyone was already seated but with two pallbearers (Jamie and Bode) and the eulogist (me), we figured they couldn’t start without us. I wish I had time to regain my composure from being late but immediately, the pallbearers carried the coffin to the graveside before I was able to process what was happening.
The service was short. The bishop shared some remarks and then it was my turn to give the eulogy. I was worried I wouldn’t be able to hold it together but the previous day’s dressing and viewing were my good-bye; this eulogy was about sharing funny stories and touching tributes about my mom (I will post it separately).
Then, we had Open Mic. My dad shared the story of winning a vacation to Hawaii when I was 5. My dad was out snorkeling waaaaaay past the reef when he heard my mom yell at him from across the waves, “Stan, get back in here. You’re going to die and ruin everyone’s vacation.” Always thinking of others. 
Aunt Sue shared stories of my dad’s devotion and losing her sister. Pat shared a story that he was out playing street hockey with his friends and Mom threatened him to come rest and get cleaned up before his hockey game, saying he would be too exhausted to play that night. They made a bet that she’d pay him $100 if he scored two goals…he went on to score three and she gave him a $100 bill after the game. For Jade, he had the special experience of being the final one to be with my mom and he shared her story of wanting to go home.
Granddaughter Ashton shared some of her fun Grandma Christine stories and the true showstopper was my nephew Jaxson. We all held our breath as he walked to the pulpit because he’s often king of the inappropriate but my gosh, he gave the most beautiful tribute to his grandma. Mom’s cousin Lynn Wilde gave a spiritual message, longtime family friend Colleen Low led us in song with”God Be With You ‘Til We Meet Again,” Jade dedicated the grave and Jane gave a beautiful prayer of farewell.
It was perfect.
Our family’s tradition of going out for Chinese food was rooted in Southern Alberta years ago when we would drive into Lethbridge and the Chinese restauranteurs would declare, “The Wildes are here again.” It is one of our favorite traditions and my dad generously took everyone in attendance out for Chinese food. It was the perfect way to honor her–with stories, laughter and ginger beef.
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As we raced in late to the graveside service, several people told me I was my Frenzied Mom Incarnate. When I gave the eulogy, I shared the story of when my mom was late (as usual) for a class at BYU. Her instructor required latecomers to announce their last and first name and so she hurriedly shouted in the quiet room:
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 