There is a time to every purpose

Normally, Vic and I write about local environmental happenings. And

we try to keep you informed of things that are going on regionally as

well.

But this is not a normal time, and things are not as usual.

My mother, Lucile Wilson, died last Thursday, four weeks after I

brought her to the emergency room at Huntington Memorial Hospital.

The problem seemed simple. She had a bad rash on one side of her face

and had severe facial pain.

The problem was not life-threatening. However, her underlying

heart and lung conditions, coupled with having lived 94 years, were

too much.

During this time of intense grief, our friends and family have

kept us going. relying on a healthy sense of humor and finding levity

in situations have been essential. For example, our visit to the

emergency room started with a naked man being pursued through the

waiting area by police. The only people not in handcuffs in the

treatment area were my mom, a young man with severely infected spider

bites on his fanny -- which he showed to everyone -- and a

mentally-challenged person who had a pizza delivered to the ER.

We’re not sure how much time you spend in emergency rooms, but the

Leipzigs are “frequent flyers.” We joke that the fire department puts

extra paramedics on duty whenever there is going to be a gathering of

the large Leipzig family.

Vic’s dad broke his ankle two days before his 50th wedding

anniversary party, so his parents renewed their vows in the hospital

room. Other ER visits have involved injuries ranging from a broken

hand to a scalp wound that required 27 stitches to a severely

sprained knee to ophthalmic emergencies.

The last time we visited Vic’s parents, I didn’t bat an eye when

Vic said we needed to go to the hospital. A visit to the ER is not a

surprise there; it’s expected. That time, Vic’s dad cut his finger

while trimming hedges. Since he was on blood thinners, it could have

been serious, but stitches fixed it.

The Leipzig curse has apparently extended to my family, because we

had to take my mom to the ER in St. Petersburg, Fla., nine years ago

when she fell while dancing on her 85th birthday and shattered her

femur. Vic joked that really good parties don’t end until the

paramedics arrive.

Mom’s doctor said she’d never walk again, at least not without a

walker, but he didn’t know my mom. She was out of bed the next day,

had discarded her walker within six weeks and was ballroom dancing

six months later. The dancing ended when her companion of 27 years

died a year or so later.

Mom moved to Huntington Beach to be closer to me. Since both of my

boys live on the West Coast, it made seeing her “western”

grandchildren and the great-grandchildren easier.

But when company comes, people get excited and accidents happen.

She fell and sustained a minor fracture below her knee during one of

their visits. Finally, with failing vision, hearing, agility and

mobility, this diminutive person of great energy began to slow down.

At least physically.

She had retired from her long career as a legal secretary. She had

researched and published a genealogical book of family history in

1987, so she was finished with that hobby.

When dancing and sewing her own fancy clothes were no longer

possible, she got a computer. She e-mailed right up until the day she

went to the hospital.

She also took up writing poetry. She joined the Professional

Writers League of Long Beach and won a couple of poetry contests.

At the age of 90, she handcrafted several books of her poetry, one

for each of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. She

cut out magazine pictures to illustrate the books, using her

typewriter to create her own form of unique graphics. With ribbon,

yarn and crayon, she decorated each book.

The staff at Kinko’s helped her photocopy the pages and even came

to her apartment for pickup and delivery during the various stages of

book production.

With her unsurpassable will and energy, it seemed to my brother

and me that she would go on forever. But of course, that isn’t

possible.

The infectious diseases doctor at the hospital diagnosed her with

Ramsay Hunt Syndrome, a fairly rare form of facial shingles. It

caused severe pain and partial facial paralysis, neither of which was

likely to get better.

That, coupled with a deteriorating body and a mind that wasn’t as

sharp as it once had been, caused Mom to decide that enough was

enough. She refused food and pills. She was ready to leave us.

As difficult as it was, my job was to make sure that Mom’s desires

were honored. I got her released to hospice care at Huntington Valley

Healthcare. The quality of nursing attention she received was truly

outstanding. I can’t say enough good things about the many nurses and

respiratory therapists who cared for her this past month.

On her last good day, she read a letter from one of her

granddaughters and looked at family photos, but she was no longer

able to speak.

The next day, she woke up long enough to acknowledge our presence,

then slipped into a deep sleep from which she never awakened.

Losing a mother isn’t easy. I’ll miss her.

* VIC LEIPZIG and LOU MURRAY are Huntington Beach residents and

environmentalists. They can be reached at [email protected].

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