What Even Is Time?
The past 2+ years
In the days following my* mom’s death my godmother, Laila, said to me, “You should write this all down.” So here I am writing out the timeline of the last two plus years as I remember it. This is more for my benefit than anyone elses. I want to be able to look back and remember when these things happened. Right now it feels like I will remember this always always always but…memory doesn’t always work like that. I expect my broken heart will block some of this out in the process of healing.
Buckle up because things got very real very quickly for both of my parents.
December 2018: Eller-Isaacs family gathers in Nehalem, OR for Christmas. My dad and I go pick up Pok Pok (RIP) and we talk about Tim and I moving to Oregon. I tell him that I don’t want to live far away from him and mom. He corrects my grammar. We both cry. It’s a pretty standard conversation for us.
January/February 2019: I apply to jobs at both the UUMA and a small fellowship in Portland, OR.
May 2019: I get both jobs
August 2019: Tim and I move to Portland.
September 2019: I get pregnant with Levi and am almost immediately sick all the time.
February - July 2020: We start hearing about a deadly virus. COVID shuts the world down. I finally start feeling better just in time to not be able to leave the house. Levi is born July 10. Both my parents are here for the birth but not allowed in the hospital. I called my mom in the middle of the night to ask if it was okay if I got an epidural. She said no. I got one anyway. At some point in here Unity has asked my parents to stay another year. I was happy for them because it would mean that COVID would be over and we could bring the baby and say goodbye to Minnesota. HA.FREAKING.HA. Life goes on. They visit more than they were supposed to. They spend time with Levi and make decisions about their new house. Tim and I try to be first time parents without regular support. Yikes. Jump to 2021…
June 2021: My parents say goodbye to Unity and St. Paul. My dad is already starting to not feel very well but we all assumed it was psycho symptomatic. His body processing the grief of retirement. They arrive in Portland and we are all excited to get to the business of family time. All the Eller-Isaacs were living in the same place for the first time since 1997.
October -December 2021: My dad has a hernia surgery. Doesn’t help him feel better.
February - April 2022: While I was in San Diego at the Institute my dad met with his new doctors. They weren’t sure what was going on at first and eventually he was given a diagnosis of bile duct cancer. He was given a year and told to start Chemo. When they got a second opinion at OHSU they discovered it was actually pancreatic cancer. He starts Chemo and continues to loose weight very quickly. The visits from friends and caregivers start.
April - May 2022: Our mom begins experiencing changes to her taste and smell. Maybe it’s COVID? It’s not. Major tumor in her sinuses. No big deal they can take it out. Or actually it is mucosal melanoma but still they can take it out. Wait, no probably not. It would take 1/4 of her face to remove it entirely. Best course of action is to start immunotherapy which may not work because she had none of the genetic markers and mucosal melanoma is not very responsive to treatment.
June 2022: The first day of Ministry Days my mom begins immunotherapy. Her side effects are minor which is good because she is still caring for my dad and getting him to eat is a major battle every single day. Both of our parents get COVID after GA. Dad doesn’t get very sick. Mom gets a bad, bad cough. Shockingly (sarcasm) she doesn’t really slow down.
July 2022: Levi turns two. We all gather to celebrate. My dad rises to the occasion and really participates. Levi has been pretty tentative around my dad but lets him hold him and they have a very sweet moment together. My aunt and uncle come to visit and are going to take my dad to his next infusion which was supposed to be on a Monday. He gets turn away and sent to the Emergency Room. I meet him there. He is confused and we find out that his sodium is 116 - low as it turns out but not as low as I will ever see — we’ll get to that later. He meets with doctors and my siblings and I take shifts being with him. I learned that day to always, always bring snacks, a water bottle, warmer clothes, and a phone charger to the hospital. You never ever know how long it will take. I pack a hospital go back and keep it stocked. We started that week with the possibility of continuing treatment, of doing a procedure to open up a duct and to ease his discomfort but as his sodium continued to fluctuate it became clear to his doctors that sending him home was the best way to bring him comfort. The few days he was in the hospital my mom couldn’t see him because she was still recovering from COVID. The one voicemail I have saved from my dad is him calling her to say goodnight. During his time in the hospital he was moving in and out of consciousness. In and out of reality and dreams. Old friends were starting to come and visit him. The problem was they had all been dead for a long time. It was time to bring him home. My dad entered hospice and came home. My dad rallied. He was sitting up and talking. Each of us had time with him and the hospice nurse was talking weeks — we knew it wouldn’t be that long. We gathered for one last family dinner all of us together. He kissed all his grandkids. Told us all he loved us. As colleagues, friends, family and parishioners gathered in prayer and spiritual practice all around the world our dad died.
Oof. Okay there is so much more ground to cover but there will need to be a part 2.
*I refer to my mom/our mom interchangeably. Please know that I know that I have siblings and that she isn’t just my mom. My siblings are their own people and have their own relationships with our parents. Their memories of the past two years may be different than mine and that’s okay.