Tom and Sharon Jensen

The best-laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Robert Burns'

A family needs help filling the gap to fulfill a mother’s last wishes.

Nearly seven years ago, my father called me with my mother to tell me she took a test following a lingering cough and was diagnosed with Stage III lung cancer. Before the dreadful news, I informed my parents that my entire family was selling everything, moving to Poland, and living there while my husband went to school to switch careers. The choice was rough, but I knew that I had a responsibility to take care of my children, which had to be put above the deep desire to stay and be with my mom. I wondered if the last time I would see her was the day we left. Thankfully, she beat the statistics and lived past the typical prognosis. She fought hard, underwent chemo, and had initial success with a trial treatment. Her cancer had been all but cured.

The trial treatment wound up causing life-altering setbacks due to severe vasculitis, a rare side effect the medication can have. She underwent a bowel resection and amputation of fingers on her left hand that became necrotic. She began requiring rehab stays at skilled nursing facilities to help her recover from the vasculitis and the subsequent surgery to remove the damaged fingers.

Throughout the entire endeavor, her husband stayed strong by her side. His greatest desire was to care for his wife. He went to extreme lengths to accomplish this goal after being a heart transplant recipient, suffering from Parkinson’s Disease, and completing self-guided therapy to come back from a stroke.

Temporary relief came in being able to meet the needs of my mother. Things truly began to change around six months ago when my dad fell. He was forced to seek rehab outside the house, meaning he could not take care of my mother until he was better and back home. Unfortunately, a new wound on his leg worsened in the last three months. Osteomyelitis was the result, and he eventually required an above-knee amputation. He fought hard through two separate bouts of sepsis with the ever-present goal of returning to his role as primary caregiver for his wife, my mother. He never made it to that goal as he further deteriorated around six weeks ago.

The failing health of both of my parents made it necessary to retrieve them from their respective locations in Florida and move them into my home in Ohio. Just a day before leaving for Ohio, my husband and I took my mother to a long overdue oncology appointment. The world began to shift from that moment as she was referred to Hospice, which meant she had approximately six months left to live. We refrained from conveying the information to my father as he was so frail I did not want to jeopardize helping him get better.

With the help of many family members, including my husband, my mother’s twin sister, her wonderful nieces, kind great-nephews, her brother and sister-in-law, and the support of many friends and extended family, my parent’s belongings were packed into a moving vehicle.

The objective of the entire move was to enable my parents to be close enough to have our help but still maintain their independence by helping them have their residence nearby. Two days later, my husband, myself, my aunt, my mom, and my dad were all at my home in Ohio. The trip was extremely challenging despite being skilled in caring for both of them. Unfortunately, the day after they arrived, my dad lost his fight and passed away in the emergency department where myself and my husband work.

We were devastated and made an effort to get all affairs in order. Unfortunately, things were worse than anyone knew, but it soon got even more devastating. My mom began to show signs of a UTI and soon went into septic shock. She did not want to be falsely kept alive, so we allowed her the ability to fight off the infection. The infection, however, was too much for her body. She had been through enough. As I was awoken by my aunt about the screaming of alarms, the machines suddenly fell silent, and I held my mother’s hand as she drew her last breath. She passed even more abruptly just a month after my dad passed—the hopes of one final Christmas with them shattered before my eyes. My children suddenly seem more grown than ever, and my heart is broken.

My parents were smart, but their medical conditions caused them to change their estates. Moving them to Ohio was meant to provide care under the expectation that they would be alive for longer. For this reason, we are not in a position to cover the cost of burial for either mom and dad. They desired to be buried together in Florida, but they did not have pre-arrangements or insurance in place. Now, I am facing my first Christmas without them both, and the only thing I want more than to have them both back here is the ability to lay them to rest. I am timid about asking for help, but I am afraid that the timing is what it is. So, even the consideration of helping is greatly appreciated. Time is a commodity that cannot be replaced.