If someone asked me what the most difficult time of my life was, I would have to say that it would be a difficult question to answer. Why? Honestly, I have had many difficult experiences over the course of my lifetime. I am seventy-three years old, and most of my life is spent behind me rather than in front of me. Like everyone else who has lived as long as I have, my life has had many ups and downs.

I believe the most difficult years I experienced in my life were 1986 and 1987. This is how it began. In 1986, my husband and I moved back to New Jersey. He had just graduated from Brooks Institute, a photography school in Montecito, California. We stayed with my parents for a short time. I then purchased a small house in Pennsauken, about fifteen minutes from my parent’s house. Bob had served in the military to secure a home mortgage without a down payment. By that time, he had found and been hired for a full-time position in the Philadelphia area.

I had long anticipated a time when we would be able to start a family. We were married for seven years before I had any children. In 1981, I tested positive on a pregnancy test, and nine months later, I gave birth to my first child, whom we named Jeanette after my eldest sister, who had passed away from emphysema. My mother and father were happy for us. Three years later, I had my second child. Our family was complete.

I visited my parents often since I only lived a short distance from Maple Shade, where my parents lived and where I grew up. One day, I drove with my children to my parent’s house to visit them. As I was sitting at the kitchen table, my father, who was retired by this time, called out to me. He was in the hallway outside of the bathroom. When I got to the hallway, my father indicated wanting me to look in the toilet. I looked at it was filled with blood. My father had a stroke several years before this, and he was aphasic, and it was difficult for him to speak and make himself understood. 

I contacted my siblings and informed them about my father’s health issue. I was the only one who was not working at the time since I had two young children at home, and all my other siblings were working at that time. I made an appointment with his primary physician for my father, who then referred him to a specialist. After the specialist examined my father and had xrays taken, he determined that my father had lung cancer and it was advanced. And there wasn’t any treatment available for him.

The next several months were difficult. My father’s cancer advanced and worsened over the next several months. It became clear that he wasn’t going to survive much longer. My father had been smoking two packs of cigarettes a week for many years.

My mother would then be alone. My father had given me power of attorney, so I was responsible for my parents paying the rent and all expenses. I spoke to my siblings and asked if they would all be able to take turns coming to my parent’s house at night during my father’s illness. And they agreed to do so.

I won’t lie, this time of my father’s illness was one of if not the worst experiences of my life up to that point. And it was clear that my mother was broken-hearted as well. She had been married to my father since she was nineteen years old. They did not have a perfect marriage. But they certainly loved one another and had a strong bond. And they had six children together. I can only imagine how frightened my mother was at that time. My mother had glaucoma, limited vision, and heart failure.

It wasn’t long after that my father started to refuse to eat or take all his medication. He coughed and coughed all night. And my dear mother was unable to sleep. She said the rosary all night, hoping that my father would be delivered from his pain. I made every attempt to hire a night nurse to help take off my father since it was getting more and more difficult to take care of him. He was refusing food and his medication, and he kept falling out of his bed. Eventually, I ordered a bed with sidebars to keep him from falling out. And it was difficult to get him up when he fell. He was a big man. Finally, I secured a night nurse to assist with my father’s care. My siblings and I began to take turns staying overnight at my parent’s house. So, my mother would not be alone with my father if sometihing unttoward happened at night. It was difficult for all of us since we were all married and had young children at home.

We began keeping track of the liquids and solids my father took in because of his diabetes. My sister Karen gave my father his insulin shots. In general, nights were the most difficult since neither of my parents could sleep during the night. My father began having a difficult time breathing at night and had to be checked often during the night.

The following day, my dear father passed away. It was a big loss for us all, but my father had suffered long enough. My dear mother was heartbroken, to say the least. I can not express the depth of my sense of loss when my father passed away. Not just myself but all my siblings and, of course, my dear mother, who had been married to my father since she was nineteen.

My mother could not live alone, and I felt she would feel most at ease in her own house since she was blind. I decided the best resolution was to hire someone to come and stay with her during the week. And she could cook and clean the house and keep my dear mother safe. I advertised and received several responses, and after interviewing several people, I hired a middle-aged woman named Doris Cook. She was a kind and caring person, and my mother felt comfortable and safe with her. She stayed at my mother’s house during the week. And then went home for the weekend. My siblings and I took turns having our mother stay at their houses on weekends.

My mother was depressed by the loss of her husband but managed to maintain her equilibrium for the most part. My mother suffered a heart attack and complete respiritory arrest about ten months after my father passed. It was a very difficult time for myself and the entire family. I can not express the loss I felt after losing both of my parents. My father passed in Oct. of 1986, and my dear mother passed in August of 1987. I still miss them to this day. The loss of one’s parents is a big loss and difficult to move forward from. My children never had the opportunity to get to know them since they were so young when my parents passed.

Life is so difficult at times, and you may believe you will never get over the losses you suffer. But somehow, you do. There are no other alternatives. I had to keep moving forward because I had two young children to care for, and I knew my mother and father would not want me to do otherwise. There are many challenges in life, and you have no alternatives but to overcome them.