This was in an email I wrote in late January 2007.
Life is amazing how we sort, remember and want
we choice to forget. Over six years later the disease
dealt its finial blow.
John has his problems relating in conversations and
it shows up more when we are with other people than
around family. Yesterday we had breakfast with our
house builder and wife. Mike and Judy understand the
situation but it was very confirming to me that I must
pursue some diagnosis of his mental health. Last
night the kids were over for dinner and Shuchi
suggests that John get some meds to stop future
deterioration as we in the family are use to his
manner. They must have talked about it because Ken
called to suggest that I go up to the University
Hospital for the work up. I find that his logic is
off---we go for an overnighter to Portland and he gets
$700 from the bank!!,,,I ask him to get something at
the store at 4 o'clock for me to fix for dinner, he
gets soup bones!! His ability to follow conversations
is becoming limited so he keeps asking questions, very
SIMPLE questions. Short term memory is suffering a
lot. I am still of the mind that we all live one day
at a time, so this has not been overwhelming to me but
do figure it is time to see if meds are out there.
Friday, June 28, 2013
Sunday, May 19, 2013
thoughts on John
I reread my first entry to this blog and how it got it's name. I smiled with the thought that I had forgotten those days and yet, how immediately, I recalled those days and those walks. John and Daisy are both gone. I must figure out how to end this blog soon.
John's Memorial was last Friday in Saint Joseph Church on the St. Norbert College Campus in De Pere, Wisconsin. John's ties to that campus were strong, he attended high school and college there. The family lived nearby. The priest that celebrated Mass has known John and his family for all his adult life of 84 years. John's nephew gave an simple warm eulogy. The family, social friends, ex girl friends, sailing buddies, business associates, they all came to say the same thing about John. John was fun. Such a short word to describe someone but the one word -fun- was used the most. Let me add a couple more words.
My first personal conversation with John took place in my bookstore on Washington St. My brief second marriage to Ken McKenna has ended tragically with cancerous death of my husband after only a couple years of partnership. I was only 33 and grief stricken. It would be fair to say along with the Packer coach or the Mayor, John was well-known local person. I know John as an old friend of my husband's but he was no book buyer, to my knowledge. As he asked about a sailing book we walked to the back of my store. For a moment, I felt John was struggling to make small talk and then he said, "If you are ever in need of help, let me know, Ken was a friend of mine and I will help you". I smiled at his sweetness but assured John, I was fine. He then suggested that I always stock that book on sailing knots as he was going to send all his sailing friends in to buy copies.
John was fun, handsome and kind. He was known as a confirmed bachelor with perhaps too many lady friends and a son of an Irish mother that preferred him single. There were many Murphys in town but his branch were known as business founders for three generations and the rich ones- the poor Murphys always made note of that. As a later member of the Murphy clan, I would suggestion there was more of a middle ground between the clans, that a valley.
In August of 1979 at my rented cottage in Door County, John and I married in front on our immediate family with a judge presence. The most precious gift John ever gave me in our 35 years together was my engagement ring not because of the beauty or size of the diamond but for another reason. All during our dating, family and friends were concerned that my heart will be broken again because John was not the marrying kind. I recall many conversations with well meaning people I was wasting my time dating John Gallagher Murphy. That ring made a public statement to all, this lady friend of John's was different and 'he is giddy and in love' as someone described it last Friday.
I have always viewed us as two old souls reuniting.
Another characteristic of John's was loyalty. Within a couple years of settling into married life together a younger sister of mine became pregnant as a college student. Mary was very dear to me and John agreed that she should live with us during this time until she gave the baby up for adoption. It was still a time when proper society found it more convenient to board these family members in far off cities and speak in whispers about matters of this nature.
After long winter months, on a warm May week-end, the kids, Mary and John and I went to check on the sailboat in Door County. As we parked the car, John said, "Come let's see if the boat is tied up right and on eat our lunch on the boat." I asked him if he was sure that he wanted all of this crowd to know of our houseguest and we could go straight to the cottage. "Oh, there is no one on this dock or this village that is more important than Mary. Get out of the car." Loyalty was part of his nature and Mary was under the protective umbrella of John's that spring. I loved him so much more after than day.
As a student in high school, a nun told the story of St. Thomas Aquinas, the 13th century theologian. How Aquinas was canonized as saint but at the dining table there was a circle cut out for him to sit there because he was so fat. Maybe the sin of gluttony was also part of his personality. I always viewed that tale as hopeful because as we all go on the trail of sainthood we have our issues to work on. It was no secret that John enjoyed his drink. There were times maybe a little too much. On the long walk toward sainthood each of us has master some of virtues but have more to perfect.
Helen Keller said, 'What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us'. She also said, 'we don't learn the most from seeing or touching but from what we feel. We learn the most from our heart.'
How true that is, in my case.
John touched my heart.
John's Memorial was last Friday in Saint Joseph Church on the St. Norbert College Campus in De Pere, Wisconsin. John's ties to that campus were strong, he attended high school and college there. The family lived nearby. The priest that celebrated Mass has known John and his family for all his adult life of 84 years. John's nephew gave an simple warm eulogy. The family, social friends, ex girl friends, sailing buddies, business associates, they all came to say the same thing about John. John was fun. Such a short word to describe someone but the one word -fun- was used the most. Let me add a couple more words.
My first personal conversation with John took place in my bookstore on Washington St. My brief second marriage to Ken McKenna has ended tragically with cancerous death of my husband after only a couple years of partnership. I was only 33 and grief stricken. It would be fair to say along with the Packer coach or the Mayor, John was well-known local person. I know John as an old friend of my husband's but he was no book buyer, to my knowledge. As he asked about a sailing book we walked to the back of my store. For a moment, I felt John was struggling to make small talk and then he said, "If you are ever in need of help, let me know, Ken was a friend of mine and I will help you". I smiled at his sweetness but assured John, I was fine. He then suggested that I always stock that book on sailing knots as he was going to send all his sailing friends in to buy copies.
John was fun, handsome and kind. He was known as a confirmed bachelor with perhaps too many lady friends and a son of an Irish mother that preferred him single. There were many Murphys in town but his branch were known as business founders for three generations and the rich ones- the poor Murphys always made note of that. As a later member of the Murphy clan, I would suggestion there was more of a middle ground between the clans, that a valley.
In August of 1979 at my rented cottage in Door County, John and I married in front on our immediate family with a judge presence. The most precious gift John ever gave me in our 35 years together was my engagement ring not because of the beauty or size of the diamond but for another reason. All during our dating, family and friends were concerned that my heart will be broken again because John was not the marrying kind. I recall many conversations with well meaning people I was wasting my time dating John Gallagher Murphy. That ring made a public statement to all, this lady friend of John's was different and 'he is giddy and in love' as someone described it last Friday.
I have always viewed us as two old souls reuniting.
Another characteristic of John's was loyalty. Within a couple years of settling into married life together a younger sister of mine became pregnant as a college student. Mary was very dear to me and John agreed that she should live with us during this time until she gave the baby up for adoption. It was still a time when proper society found it more convenient to board these family members in far off cities and speak in whispers about matters of this nature.
After long winter months, on a warm May week-end, the kids, Mary and John and I went to check on the sailboat in Door County. As we parked the car, John said, "Come let's see if the boat is tied up right and on eat our lunch on the boat." I asked him if he was sure that he wanted all of this crowd to know of our houseguest and we could go straight to the cottage. "Oh, there is no one on this dock or this village that is more important than Mary. Get out of the car." Loyalty was part of his nature and Mary was under the protective umbrella of John's that spring. I loved him so much more after than day.
As a student in high school, a nun told the story of St. Thomas Aquinas, the 13th century theologian. How Aquinas was canonized as saint but at the dining table there was a circle cut out for him to sit there because he was so fat. Maybe the sin of gluttony was also part of his personality. I always viewed that tale as hopeful because as we all go on the trail of sainthood we have our issues to work on. It was no secret that John enjoyed his drink. There were times maybe a little too much. On the long walk toward sainthood each of us has master some of virtues but have more to perfect.
Helen Keller said, 'What we have once enjoyed we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us'. She also said, 'we don't learn the most from seeing or touching but from what we feel. We learn the most from our heart.'
How true that is, in my case.
John touched my heart.
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
As it will appear in Wisconsin Papers
John Gallagher Murphy, aged 79, of Olympia, Washington died on 12th of April, 2013. John was born in Green Bay, Wisconsin on July 13, 1933 to Marjorie G Murphy and E Frederick Murphy. John
graduated from St Francis grade school in De Pere and graduated in 1951
from Green Bay East High School. He attended Kiski preparatory school
in Pittsburgh, Pa, and Colorado University. Short one semester of graduating from St.
Norbert’s College in 1954 John started working at Murphy Supply Co in Green Bay. He succeeded his
father and became general manager and President in 1973 in the family
business.
John married Loretta Smith Mckenna in 1979. John
is survived by Loretta, her two children, Kenneth Smith (Suchi) and
their two children, Mira and Ahman and Susan Armour and her two
daughters, Hannah and Natalie. Also, surviving are two Brothers, E.
Frederick Murphy Jr(Betty) and Elbridge (Gus) Murphy(Joyce) and nieces
and nephews, Frederick C Murphy, Sheila Murphy, Catherine Murphy
Brodner, John F. Murphy and Brick N. Murphy.
Door County, WI. played an important role in John’s
life from his grandparent’s to his parents’ cottages in Egg Harbor to
his home, the Stonehouse, in Sister Bay that he shared with Loretta.
His years of racing sail boats in partnership with his brother Gus, to
cross country skiing, to later years of renewing his interest in golf,
John was most at home on the peninsula of Door County.
John was a loyal Packer fan and shared those Sundays afternoon seated closely to his brothers in a spot, he helped his father pick out as the stadium was being built.
John and Loretta moved to the West Coast and settled in Olympia, Washington to be near family and grandchildren ten years ago.
If anyone wants to make a donation in John’s name please do so to the Lacey STARS program located at Senior Center 6757 Pacific Ave Se Lacey, Wa 98503.
On Friday, May 17th at 3:00 a Memorial Mass will be held at St. Joseph Church, St. Norbert's Campus. Visitation will be 2:00.
 |
20130415114744.pdf |
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Balance
My husband, John, never met a pretty woman he didn't want to flirt with or a child that he didn't want to interact with. He could be annoying, irritating and charming all within a minute. His favorite phases in the second part of his life were, "well, we got some thing done today" and "they were really nice people". He finished most day by saying the first, meaning our day had purpose. The second phase after meeting anyone one new was his belief system that all people are fundamentally good.
John had the ability to walk in between two contractor that were swearing at each other and making threatening jesters. Both were frightened by the punishing December rains and wanted to complete their work on our yard before a freeze during the building period. John quietly walked up to one and talk for a few minutes and then went to the other and spend some moments. I still don't know what he said but both of them changed demeanor. Our general contractor stood speechless. In the six months of working with us, he had never seen that side of John. The atmosphere had changed.
One of my favorite pictures of John reflects our differences. I had a goal of visiting China from the moment I realize it was possible. John had no interest, in fact, used labor issues with his company as a reason that it would humiliate him to took such a trip during such times. I had taken two semester of college courses on Chinese history in preparation for this life time adventure, wanted my children and John to go with me. I waited another year, again I brought up my goal of travel to China. This time, I was firm, come with us or stay home. John in the end with no interest except to be at my side, made the trip.
The year is 1985, we were visiting Mao's favorite tea plantation, I stepped out of a tea drying room to photograph women in the stream below me some getting drinking water and while others washed clothes. My thoughts are on the cleanliness of this water and the tea that will be offered. Suddenly, many people are calling my name and telling me to come quickly back in to the drying room. Here is John sitting on one of the wooden boxes leaning over a huge heated steel bowl fulled with tea leaves using his hand to stir. I have seen a local man do this minutes before. Using sign language, John had asked if he may try and the man got up and gave John his wooden box. The room stopped. All the Americans were taking pictures and all the Chinese were standing in a line with their hand over their mouths to hide their laughter of both the strangeness of the sight and the inexperience of the new tea dryer.
I studied books and John studied people. I was curious, John needed to be included in my life. We balance each other perfectly in years of globe circling. John enriched my travels.
John had the ability to walk in between two contractor that were swearing at each other and making threatening jesters. Both were frightened by the punishing December rains and wanted to complete their work on our yard before a freeze during the building period. John quietly walked up to one and talk for a few minutes and then went to the other and spend some moments. I still don't know what he said but both of them changed demeanor. Our general contractor stood speechless. In the six months of working with us, he had never seen that side of John. The atmosphere had changed.
One of my favorite pictures of John reflects our differences. I had a goal of visiting China from the moment I realize it was possible. John had no interest, in fact, used labor issues with his company as a reason that it would humiliate him to took such a trip during such times. I had taken two semester of college courses on Chinese history in preparation for this life time adventure, wanted my children and John to go with me. I waited another year, again I brought up my goal of travel to China. This time, I was firm, come with us or stay home. John in the end with no interest except to be at my side, made the trip.
The year is 1985, we were visiting Mao's favorite tea plantation, I stepped out of a tea drying room to photograph women in the stream below me some getting drinking water and while others washed clothes. My thoughts are on the cleanliness of this water and the tea that will be offered. Suddenly, many people are calling my name and telling me to come quickly back in to the drying room. Here is John sitting on one of the wooden boxes leaning over a huge heated steel bowl fulled with tea leaves using his hand to stir. I have seen a local man do this minutes before. Using sign language, John had asked if he may try and the man got up and gave John his wooden box. The room stopped. All the Americans were taking pictures and all the Chinese were standing in a line with their hand over their mouths to hide their laughter of both the strangeness of the sight and the inexperience of the new tea dryer.
I studied books and John studied people. I was curious, John needed to be included in my life. We balance each other perfectly in years of globe circling. John enriched my travels.
The Tender Moments
Even when death is expected, there is a shock to it. The lifelessness of that shell body is surreal. The spirit, the energy that is life, in a second gone, turns a body into a piece of hard sculpture.
For years I have been living one day at a time because the long term thought of the daily grind of care giving to Alzheimer person would have been too depressing to take on. My pattern of thought had a major outline that I care for John lovingly for this day, this one day. The next morning I started over. If the day came that I would need to lift him I would give up my role and turn his care over to a team of people. Fortunately, our years together were many and his sweetness and gentle personality stay with him to the end. The help of a team for his care was only in the last 20 days of his life.
There was a time about a month ago that was a particularly difficult afternoon with many accidents and clean ups. I said to John, who found these moments confusing and distasteful, "this is no way for the two of us to live anymore". In totally clarity he looked at me and said, "I agree".
Ten days later, he had a slight cold and what appeared to be a tiny stroke at home at noon. That was the beginning of a rapid and fast decline of all his systems. He died yesterday quietly toward morning in a care facility.
There are windows or seconds of absolute normalcy with Alzheimer individuals and all of around treasure and cling to these moments. One day as John was recovering in the hospital from the flu, I walked into his room and a nurse and aid were busy doing their work. John sitting up straight in his bed and said, "I love you, I love you" as I walked toward him. A little to my surprise this clear declaration of emotion but it was nothing short of shock to the two other women in the room. I took his hand and told him, "I love you, also". I knew at the second that these moments were to treasure because his health was very fragile and he probably was never coming home again. We shared other brief tender seconds here and there but remembering his need to remind me of his love on that morning made those last few years worth it all.
For years I have been living one day at a time because the long term thought of the daily grind of care giving to Alzheimer person would have been too depressing to take on. My pattern of thought had a major outline that I care for John lovingly for this day, this one day. The next morning I started over. If the day came that I would need to lift him I would give up my role and turn his care over to a team of people. Fortunately, our years together were many and his sweetness and gentle personality stay with him to the end. The help of a team for his care was only in the last 20 days of his life.
There was a time about a month ago that was a particularly difficult afternoon with many accidents and clean ups. I said to John, who found these moments confusing and distasteful, "this is no way for the two of us to live anymore". In totally clarity he looked at me and said, "I agree".
Ten days later, he had a slight cold and what appeared to be a tiny stroke at home at noon. That was the beginning of a rapid and fast decline of all his systems. He died yesterday quietly toward morning in a care facility.
There are windows or seconds of absolute normalcy with Alzheimer individuals and all of around treasure and cling to these moments. One day as John was recovering in the hospital from the flu, I walked into his room and a nurse and aid were busy doing their work. John sitting up straight in his bed and said, "I love you, I love you" as I walked toward him. A little to my surprise this clear declaration of emotion but it was nothing short of shock to the two other women in the room. I took his hand and told him, "I love you, also". I knew at the second that these moments were to treasure because his health was very fragile and he probably was never coming home again. We shared other brief tender seconds here and there but remembering his need to remind me of his love on that morning made those last few years worth it all.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
The Walks
Yesterday I enrolled John in Hospice. His level of care will be better and they provided more equipment for this care.
Each day John's health is fading. His body has trembles now, he baubles and his all over appears is of a failing body. While I am there we generally go for long circulate walks in the halls and I talk to him. John is still there---------his hand will go up to wave to someone as we pass or he will say, "Hi, there."
A couple Hospice nurses have used the theme that dying is like being born-- it is a process. Yesterday, the lady said that some times the spirit is more ready and have to wait for the body, other times is it is the opposite. Then there is the sweet spot of coming together spirit and body and the individual passes over. I would describe these days as terribly sad but also there is a tenderness and sweetness fulled with love and memories.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
mystery of death
At fifteen is one of the first memories I have of someone speaking interestingly about death. Father Denis was pastor and once a week he taught religious class to sophomores. Father Denis love to teach the life lessons instead of the same old text book material. He started to talk about people who he saw die and the do's and don'ts around dying people. Of course, we all at 15 found this much more interesting that any subject covered in the religious book sitting on the desk. The topic of death was a mystery to all of us.
Father Denis's main first rule was never whisper or talk in front of the sick person assuming that they can not hear. Hearing part of the brain is always active he convinced us. The second thing that we all found amazing is that there is a choice by the spirit of when the spirit wants to leave the body. He had this long story of giving the last sacrament repeatedly to this man. The man was at peace, was ready to die and the wife goes into a crying, screaming I can't live without you scene. At some point after many visits to the house, Father Denis took her to another part of the home and explained it is time to let go of poor Norman spirit depart. He explained her crying was so distressing that the spirit would not leave. He encouraged her to quietly prayer and remember that it was time for Norman's earthly life to end.
I have experienced watching people that I love die and have developed a whole internalize system of coping. The first time the mystery of death became personal I was in my early 30's, I owned a bookstore so all the material I used was on the shelve and what was not there I ordered to read. It was the 70's and many revolutions were taking place at one time. Blacks in the streets marched for civil rights, women burned bras in protect for equal pay and scholarships , hippies against war dressed up crazy, acted out and did drugs and scared everyone over 40. There was also a revolutionary movement called hospice and a best seller call ON DEATH AND DYING.
The emotional and physical and psychological event of death for the first time had been studied and some common ideas were shared by most humans, it seemed. For the first time, the priest and the family doctor were not the go to answer people concerning all the questions surrounding death. This single book, I believe, open the door for many more books on the subject and many points of view to opening talked about for the first time.
My husband, in the 70's, was hospitalized for six weeks with cancer that was not operated on because it was too later by the time they figured out what the problem was. The days before CAT scans. In the end on a morphine drip and totally consumed by cancer my husband died as I read every printed book on death, afterlife, any thing to explain what was happening at this time in my life. I was way beyond grade school religious stories of angels and time in purgatory. I wanted answers to harder questions of why we share a life and why we pick our mates and why they leave us early. I needed to make sense of this death to deal with why I should go on living. Depression and grief are powerful emotions particularly when young.
Those books gave me a frame to understand all of this in a way that has served me well my whole life. It does not wash away sadness, loneliness and the full the empty space. It only let's me understand it is in a bigger frame.
I am facing the finial chapter of John's life. I am already grieving this change but on my visit today with John I am happy to see him so calm and comfortable. I am amazed at his serenity.
Father Denis's main first rule was never whisper or talk in front of the sick person assuming that they can not hear. Hearing part of the brain is always active he convinced us. The second thing that we all found amazing is that there is a choice by the spirit of when the spirit wants to leave the body. He had this long story of giving the last sacrament repeatedly to this man. The man was at peace, was ready to die and the wife goes into a crying, screaming I can't live without you scene. At some point after many visits to the house, Father Denis took her to another part of the home and explained it is time to let go of poor Norman spirit depart. He explained her crying was so distressing that the spirit would not leave. He encouraged her to quietly prayer and remember that it was time for Norman's earthly life to end.
I have experienced watching people that I love die and have developed a whole internalize system of coping. The first time the mystery of death became personal I was in my early 30's, I owned a bookstore so all the material I used was on the shelve and what was not there I ordered to read. It was the 70's and many revolutions were taking place at one time. Blacks in the streets marched for civil rights, women burned bras in protect for equal pay and scholarships , hippies against war dressed up crazy, acted out and did drugs and scared everyone over 40. There was also a revolutionary movement called hospice and a best seller call ON DEATH AND DYING.
The emotional and physical and psychological event of death for the first time had been studied and some common ideas were shared by most humans, it seemed. For the first time, the priest and the family doctor were not the go to answer people concerning all the questions surrounding death. This single book, I believe, open the door for many more books on the subject and many points of view to opening talked about for the first time.
My husband, in the 70's, was hospitalized for six weeks with cancer that was not operated on because it was too later by the time they figured out what the problem was. The days before CAT scans. In the end on a morphine drip and totally consumed by cancer my husband died as I read every printed book on death, afterlife, any thing to explain what was happening at this time in my life. I was way beyond grade school religious stories of angels and time in purgatory. I wanted answers to harder questions of why we share a life and why we pick our mates and why they leave us early. I needed to make sense of this death to deal with why I should go on living. Depression and grief are powerful emotions particularly when young.
Those books gave me a frame to understand all of this in a way that has served me well my whole life. It does not wash away sadness, loneliness and the full the empty space. It only let's me understand it is in a bigger frame.
I am facing the finial chapter of John's life. I am already grieving this change but on my visit today with John I am happy to see him so calm and comfortable. I am amazed at his serenity.
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