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.

            

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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.

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.




 

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. 

                

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.
  
          
         

New Home for John

         I went to see John over noon hour today to get a feel for how lunch was handled at Garden Courte.   I found him sitting in the hall right inside the secure area next to the garden door.  It maybe have been Donna, this Saturday afternoon friend, that just been there and they had been in the garden.  As I greeted John, he smiled slightly and turned back to look in the garden.  John can best described as pleasant, calm and half in this world and perhaps more in another.

        John and I then moved to the garden to get some of the warm sun on our skin and I asked him how his sleep was and if he had a good morning. He doesn't really answer but smiles to the questions. I made some talk about my morning and we moved toward another door that enters the dining room.  Suddenly there is Ken, Mira and Ahman.  What a surprise!  They are passing by and what to check in on John.  John acted as he knew this group of people. We all shared about 15 minutes and they were off.

        I sat for along while watch how the staff moved patients into the dining room one by one. The tables were covered with dark blue linen cloths and bright lemon napkins.  As I sat there and I remembered my Mother's stay at a long term care facility, the memory is that of a horrible smell.  It was a drag to visit her for the odor  in that place.  It was considered one of the best in the city.   And yet, this place has none of that.  I wonder about design or management.  This staff is well trained in the small details about each person and method of handling situations and it shows.  I mention all this because the public media and my personal experience has all been so negative and I sat there today and realized that I was changing my mind about most of my belief on long term care.  None of us get the luxury of choosing our finial period time here but the very weak, sick and elderly need a staff of people to give that proper care.  When will this ever be an a goal for our national conscious, that this is a human right?  Probably not for a long time because we have not evolved enough as a people spiritually.