The Last Days of Florentine Agnes Schettler

1910 - 2006

Around the first of March, 2006, Mom was having some trouble breathing and was feeling “kinda trembly” as she described it. So Norm and Diane took her to the hospital for a checkup. The doctor reported that it seemed Mom had had a silent heart attack some weeks prior and that her heart was weakened. He reported that she had congenital heart disease and should have some time to recover in a nursing home. Norm and Diane brought her to the Carroll Health Center Nursing Home.

Mom spent about a month in the nursing home before we met with the staff from the St. Anthony Hospice staff and we all agreed she should come home and die in her own home. Her doctor predicted that she would only live another week. Her lungs were filling with fluid and there was some bleeding in her colon. The Hospice people were very good and so accommodating to her needs and our needs. So Mom came home on Thursday, March 23, to die.

While she was home, she spent much of the day in bed. The Hospice people brought in a special hospital bed for her. She had many many coughing spells throughout the day and night and could not seem to clear her lungs. She said it hurt in her chest when she coughed. After one particularly difficult coughing spell she asked, “Why do I have to suffer so?”

On Friday morning I got her up and walked her to the bathroom. Then I walked her back to her bedroom and helped her into her chair. I wheeled her out to the living room by the television where a Mass was being televised. I thought she might enjoy that. I left her there and told her I was going to go fix her some breakfast. She replied, “Oh hell, I should be fixing YOU breakfast.”

Her first two nights at home were very restless and uncomfortable for her. She was still able, however, to walk from her bedroom to the bathroom with someone's assistance. She could also sit up at the table with the rest of us and eat a full meal. She had a good appetite.

We could see her weakening each day. All of her children dropped in to visit with her over the first two days she was home. We even had Chinese food for dinner with her that night. After dinner, we helped her to bed. One of the last things she said that night before Diane and I left the room was “I’m not afraid.” She made this comment very deliberately and her words made me feel at peace. We prayed the Angels Prayer with her and then left her to sleep as we went into the living room of her house and talked and watched television.

After a short while, we heard her reciting the Angels Prayer again to herself. “Angel of God my guardian dear. To whom Gods love commits me her. Ever this day be at my side to light, to guard, to rule and guide me safely home.” After a few minute she repeated the prayer again. And then about five minutes later, she said it a third time.

That night, her third night at home, Saturday night, was extremely quiet and restful. She did not move from her sleeping position at all throughout the night; for twelve straight hours she did not budge. Her sleeping was quiet and peaceful, with no coughing or restlessness as she had been the prior two nights. John and I stayed at the house with her that night. I checked on her every two hours throughout the night and noticed that she had not moved even a little and that her breathing was not labored or difficult. I have to say that several times during that night, it seemed to me that she was not really there, not in her body, but somewhere else. Perhaps she was deep inside, or maybe she was out looking in the windows of heaven. I don’t know, but I truly believe she was “out” somewhere.

All night long, I could hear her oxygen flowing in a way that indicated to me that the tubes were not positioned correctly in her nostrils. It seemed to be blowing gently against her cheek instead. This worried me a little but she was resting so soundly each time I checked on her that I decided not to disturb her by adjusting them.

At 7:30am, I went into her bedroom and touched her forehead. She became immediately conscious and alert. She opened her eyes and had a look on her face and in her eyes that was different from what I had ever seen before. There was a look of intensity about the need to communicate, as well as a look of serenity as if she had come to final terms with her mortality. She seemed intent on talking and connecting with John and me as we stood at her bedside. Her voice had a tone of finality and warmth to it. “God love ya”. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, God in Heaven.” “God love you.” “May God bless you. May God bless all of my children, each and every one, each and everyone.” “God is Love. God is Love”. “I’m sorry if I have kept you awake; I’m sorry I’ve been so much trouble.” “Ninety-five good long years. This is it. This is life. Good-bye. Good-bye. Say good-bye to everyone. I love you. I love all my children.”

I held her hand throughout all of this and said “good-bye” to her and told her I would say good-bye to everyone for her. She repeated many of these comments over the next few minutes until finally she laid her head back on her pillow, closed her eyes and rested quietly. John left to find Norm and Diane and bring them back so they too could hear Mom’s words, but when they arrived, Mom had finished saying what she needed to say.

The Hospice Aid, Marcie, soon arrived and helped Mom get cleaned up and dressed for the day. Mom was still able to arch and adjust her body as she was being washed to make it easier for Marcie. Diane fixed her a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast which she was able to feed herself. “Good oatmeal” she said to Diane. I believe these were her last words.

After breakfast she sat in her chair for a while and then she was put back in her bed. John and I went to mass in Maple River and brought her back a communion host which John broke into small pieces for her and she ate it. This was her last food.

As the day went on she grew weaker and weaker. By noon she was no longer able to form words with her mouth. All of her children came into her bedroom and one at a time they told Mom they loved her and said their good-byes. Now and then she would seem to respond by opening her eyes and smiling or trying to talk.

Vera lead us in reciting the Rosary for her. Again, she seemed to try to pray along with us but could not form the words.

As the day wore on, her breathing became more shallow and quick. The seconds that passed between exhales and inhales stretched out longer and longer until finally, at around 7:35pm, she exhaled her last, and she was gone.

Having the whole family in her house for her last day saying “I love you” and “Good-bye” to her all afternoon was a beautiful thing. It was difficult to watch her body struggle to stay alive while her spirit was trying to escape. There was a great sense of relief for her and for us when she was finally free of her body.

I will always admire the strength and courage with which our Mother faced her last day on earth. Without fear and with great love for God and her children, she marched toward the Light, and without hesitation, she walked out of her old body and straight into His waiting arms.