An extraordinary life ended yesterday. My mother, Marilynn Margaret Ann Schmalfeldt, 82, died at about 7 AM Central standard time at the Milwaukee Catholic home. I was fortunate enough to be with her, for her final night and for her final morning.
Let me first answer some questions from people who wonder why I was not with my mother from the moment she first fell ill, until the moment she died. One. She had done this before. She had approached deaths door only to pull a rabbit out of her hat and live for another few years. Two. When on Monday it looked like the the end was near, but not imminent, I believed that she would last long enough for me to meet my obligations to attend a court hearing made necessary by Aaron Walker having filed a peace order against me. That court hearing was set for Friday afternoon. I figured once that was done, I could get a plane for Milwaukee and be here with my mother. By Thursday morning, it was clear that my mother was not going to last much longer. I contacted my lawyer and asked him to seek a continuance. Aaron Walker, the overly-litigious Manassas, Virginia lawyer who is taking me to court for having the temerity to ask him questions, likes to make a big show about his ?allowing me? to go to be with my mother. By the time Mr. Walker gave me his ?permission? to be with my mama, I was already on the plane.
Note: if the details of the death disturb you, stop reading right now. I am going to describe my mother?s death in quite graphic detail, and tell you why I was so glad to be here to witness it.
Still with me? Let?s continue.
I made it to my mothers side at about 5 PM central standard time Thursday night. She was obviously dying. Her extremities had turned blue, her eyes were sunken into her face, her mouth was wide open, and she was struggling for each breath. I sat by her bedside for four hours, holding her hand, stroking her arm, recalling funny stories about our family. A few times, I asked her to squeeze my hand if she could hear me, but she never did. But it was clear, by the expression on her face, which had relaxed considerably after my arrival, she was aware of my presence. She began to breathe easier as I spoke to her.
At about 9 o?clock, exhausted, I went back to my room. I have a room here at the Milwaukee Catholic home, they have a set up for family members who need to be near their loved ones at this sort of time. In fact, it is from that room right now, that I am dictating this recollection of events. Anyway, I went to bed but didn?t sleep. Not so much out of what I had seen that evening, which is something you would not want to see a picture of, but more for the thought of my mother?s imminent release from the bondage of her own body. As I lay there trying to sleep, I began to wonder where a fellow could find a rosary here at the Milwaukee Catholic Home. I wanted my mother to die holding the rosary.
I finally drifted off at about 3 AM. At 5 AM my phone rang. It was the ward nurse telling me that my mother?s breathing pattern had changed, and that I might want to get over to the room. I got up, got dressed, and went right back to her room and sat by her side.
As someone who is seen this sort of thing play out many times as a Navy hospital corpsman, I could tell death was imminent. Her breathing was extremely labored, short bursts of inhaling followed by long exhales. She was working very hard for each breath, and fluid had collected in the back of her throat causing what is commonly and crudely known as ?the death rattle?.
I got up to hang up my jacket, and noticed on my mother?s bulletin board an old rosary. It was the same rosary she used at church when I was a little boy. I can tell you thousands of times I?ve seen my mother work those blue and silver beads. I think my mother wanted me to see that. I took it down from the bulletin board and wrapped it in her right hand. I sat down next to her and talked to her. I rubbed her arm, I stroked her hand, I kissed her forehead and told her it was okay to go.
As she struggled for each breath, I tried to think of things to make small talk about, just so she could hear my voice. I began to discuss the current criminal case against me. I told her about the right-wingers who were trying to throw me in jail. When I said the words ?throw me in jail?, at first I thought she was reacting with upset over that news. Her facial expression changed and she made a strangling sound in her throat. I stood up at her bedside and held her hand. I said over and over again, ?I love you mama. I love you mama. I love you mama.? She made another strangling sound and turned her face away from me. It sounded like she was choking on the secretions in her throat, but then that stopped. She took one deep breath. Then a smaller one. Then a little tiny breath. And then she stopped. It was 7 AM.
I called for the ward nurse and told her on the phone, ?I think she just left us?.
The nurse hurried to the room, took her blood pressure, listened to her heart with a stethoscope and told me she was gone.
My Mother, the woman who gave me life, she was in the room, obviously, when I entered the world. I was in the room when she left it. The nurse went to notify the funeral home, and I was alone with my mama and her spirit. I spoke to her spirit. I said ?mama I know your soul is probably still in the room, and you can still hear me. You know how much I love you. You know how much I will always love you. You know that for every day for for the rest of my life, I will brag about my wonderful mother and my wonderful father.?
Then I called my sister and told her the news we were expecting. That our mother had gone. My sister, for years, was my mama?s champion. She was mom?s constant companion, protector, advocate, and best friend. It was beyond her capacity to see my mother in the condition she was in, and my mother made it clear to her she did not want my sister to see her at the end.
Then I began the time-honored process of family notification. I called her only brother, my Uncle Herb in Florida. We spoke for a little while. I called my little brother in New Mexico, but as it was still quite early there, I had to leave a message for him to call me back. I called my deceased older brother?s wife, my deceased twin brothers wife, my oldest niece, and allowed them to spread the news to the rest of the family.
After the nurses had done their work, giving mom on her final bath, combing her hair, putting her teeth back in, I was alone with her again. I took a picture of her, but no one will ever see it except for me and my wife. She was beautiful. At rest, peaceful, not a care in the world. Past all suffering. Finally reunited with her husband who died 30 years ago last month. There was no other man for my mother. This was a woman who understood fidelity, loyalty, faithfulness, and the special bond of family.
This was the woman who taught me and my brothers and sisters that we are all each other?s keepers. Together with my father, my mother taught us that we were no better or worse than anyone else, that we were all gods children. My mother believed in her heart that we exist for one reason, to live by God?s rule that we love each other as much as, if not more than, we love ourselves. To do everything within our power to improve the human condition. To leave the world a better place than it was when you found it. We were not placed on this earth to get rich. We were not placed on this earth to acquire property or goods by defrauding others. We were not placed on this earth to make other people miserable to benefit ourselves. We certainly were not placed on this earth to be unfaithful spouses, to be people who would prostitute their own wives to make a buck, people who would lie to their supporters to get them to send their hard earned money for fraud. Our purpose on earth, according to my mother, was to make it a better place for everyone. Everyone. Every one.
I am currently engaged in a legal battle with people who want to put me in jail for the crime of asking them legitimate questions. They want to put me in jail, because I dared to use the @ symbol in front of their name on Twitter. They want to put me in jail, because they pretend that ?Beware the Ides of March? is a threat, not a warning of dire future events.
I honestly believe these people are motivated by evil. It?s not ideology, it?s not being a conservative, it?s being a greed-filled, money-lusting, evil person. That is what is causing these people to try to put me in jail. They want to raise money off my name and my suffering. They want to enrich themselves at my expense, and yours, and whoever they can take advantage of next. They will not succeed. I will defeat them.
It is currently 7:20 PM central standard time on Saturday, March 9, 2013. This is my final night in Milwaukee here at the Milwaukee Catholic Home. At the church service tomorrow morning at 10:30, my mother?s name will be mentioned in the mass. That is the only remembrance she wanted. Here is the link to the obituary page on the Molthen-Bell Funeral Home website for my mother. http://obits.dignitymemorial.com/dignity-memorial/obituary.aspx?n=Marilynn-Schmalfeldt&lc=1847&pid=163523254&mid=5452304
If you want to know the difference between people like my mother, people like me, people like my family, and the people who support haters like Lee Stranahan, Aaron Walker, Robert Stacy McCain, read their writings. Read the things they wrote on the same day my mother died.
Ask yourself which is better, love, understanding, brotherhood, caring for each other, caring for all mankind, or?
Greed, hatred, lust for money, treachery, lying, and other evil displayed by people like Lee Stranahan, Aaron Walker, Robert Stacy McCain, and others of their ilk.
When you talk to your daughters, ask yourself who you would rather they have as a model, my mother? Or my ex-wife?
When you talk to your sons? Ask yourself who they would rather have as a model, someone like me? Or a lying, thieving, fraudulent, deadbeat who pimped his own wife into prostitution, Lee Stranahan? Or a disgraced, unemployed, lying former attorney, a coward who inflames hatred, under an assumed name, and then lies about the reasons he was fired, like Aaron Walker? Or, a drunken, mildly-once-respected journalist, who now shills for the right wing, and writes what ever he?s told to, like Robert Stacy McCain?
When you talk to your children about the difference between right and wrong, do you want your children to be on the side of good? Or evil?
I know which side I choose. I choose the honor I was taught by my father, John Matthew Schmalfeldt, born July 20, 1928 ? died February 13, 1983. I choose the goodness taught to me by my mother, Marilynn Margaret Ann Hanger Schmalfeldt, born October 31, 1930 ? died March 8, 2013.
May your children be fortunate enough to have parents as strong and good as mine were.
Source: http://www.breitbartunmasked.com/latest-news/marilynn-schmalfeldt-oct-31-1930-march-8-2013/
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