My wife and I were finishing dinner, getting ready to watch Barack's message tonight.
Unspoken was the question: Why have we not heard from Dad regarding Mom's operation this afternoon?
Deep in the back of my mind I knew, somehow, that the lack of news could have meant the worst possible outcome.
And when Dad finally called he confirmed our fears. Mom had died on the operating table.
Doris Lee Nielsen McHenry was a Mom. An average Mom, an elderly woman of 80 like any you'd see walking around. You wouldn't think twice if you saw her, but she was my Mom, and that made her special.
My father was in the Navy and spent much of my early life overseas when his ships were deployed. This made Mom leader of the house in many respects. She was both Mom and Dad to my brother and I, and she ruled the roost.
She was tough when she needed to be, and loving always, even when we screwed up.
My adult life took me far from my folks, living across the country. We probably only saw each other every year, maybe every two years.
Email brought us closer, and last year they moved to Phoenix and built a house with my brother. They visited my wife, Carolyn, and I last summer.
I knew that Mom was fading, but did not know that, when they drove away, it would be the last time I would see her.
Several years ago, Mom was diagnosed with an aortic aneurysm.
This is a weak spot in the aorta, and it does not take a doctor to realize the implications of what can happen if that aneurysm breaks. Her last checkup showed the aneurysm to be almost 6 centimeters, so it was pretty large.
So, after much family discussion, Mom decided to go with one of the treatment options and have a stent inserted. The docs would go up through the leg artery into the aorta and place a stent to strengthen the weak spot.
The other options were to open the chest and actually cut/replace the weakened aorta. Or to do nothing.
I wish like hell they'd decided to do nothing. But this option was offered as the best way and least risk.
Unfortunately, good wishes often come to naught, as the weakened aorta broke during the procedure, and Mom bled to death on the operating table. There was nothing that the doctors could do.
I take comfort that she was under anesthesia, that she suffered no pain, and that my Dad and brother were there. I'm grateful that one of the last things Mom saw before going under anesthesia was her family.
And I feel terrible that I was not able to be there with them. We had all talked on the phone last week and had come to communal agreement that I was not needed there for such a "minor operation."
But as the saying goes, there is no such thing as a "minor operation."
Which brings me to tonight.
Getting ready for Barack's message, then the devastating news when Dad called.
You can imagine our phone call and how this hits a family.
I was numb to the core, yet still managed to sit on the couch with my wife to watch Mr. Obama. That half-hour gave some comfort. I know that my parents have already voted in Arizona, and I sure as hell hope that Mom did the right thing and chose Barack for president.
No, I do not know that for sure, but I'm hopeful.
In any case, with just a few days left in the campaign, tonight I broke out the Visa (even though I've been unemployed for 7 months) and made a $50 donation to Barack Obama for president in memory of Doris McHenry.
I don't know; maybe she had voted for Mr. McCain. But if she had, I'm sure that tonight she is laughing her ass off up in heaven, with a donation in her name to the next president of the United States.
RIP Doris McHenry, 1928 - 2008
Love, Steve McHenry