Judy’s Story

Site created on July 31, 2023

Welcome to our CaringBridge website. We are using it to keep Judy's family and friends updated in one place. 

On the afternoon of her 72nd birthday, just a month into her well-earned retirement, Judy suffered a major hemorrhagic stroke. Because she was on blood thinners and the bleeding was increasing rapidly, she had emergency brain surgery to remove some of the blood and decrease swelling of the brain. Judy was in an induced coma for days, which she gradually emerged from. The left side of her body is not moving, and her speech is slow, but soon she will begin therapy to hopefully bring movement back.  The doctors and nurses say this is likely going to be a long process, and I (Judy's only child) live three states away, so we need all the good thoughts, prayers, and helping hands we can get!

Caring Bridge is a place where you can send her words of encouragement and sign up for requested visitation times or other ways of helping.  Thank you for caring for my sweet mama!

Newest Update

Journal entry by Larkin Lujan

 

Hello, Friends and family of Judy. Thank you to all who have helped in this process, attended her memorial, contributed to her care via GoFundMe, and supported my mom and me. You will be happy to know that my family and I are carrying on my mom's legacy in many ways. The most profound is that we are moving to Costa Rica for the rest of the school year (maybe longer, who knows?) so our kids can experience another culture and learn the language my mom was so determined to be fluent in. Now, as she did with me, I will immerse my boys in what is going on elsewhere in the world, where people experience so much less materially yet so much more joyfully. I know she would be so proud of our adventures!

I posted this on Facebook today and wanted to post it here to be sure you know the depth of my gratitude and the magic she's still creating... 

Today is the three-month anniversary of my mom’s passing. Because I spend so little time on social media and because I am an only child - the only child grieving the loss of this particular mother, in many ways, this has been an acutely solitary experience.
 
That being said, since her first stroke on her birthday in July, people showed up in droves - friends of both of ours from middle and high school, my mom’s colleagues from West Marin Elementary (whom I wish I had known as long as she had), her dearest inner circle of tennis buddies, family members I speak to a few times a year at most, and the most wonderful neighbors one could wish for.
 
I realized that despite my mom’s brother and parents dying while she was still relatively young, she had created a larger-than-blood family all around the Bay Area, her true home. And all these years, while I traveled or moved to various states, she was cared for by a community of people who genuinely knew what an incredible friend, teacher, grandmother, artist, and lover of life she was. For this, I am forever grateful.
A magical story I have told only a few took place the day I had to make the decision whether or not to stop treatments and put my mom into hospice care. I cannot imagine a more enormous and weighted choice one could make; the length and quality of my mom’s life were in my hands alone.
 
As I was packing up to head to the hospital to meet the palliative care team, I spoke out loud to my mom, asking for a sign to know if I was doing the right thing by helping her transition to dying rather than keeping up the painful and fruitless fight to keep her alive in a body that no longer worked. I turned on her phone to text some of her friends, put it in my purse, and got into her car. As I began to drive, a song came through the speakers. Mind you, the radio was not on, and no CD was in the CD player. I hadn’t even listened to music in her car since I had been driving it. Yet, lilting through the stereo was “Brokedown Palace” by the Grateful Dead.
 
Crying, flustered, and pushing every button on the sound system, I tried to figure out where the song was coming from. It was the perfect sign, and I wanted to be sure it was my mom sending it.
Halfway through my drive, it came to me. By turning on my mom’s phone, it synched with her car stereo, and that was the song it chose to play. Then and there, I knew I was doing the right thing. (And now, obviously, I need to learn and record that song.)
I have INFINITE GRATITUDE for all who showed up for this experience. And, if possible, beyond infinite gratitude for my mama - for everything she gave me, including making it clear it’s OK to let go.
***
If you are unfamiliar with this song, here are the lyrics:
Fare you well my honey
Fare you well my only true one
All the birds that were singing
Have flown except you alone
Going to leave this broke-down palace
On my hands and my knees I will roll, roll, roll
Make myself a bed by the waterside
In my time, in my time, I will roll, roll, roll
In a bed, in a bed
By the waterside I will lay my head
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
River gonna take me
Sing me sweet and sleepy
Sing me sweet and sleepy
All the way back back home
It's a far gone lullaby
Sung many years ago
Mama, mama, many worlds I've come
Since I first left home
Going home, going home
By the waterside I will rest my bones
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul
Going to plant a weeping willow
On the banks green edge it will grow, grow, grow
Sing a lullaby beside the water
Lovers come and go, the river roll, roll, roll
Fare you well, fare you well
I love you more than words can tell
Listen to the river sing sweet songs
To rock my soul.
 
 
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