Remembering Mom

Just a quick note to thank everyone who attended mom's remembrance ceremony today. It was great reconnecting with family and friends from long ago. We know that mom would have enjoyed herself immensely among the diverse crowd that came together to remember her today. For those of you interested in the videos I showed today, you can view and download them at our MobileMe gallery (scroll to bottom of page).  I'm in the process of uploading them to YouTube, as well.  But that takes a bit longer.  (I'll update this post once the videos are available there.) James, Mike and I would also like to thank TPC Snoqualmie Ridge for their generous hospitality.  Deke, in particular, was a great deal of help.  Thank you, Deke. Love to all... Alan

Save the Date: June 15

James and I are putting together a little get together to remember Mom.  James' employer, Snoqualmie TPC golf course, has graciously offered to host the event.  We've tentatively scheduled it for Monday, June 15.  We don't have a time, yet.  But, I wanted to communicate the date as soon as I could to give folks time to make travel arrangements.

Remembering Barbara Simon Bradley

James Bradley is hosting a gathering of friends and family to remember Barbara Simon Bradley on Monday, June 15, 2009 at 10:00 AM at TPC Snoqualmie Ridge golf club. Please RSVP to me via telephone, email or by leaving a comment here. Nearby accommodations include: (in order of price) Note: Seattle is ordinarily a very casual town. But, TPC Snoqualmie Ridge is a private club with a dress code that prohibits jeans.

Obituary: Barbara Simon Bradley

Barbara Ann Simon (Ridlehoover) BRADLEY died peacefully on February 13, 2009 in Issaquah, Washington of nonalcoholic liver disease and diabetes.  She was 61.  Born March 28, 1947 in Athens, Georgia, she grew up in a Marine Corps family, moving from coast to coast, and returning home to Georgia while her father was deployed overseas.  She graduated from Athens High and attended the University of Georgia before marrying her college sweetheart, Edward Ridlehoover, in 1966 and starting a family.  A devoted mother, she was a stay-at-home mom, playground monitor, den mother and PTA president.  She ran the annual craft bazaar for her sons' elementary school for several years, invariably staying up the night before to bake miniature loaves of banana and zucchini bread for her boys to sell while she manned a booth of her own full of crafts.  As her sons grew, she ventured out into the workforce, starting as a part-time teller and eventually becoming a credit union branch manager.  After graduating her sons from college and divorcing in 1998, she moved to Seattle to be near family and opened Tussie Mussies & More, a florist specializing in the English Garden style.  In 2001, Barbara met her true soul mate - a romantic Scotsman named James Bradley.  She and James married in 2003 and moved to the UK, where she spent three years as "the one with the charming accent."  Upon receiving worrisome medical news in 2006, James brought her back to the states where she was diagnosed with end-stage liver disease and told she would need a transplant.  Despite her best efforts, she was ultimately unable to regain the strength necessary to survive a transplant.  When she passed, she did so only after hearing her husband and sons together at her bedside sharing stories, tears and lots of laughter.  Barbara is survived by her devoted husband, James Bradley of Issaquah, WA; her sons, Alan (Jill / Hunter, Grace) Ridlehoover of Issaquah, WA and Mike (Kristie) Ridlehoover of Coeur d’Alene, ID; her parents, Anne and Frank Simon of Camano Island, WA; and her siblings, Dana Simon of Bend, OR, Joe (Linda) Simon of Central Point, OR, and Gina (Craig / Brian, Zak) Simon of Bellevue, WA.  A celebration of life is planned for late spring.  Details will be published on the web at  Please consider a memorial donation to Providence Marianwood Foundation (where the need is the greatest) or Swedish Medical Center Foundation (Charity Care).

Grateful for the time we had

In early 2007, just after Mom received the diagnosis that she had end-stage liver disease and would need a transplant, she began working with physical and occupational therapists to improve her strength.  But, she would only do the work while she was with the therapists - either in their offices or at our home.  Eventually, they stopped seeing her because Mom wasn't making any progress.  (Seems like mom needed more visits, not less; but that's insurance for you.) This pained me a great deal.  I wanted more than anything for her to get better.  I felt like she'd given up.  At one point, I even threatened to throw her out of my house for a lack of trying.  I told her that I wasn't going to sit idly by while she wasted away.  I couldn't be a party to that.  Like I said, it was very painful. By the time Hunter and Grace arrived, in March, 2008, mom's health was extremely poor.  She was incapable of walking or even standing without assistance.  This made the fact that she was on diuretics (for blood pressure - especially in the hepatic artery) and diarrheals (or laxatives, to remove ammonia from her colon before it entered the blood stream) all the more of an issue.  There was no way for her to get from the bed to the bathroom by herself. By June, 2008, there was no way to care for her at home.  She stopped taking the diarrheal (lactulose) during the day so as to avoid soiling herself while James was at work.  This led to a build up of ammonia that caused an encephalopathic episode which put her in the hospital.  While she was in the hospital, James and I made the decision to move her to a nursing home (on the advice of a very insistant nurse). It was very hard to watch Mom's health continue to decline.  It was especially difficult to think about Hunter and Grace never having the opportunity to get to know, first-hand, what a wonderful, creative, loving person she was.  At times, thinking about this made me very angry - angry at mom for not trying harder to get well.  Over time, that anger made it difficult for me to be around Mom.  I began (subconsiously) avoiding her.  And, I dragged my feet when we did go to see her. When I explained all this to the chaplain at the nursing home, during Mom's last week, he explained to me that God is our Father, and that perhaps He was reminding Mom what it was like to be loved unconditionally by a father through my interactions with the twins. This was especially poignant because my Mom never really knew her birth father.  He left when she was two or three years old.  And, her relationship with her adopted father - the man I know as "Grandpa" - was such that she never referred to him as "Dad." This touched me deeply.  Tears flowed out of me uncontrollably.  It was as though I'd been allowed a quick glimpse of God's master plan.  It was at once extremely emotional and deeply calming.  After all, by the time her liver disease was diagnosed, it was already classified as "end-stage," meaning that her liver had completely failed. At that point, she was already too sick to muster the energy to exercise in order to improve her condition. In the end, when Mom passed, I actually felt happy.  A deep feeling of peace came over me.  Rather than feeling sad, I felt grateful for the time we had.

Rest in peace: Barbara Simon Bradley

My mom passed away just after lunch, today.  She was 61. Mom died of liver failure, caused by cirrhosis, brought on by nonalcoholic steatohepatitis (NASH).  She was diagnosed on December 7, 2006.  But, by that point, she was already too weak for doctors to place her on the transplant list. Over the next two years, mom’s health took two steps backward for every step forward.  She was in and out of the hospital several times, eventually landing at Providence Marianwood nursing home in Issaquah last June. During the last couple weeks of her life, mom declined rapidly.  She stopped eating a week ago.  We stopped treating her illness in favor of making her comfortable on Monday.  And, starting on Tuesday, the nursing staff began to tell us that she could go anytime.  She hung around for another four days. Apparently, she was waiting until she could be alone with her three boys.  This morning, James (her husband), Mike (my brother), and I sat in her room, sharing our favorite memories of her.  We cried a little; but we laughed more.  I think she took it as a sign that we were going to be okay.  It gave her permission to slip away. At lunchtime, Mike and I left the room to help Jill feed the twins.  James took his lunch with her.  Afterward, he came out to check on us.  When he returned, ten minutes later, she was gone. Previously, mom expressed to me anxiety about dying.  There was no sign of it, today.  Rather, after her passing, I experienced a very deep calm.  I felt that she was at finally peace, finally resting after years of pain and suffering.  Her body failed her, but not her spirit. The family is planning to get together to remember mom sometime this summer.  We don’t have specifics, yet.  I’ll publish them here when we do. In the meantime, Jill and I plan to make donations to the following organizations in mom’s memory: Mom lived at Providence Marianwood for the final nine months of her life.  The level of care and compassion she received was simply outstanding. Swedish Medical Center is where mom first learned of her liver disease.  She spent a week in the hospital, including three days in the ICU.  But, mom and James had only been back in the states for a week.  They did not have jobs.  They did not have insurance.  There was no way for them to repay Swedish for services rendered.  Swedish Charity Care paid for everything. While mom did not benefit directly from the work of the American Liver Foundation, we hope that others will. Rest in peace, mom.  We love you.  We'll miss you.  We'll see you when our times come.