Carole Kanny, my mom, passed away on the morning of April 4th, 2020. She went peacefully and without pain. Carole was 66 years old.
⚠️ Since many have asked: It was not COVID-19 related.
“I have a brain injury, what’s your excuse?”
Carole Kanny, my mom, passed away on the morning of April 4th, 2020. She went peacefully and without pain. Carole was 66 years old.
People who don’t know my mother, or her story, will think that 66 is tragically young for someone to pass away. But, for those of us that know her, we know that she cheated death and stole an extra 22 years for herself.
The accident she endured on my last day of high school was the start of a 22 year phase in her life marked by occasional bouts of happiness, laughter and positive moments in the midst of an otherwise immense amount of struggle.
My relationship with my mother was complicated for these past 22 years. The traumatic brain injury she suffered changed her dramatically from the woman I knew for the first 18 years of my life. For a little over the last 10 years, I’d been doing my best to take care of my mother and handle her affairs.
To say this was a thankless job would be quite the understatement. She was extremely difficult but I knew behind all of that screaming was still the woman who would refer to herself as a “mother cougar” (or mother lion or grizzly bear) who would “rip someone’s face off if they messed with me (Jeff).”
I’m thankful to all of my mom’s friends, and all of the aides and caregivers who told me the nice things my mother would say about me when I wasn’t around. I’m grateful for that because without those little bits of encouragement I’m not sure how I would’ve managed all of it. Those who knew my mom after the accident know that she could be a handful at times…to put it mildly. From what I understand, before the accident, she could be quite a handful as well.
I don’t know an awful lot about my mother before I was born so I’ll leave the bigger story about her for others who knew her then to tell. But I’ll summarize what I do know.
My mother was born to Oscar and Marjorie Kanny in 1953. She was the second child arriving 5 years and 364 days after her older brother Mark. She grew up in Manhattan, she went to Bronx Science. Her mother was an artist and while Mom swore she didn’t have an artistic bone in her body, that’s only because of a categorization error…mom was a great writer.
In 1964, my mother won an essay contest for a piece called Four Freedoms, a Tribute to John F Kennedy.
My mother was also a prolific poet. In her various moves from place to place, I came upon boxes and boxes of her writing. She had stacks of saved emails, notes, journals and poems. A lot of it was WAY out there, but the majority of her writing revealed a person with intensity, passion, and thoughtfulness. Mom wrote from the depths of her soul about anything and everything as a way to let her heart cry out. She wrote after her mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease, she wrote about love, and she wrote about identity and feminism. She wrote about everything and anything she was feeling and she did it with the spirit and soul of a poet.
I can’t say for sure whether I got my love of writing from my mother or whether it’s just something we had in common, but the written word will be something that I plan to keep in our family for generations.
My mother and father got married in 1973 and I didn’t come around until 1980.
Obviously, this is where we get to the part of the story that I’m more familiar with.
I remember all sorts of bits and pieces from my childhood.
- I remember how my mom and I both loved Pistachio ice cream from Carvel.
- I remember how my mom and I would bake cookies together every Christmas.
- I remember watching movies in the livingroom and my mom and I imitating the characters and repeating lines from our favorite movies.
- I remember my mom laughing to the point of tears watching the same Jackie Mason standup routine.
It was at this early stage in my life where I learned to do impressions and imitations. I would try to make my parents laugh whenever I could.
I remember going into the city with my parents, and for those who live outside of New York “The City” is New York City. I’ve been living in Philadelphia now for 22 years, 4 years longer than I was in NY but because of mom, no other city can ever be called “The City.” Mom was a true Manhattanite. You know, the really obnoxious ones. The ones who go on and on about how great New York City is.
“We got the best pizza, the best bagels, the best theater, etc
Even though I grew up on Long Island, my mother was so Pro-NYC that I considered myself a New Yorker by birthright. Mom’s love for the city was infectious and to this day, I owe my hatred of the suburbs to her entirely. If I’ve ever insulted any of your neighborhoods and homes because it’s not in the city, now you know why. I’m grateful that she made me this way.
My parents split up around the time that I was 9-10 and in 1992 my mother got remarried.
Gil had two children of his own: Scott and Bonnie. These became my first step-siblings…a major adjustment for this only child.
From everything I saw and knew, my mom LOVED being a step-mom–even though she would refer to herself jokingly as the “evil step-mom.”
In marrying Gil, she not only found a new love in her life but a whole new family, something I think she desperately wanted more of. As someone with a small immediate family, I can sympathize. Thankfully, my wife has an enormous family though I’m sad that my mom never got to meet them.
Mom and Gil travelled extensively together seeing most of Europe, Scandanavia, Russia, Alaska, and countless of tropical islands. Mom had always loved food and in Gil she found a partner to explore any and all sushi restaurants, Indian food, Thai food and whatever else they could find.
Mom and Gil moved to Port Washington and she quickly settled in to a new life on the North Shore of Long Island. Even though she would poke fun at many of the wealthy people in the area, it was obvious that she really appreciated our new upscale suburban environment. She liked the nice shops, the nice restaurants, and the cute Main street.
This was my home throughout junior high school and high school.On my last day of high school, my mother was in an accident with GOD (Guaranteed Overnight Delivery). The trailer of the trucker fishtailed on Plandome road and completely obliterated her Jeep Grand Cherokee.
This was the day everything changed for mom.
999 out of a 1,000 crashes like that would almost certainly kill someone. My mom was the 1. The majority of the people who survive a crash like she did would never walk again, maybe never talk again, possibly never even wake up from the coma.
Mom did.
It’s safe to say that my mom was a fighter and not only did she survive, her recovery was remarkable.
That said, her life would never be the same after that. Mom suffered a traumatic brain injury from the crash, damaging her frontal lobe. Damages to this part of the brain can lead to:
- Sudden changes in behavior, including aggression;
- Impaired moral judgment;
- Memory loss;
- Reduced motor skills and spatial reasoning;
- Declining intelligence;
- Inability to understand/interpret social cues;
Prior to the accident, my mom was getting her Masters degree at Fordham University in Social Work. She wanted to become a geriatric social worker and help people and their families cope with aging and improve quality of life.
Unfortunately after the accident, she couldn’t keep up with the program. My mom who used to love to read would pick up a book, read a page, put it down and walk away. Her attention was scattered and she had trouble focusing.
The remarkable writing ability that mom used to have was slowly replaced with lengthy, angry emails, and texts, or long, rambling diatribes or random lists of memories.
Her mood changed drastically and she became much more paranoid and aggressive. My mom who was already a talker, lost the “off” button, and no longer understood boundaries.
Some friends fell off, some she cast as enemies but few bore this brunt of her anger worse than Gil. Gil, her husband who watched his wife suffer an absolutely catastrophic car accident, who made sure she got the best medical care and rehabilitation. Gil, who saw that the lawsuits were handled and who because of that, single-handedly gets the credit for my mom being able to afford her life for these past 22 years. Gil who stepped up in every imaginable way, was the one she hit the hardest. I’m sure, somewhere deep down, if you look underneath all of the nasty things she said about Gil in the years after the accident, I think mom knew that he came through for her. She just couldn’t control her behavior because of her injury.
So, for what it’s worth Gil: Thank you. You’re a mensch and you did right by mom. I can’t even imagine what that must’ve been like for you. I know you loved my mom for her mind, and it’s tragic that it was her mind that was the most injured.
From 2004 until 2011, mom lived on her own, first in Manhattan and then moving back to Great Neck. She struggled but even being able to care for herself at all during that time is a remarkable achievement given her injury. I can’t remember exactly when she started using a walker, but I remember walking with her and it would take 15 minutes for her to walk a full block, and in NY and Great Neck, she would walk 1/2 mile to get food and groceries. There was simply no quit in that woman.
While mom missed my high school graduation, for obvious reasons, I’m happy that she was able to attend my College and Graduate School graduations. I know both of those made her happy and proud. She also attended my first wedding where she had a meltdown of epic proportions right as we were about to be introduced as husband and wife. It was painful at the time but it is a one-of-a-kind memory now.
In 2011, I moved mom to Philadelphia with me with the help of my first wife Ellie. The two of us spent an obscene amount hours moving her to Philly. The round trip drive alone was 6 hours. Ellie was an amazing partner during that time and I’ll be forever grateful for all of the sacrifices she made for my mom…perhaps most importantly, actually reading mom’s texts and responding sometimes. That in itself is a Herculean task.
Once mom got to Philadelphia her condition gradually got worse over time. Even though it was a losing game, I still always tried to do the best I could to make sure she had what she need
ed. While it was tough, I do want to share some things that I got out of the entire experience of caring for my mom.
- I learned patience
- Love
Mom wasn’t always easy, but she was also injured, and I know underneath all of her nastiness was a woman who loved me until the ends of the Earth. So, I put up with all of it. Because the one commandment my mom always hammered home was “honor thy mother and father” and while I’m not at all religious, I do believe that you have to take care of your family.
I’m sad that she didn’t get to meet her granddaughter Aubrey but I am happy that she got to meet my wife Erica.
I learned a lot from my mom, more than I’ve probably ever given her credit for.
- I’m a city person because of her.
- I get much of my sense of humor from her and it’s mostly because of her why I’m able to do impressions.
- I share a love of writing, just like my mom.
- I am a fighter, a survivor, and someone who will not quit, because of and just like my mom.
I will miss my mother, but she won’t be forgotten. I’ll probably quote her forever, and I’ll never stop making her famous spaghetti with clam sauce.
I hope that as time goes on, the fog of these last 20 years lifts and I’m able to remember even more of the things I loved about my mom, things I may have forgotten amidst the trauma of being an only child caregiver. If I can do that, I hope all of you that knew her, and maybe had the misfortune of being on her bad side one day, can also let all of those bad memories fade away. Remember her laugh. Remember her smile. Remember her crystal blue eyes. Remember her passion and charisma.
My mom was a good woman, who got a raw deal, but she handled it like a fucking champ.
I also wanted to offer one more thing. If anyone out there is dealing with Elder care, I have learned a lot about this world. I’m happy to be a resource for you if you need it.
