Melissa Carol Donnell

Melissa Carol Donnell was born on October 16th, 1952. She grew up in California and lived there most of her life. She went to college at UCSD for biology and became a Product Marketing Manager for many different companies. She had one daughter, Elizabeth (myself), who she loved very much. For the last 6 years of her life, she moved out to Georgia to live closer to family. She loved to travel with her family. She planned many trips across the country and to Europe. She also loved her dogs: Becky, Beverly, and Kate. She always loved the ocean, even though sometimes it was a bit cold for her. She also supported her daughters horse habit and rode a couple of horses even though she was very allergic to them. My Mother, Melissa, was a loving and caring woman, but she could also be very difficult. I have had trouble thinking about what to write for her obituary since we had a difficult relationship, and it wasn’t because I didn’t love her. I did. She was just a difficult person to love, and because of that, I had to keep my distance from her for the last years of her life. I have spent the last several weeks talking to various people about my mother. Some people knew her in high school, some knew her during her working life, some knew her as a romantic partner, some knew her as a close friend, and others knew her as family. It has been a mixed bag in the reactions I have gotten in telling people about her death. Some have cried and will miss her greatly, while others have felt a great sigh of relief from the torture that she has put them through over the years. Originally, when I heard she was going to pass, I thought I was one of the ones who would feel a great sigh of relief, but in the past couple of weeks, I realized I am really going to miss the sweet, loving caring side of my mother who loved me with all of her heart. When I first heard that my mother was passing, I decided I was going to fly out and see her. I imagined that I was going to hold her hand and tell her how much I loved her as she took her final breath. A dream way to go – surrounded by love. Unfortunately for everyone, my mother likes to make things a little more difficult. She flat-out refused to leave the ICU for hospice and refused to provide any information on any bank accounts or bills that needed to be paid. I went to her apartment, and there were papers in piles and boxes full of unopened letters dating back to 2018. There was stuff everywhere, and I only had a couple of days to handle it since I live in California and she lived in Georgia. I called up my dad, who flew out to help me with the moving of my mother’s apartment while I helped transition her into hospice. The next couple of days were a nightmare. My mother wasn’t on medications that helped her anxiety so she was mean to most of the nurses and picking fights with me and other loved ones left and right. My dream of holding my mother's hand while she passed was quickly replaced with me trying to run out of her room and wanting to go back and hide in California. When I wasn’t hiding behind the nurses at the hospice, I was cleaning out her apartment. Her apartment was full of papers, clothes (both new and used), and junk. There were large piles of new clothes everywhere with tags still on them, and new gadgets and new jewelry. I would sigh in disgust while I was cleaning up her place because of all of the stuff she had in her house. Stuff that I had no idea what to do with since she refused to let me help her out with it all while she was still able to make decisions. Then one evening after cleaning my mother's place all morning, and visiting my mother all afternoon, my father said something that I will never forget – “Liz, cleaning out her place is really hard, but as I was cleaning, I noticed she was really trying hard to find happiness.” That comment hit me hard. I looked around my mother's place and I noticed pictures of her family – our family around the bedroom. Pictures of her mother, and paintings from her grandmother. Most of the furniture was furniture that held memories for her. They were furniture from my childhood and some were from her grandmother’s house that triggered happy memories for her. Books that were in her family for years on the bookshelves along with small glass figures that had once been on her dresser as a child, and then were on mine until I moved out. She had positive quotes on her fridge and books on how to be happy on her bookshelf. I am not sure if she ever read them, but buying them meant she wanted to start trying to find happiness. She had gifts for people for Christmas already, and she had piles of needlepoint Christmas stockings that she loved to attempt to make for people. She always shopped for clothes to make herself look nice and hopefully feel nice. She just wanted to be happy, like we all do. Unfortunately for her, she had trouble figuring out how to be happy and how to stay happy. She loved her family so much, but she couldn’t figure out a healthy way to be in their lives. The next morning, I went to see my mother at the hospice. Fortunately, the nurses had figured out the right combination of medication to give her to allow her to be her calm and loving self. I apologized to my mother and told her that I was sorry we couldn’t always get along. She smiled and said “Liz, I always loved you. Even when you weren’t there, I always loved you.” That conversation was the best conversation we had in the past 10 years. I had only seen my mother 3 times in the past 6 years, and that trip out to Georgia to say goodbye was one of the three times. As I left that evening, she told me “Liz, I will never forget this day. Thank you” The next couple of days she wasn’t as coherent, and eventually the doctors told me that she would most likely want to pass while I wasn’t there. Apparently, there are people who do not like to pass in front of others. Looking back, I can see that for my mother. She always liked to appear strong in front of everyone and never wanted to look like she couldn’t manage everyone and everything. Additionally, she HATED looking weak in front of her daughter. I celebrated her final birthday with her and then I said my goodbyes, and she said “I’ll see you later” not realizing that it would be the last time I would see her. Over the next few days, she slowly drifted away. I called again on the last day to say goodbye, but at that point, she couldn’t talk. She passed away on October 20th, 4 days after her 71st birthday. So now that she is gone, I can finally say – Mom, I hope you have found peace. I hope that you feel no pain, and have no more worries. I want you to know that your daughter is safe and loved. I have a wonderful family with a daughter named Sydney and a son named Thomas. My husband, Chris, loves me and takes care of me. I hope you are looking down on us lovingly and are finding joy in watching over your grandchildren. Then to all of her friends and family that have helped me in the past couple of weeks. Thank you. Thank you for loving and taking care of my mother when I could not. Thank you for showing her love and kindness through her difficulties. Thank you for giving her happiness and good memories. I have been looking through her pictures, and she looked happy in the final years of her life, and I owe that to all of you. Lastly, I hope my mother has found the happiness and peace she has craved for all of her life. I will miss you and I will always wish that things were different. Goodbye, Melissa Carol Donnell, love your Daughter, Elizabeth The family will have a private ceremony to spread her ashes in Laguna Beach, California at an undisclosed date. Laguna Beach was an area she loved to spend time at as a young girl. In lieu of flowers, please support any foundation for mental illness. Mental illness is tough on the entire family, not just the sufferers.