Friday, May 6, 2011

Remembering a Treasured Aunt 10 Years Later

Helen T. Fabis
March 1, 1914 - April 30, 2001

May 6, 2011

Dear Aunt Helen,

My Shining Star. You are a treasure, my inspiration and motivation, all I do is in memory and honor of you.

The beginning of our relationship, the special bond between Godmother and Goddaughter began at my beginning, my Baptism, growing stronger and deeper each year. As a young child and throughout my adult life, I was greatly influenced by you, what I saw in you, especially your love of family and the close relationship between you and Mom.

It’s hard for me to believe it’s been 10 long years since Cynthia and I last saw you. We miss you. I miss you so very much, spending time with you, wishing we could pick up where we left off, our lively conversations, talking on the phone, catching up on family matters, our latest sewing projects, your displeasure at how difficult it was to find “Made in USA” labels on clothing and your favorite subjects, politics and current affairs.

Your wise and caring words are always with me, I can hear you saying it now, all people have a beginning and an end. It’s what you do in the middle that matters most.

You had a kind word for and about everyone, always in the background, never wanting recognition or any special attention of importance. You were and still are a very important person, the core, the heart and soul of our family, loved by everyone who knew you and many more who knew of you.

Always soft spoken, considerate, the caregiver for your aging ailing parents; memories of you as a hard working business woman, a 1940’s entrepreneur who drove a car, a fashion designer and gifted seamstress and so much more. Warm memories of you and Uncle Wally dancing in your living room, celebrating your ultimate design achievement, you finished sewing my wedding dress. You were glowing, we had completed the final alterations, my wedding dress ensemble was complete, mission accomplished.

I wish I knew. No one could have warned us or predicted the future, the torment of the last days of your life, your unnatural death that forever changed my life. We couldn’t rescue you. The way your life ended was the end of my life as I knew it, the day you left us was a new beginning, leading me in a very different direction on a mission that directs and drives me to this day.

On the last day of your life, I saw a Catholic Nun getting on an elevator, seeing her was a sign for me to call for a priest. I hope your remember Father Mike, he was the last person to see you. He is the Catholic priest from St Stephens Parish that answered my urgent call for a Priest to come to see you. I called the Rectory nearest the nursing home. Father Mike was just about to sit down to eat his dinner. I told him about you, how you were being treated, forced to go without food and water, you were in a great deal of pain, getting weaker, barely struggling to survive. He promised me that he would leave immediately to comfort and bless you, he kept his promise.

I know what you’re thinking, yes, I did send him a thank you letter with a generous donation expressing our deep appreciation for being there for you. Since that time, Father Mike was transferred to my parish, he is our new Pastor only a few blocks from our house.

And, there’s more, on November 17, 2007 Cynthia and I went to St John Berchman’s School 100 year Anniversary celebration Mass and grand reception of an all class reunion in the Church hall where alumni gathered with their graduating class for buffet dinner while catching up and reminiscing with former classmates and teachers.

All of a sudden, I couldn’t believe my eyes there he was, standing at our table, it was Father Mike, I did not know we went to school together, or knew each other, we were in the same graduation class. Seeing him took me back in time firing up all of my emotions, taking me back to place and time to April 30, 2001. It was as if everyone vanished, no one else was in that room with us. Who could have known all those years ago, we were all together at St. Johns Berchman’s Church when Mike and I received our diplomas.

All of us in the family have changed; we are very different now, we view life through different, untrusting eyes. I can only hope and pray that you understand, I did my best. I needed to protect you as much as possible from hearing upsetting news. You asked me so many questions, you wanted to know where your stuff was, you wanted your own radio, your old clock, photos of Uncle Wally, your clothes and pajamas, it upset me to know you hated what you were wearing, you knew something very bad happened to you at that house. I promised you that the family would unite, Ed and I would not stop until we discovered the truth, what happened to you and then we would hunt down everyone who hurt you.

I noticed from our first trips to the hospital up North, you never referred to ‘her’ by name, your temporary guardian’s name. You asked me many times, who is ‘she’? Why is ‘she’ here? Why is ‘she’ making decisions for you. You wanted ‘her’ gone out of your life but there was nothing we could do, we were powerless, I didn’t have any rights to help you or to complain.

As hard as I try, I cannot recover from what I witnessed. It is impossible to forget or to erase those heart wrenching memories, the visions, I can hear you, I can feel you and see you, confused, afraid and frail in that stripped down Medicare room, so weakened by medications, the psychotropic drugs that further damaged your mind and your body.

When you were transferred to Illinois, I visited you every day, suddenly there was a drastic change, you weren’t allowed in the dining room for your meals, no food was brought to your room, I was shocked at the cruel treatment of what the temporary guardian called Hospice care that was forced on you. I didn’t understand why, why now? I thought guardianship is supposed to protect you from harm. I thought Hospice care was compassionate care, comfort care. What I didn’t know and found out later we were deceived; Hospice care for you was a code word meaning elimination of the problem by prolonged death by starvation and dehydration, their method of hastening your death.

‘She’ came by the day you died, I remember ‘she’ looked you over, telling me that any funeral plans would be on hold because ‘she’ was having surgery and there wasn’t any money for a funeral anyway. ‘She’ left you slumped over in your wheelchair, and then ‘she’ was gone.

Cynthia was here for several days trying to get you some relief. She was doing her best pleading for help from the staff to get permission to order the antibiotic medications that you needed with our promise to pay. You were too weak to hold your head up, Cynthia and I wanted them to stop torturing you, she was pleading for help from the staff, to help us get you out of your wheelchair, you needed to be lying down in your bed.

You were too weak to hold your head up, Cynthia and I wanted them to stop torturing you. I was holding your head up while Cynthia was pleading for help from the staff, trying to get medications for you, someone, anyone to help us get you out of your wheelchair and put you in your bed.

No one came to help us, it seemed like an eternity. You were slumped over in your wheelchair, in agony, pleading with me, holding me, too weak to speak but only a word or two, silently screaming, pointing to your mouth to give you water.

I was in a state of panic, doing my best to stay strong for you, acting as if everything will be alright, trying to hold myself together, I was so upset and beside myself at the horror of watching you struggle and suffer. I found a water glass, I did give you a few sips of water, you were able to swallow without any problems, you wanted more; I gave you more, you were so thirsty you were pulling on the glass, water was spilling on the floor.

I would have given you as much water as you could handle, but I couldn’t, I was in serious trouble, when a member of the staff walked into your room and saw what I had done. She was angry at me, she told me to get rid of the water, one warning, go along with the plan or else. Orders were, you were allowed to have only one or two drops of water from an eye dropper.

We were desperate, stopping their plan was hopeless, we knew there was nothing more we could do to give you any relief, we had pushed our limits, if we had disobeyed their orders, their Hospice plan, one wrong move would have me and Cynthia forcibly and permanently removed from your room.

Mercifully, Father Mike comforted and blessed you; your final days of suffering were over.

I kept my promise to you with support and extraordinary assistance from Ed along with Attorneys Frank Jablonksi and David Sparer. the family united. We became your voice, with the help of an army of soldiers from the Wisconsin Attorney General’s Office fighting for you - as if you were their treasured Aunt too.

We were determined to hold “her” accountable, and we did. “She” went to jail, Aunt Helen, for what “she” did to you. At “her” sentencing, the Judge admonished “her” as “she” stood there with “her” head down: "The funds should have been used for her (Helen Fabis) benefit, but you used them for your benefit...You took money from someone who could not protect herself. You were supposed to protect her...We as a people will be judged by how we treat the least in our society and those who cannot help themselves."

Justice was served that day and we were so glad. But what we wanted – and what I still want – is you.

We miss you, we love you, we are eternally grateful for the short time we had together.

All my love,

Sylvia

See Also:
Estate of Helen Fabis vs. William Skibbe et al;
Dane County Case Number 2002CV003962


Great Escapes: "Woman Sentenced for Swindling Great-Aunt"

20 comments:

  1. Sylvia,

    Thank you for sharing your fond memories of your dear Aunt. My heart goes out to you and your family. The pain they put your Aunt through is unforgivable.

    My Grandmother died in a nursing home on April 19th. She, too, suffered at the hands of the nursing home staff. Dehydration, starvation and pain medication given based on the whim of the nurse on duty. When I begged them to give her something for her pain, they threatened to make me leave if I asked them again.

    My Grandmother was also a victim of conservator abuse. She had two conservators. I pray the "he" and "she" that tormented my Grandmother are brought to justice.

    My Grandmother's worst fear was to die in a nursing home. There was absolutely no valid medical reason for them to keep her there. She had more than enough money to cover in home 24 hour care. I begged them to let her go home but they refused.

    I stayed at the nursing home 24 hours a day over a six day period because I could not let her die alone.

    While with my Grandmother at the nursing home, I witnessed things that I will never forget.

    Fortunately, I have years of wonderful memories of our special relationship to comfort me. Like you and your Aunt, my Grandmother and I had a very special bond which is something these people cannot comprehend.

    Thank you again for sharing your story.

    Lori DeMartini

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  2. Our aunt died within a year of a stroke. The only real result of the guardianship was total use of the assets by the guardian and his lawyer. But knowing what I do about the physical abuse of others,
    I am driven to continue fighting the evils of guardianship. You did the most important thing by pursuing criminal punishment for your perp.

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  3. I am fortunate that my Aunts are alive and healthy. This letter reiterates to me just how fortunate I am.

    Lori DeMartini, I am sorry you lost your Aunt. I remember seeing a NASGA post about her a week or so ago. She was a beautiful woman and the heart and soul you put into your website showed you treasured everything about her.

    I hope you are a member of NASGA.

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  4. Thank you for sharing this heartfelt letter to your precious aunt.

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  5. Water delivered in drops by an eye dropper? Never heard of such barbaric way to treat a human being. Thanks for the warning.

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  6. Your tribute to your wonderful aunt made me cry.

    The pain we feel because of what we have endured will never go away.

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  7. Dear Sylvia,
    On May 9, 2011, a few of us, collateral victims, the men and women who are fighting to save our loved ones lives -- who have risked everything to fight the courts and forced guardianships, are honored to be the voices of all of us. We want the abuse to stop, but first we must have our voices heard -- because if we fall, then like your Aunt, our loved ones will be a statistic. Although I am very happy that you found justice (your story brought tears to my eyes), I don't my mother my mother to die. I want justice while she is alive and given the opportunity to return to her home, the people she lived, and the community where she once thrives. You were at least blessed to be able to visit with your loved one. I can't, and so many of us can't. So I and a few other collateral victims are going to Washington DC and our voice will be heard, if just by one good person, willing to listen and help us bring our mothers, fathers, aunts, husbands, wives, sisters brothers... home. xo Gloria Jean Sykes

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  8. Starving and dehydrating a person to death is nothing less than torture. It reminds me of Terri Schiavo and the lawyer for Michael Schiavo speaking to the press saying Terri looked great and was happy to finally get her wish. Makes me sick to think of it.

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  9. Barbarians! Imagine how it would feel to be so parched and have only a drop of water.

    I try to live a Christian life and not wish what happened to your aunt on anyone else, but I find myself doing just that. I wish the people who did this to her were starved and dehydrated to near death. God help me.

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  10. One day on a visit to the nursing home where my father was, I found a nurse-aide force feeding him, and raised holy hell.

    Not long after, he died of a sudden
    heart attack. That was 34 years ago.

    Today is his birthday.

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  11. I can imagine how hard this letter was to write. I appreciate it. Your story speaks for so many.

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  12. Sylvia,

    Your story is unfortunate and I feel that this type of abuse occurs more often than what everyone is willing to admit. I am so sorry for your lose, my heart goes out to you and your family. Thank you for your courage to validate the abuse that can happen with guardianship.

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  13. I am sorry for the loss of your beloved aunt. Did you try suing the hospital?

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  14. My father was in the hospital in serious circumstances and I called for a priest (it was a Catholic hospital) and one came and he was wearing a golf outfit. I asked him to change because my father is used to the old order and he'd had a stroke so likely wouldn't recognize the priest in the golf outfit. He said no. I've never felt the same about priests after that. Your story of Father Mike makes me feel much better. Thank you.

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  15. Lori DeMartini, I am sorry for your loss.

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  16. Aunts are so special. The love and longing for your aunt is very well expressed.

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  17. To All:

    Thank you so very much for your comments and for sharing your memories of your loved ones.

    I appreciate your comforting words and thoughts.

    Lori DeMartini I am so sorry for your recent loss of your Grandmother. I know how you feel helpless and powerless being forced to witness the taking of a life of a loved one with threat of escorting you out. Your Grandmother felt your love; she knows that you were with her until the end.

    Gloria I know how you feel; I pray that your mother is released to you very soon. I know you are working at this non-stop, in a raging war, going through hell on earth. I wish you the very best success in Washington DC; I have a feeling you will be heard.

    Another very disturbing situation, I have my Aunt's nursing home records. Anyone reading the entries would think my Aunt died peacefully in her sleep. I cannot stress strongly enough or describe my feelings when I read the last entries of her records. LIES LIES LIES this is how they get away with their crimes.

    I think this is a very important issue that shows collusion by so many, the nursing facility withholding information, concealing their part in this wrongdoing for their records.

    The administrator at the nursing facility told me I was wasting my time, no one will come; they never respond.

    I am eternally grateful for Father Mike's compassion for my Aunt's dire situation. His immediate response to my request was a tremendous help to our family knowing how important his presence was to my Aunt during her last hour of life.

    Thank you.

    Sylvia

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  18. Sylvia--Reading your story brought out the anger I feel every day when I think of my friend John Figg-Hoblyn (story on NASGA website).
    When you are reunited with your Aunt in the new system of things, think of the joy of making up for lost time in evil free environment.

    Ron Libert

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  19. Sylvia-

    This is a painful reminder of what was, and is still going on ... my heart goes out to you, and to everyone else who has been forced to endured such psychological and/ or physical torture. The Miami Herald is doing a series on elder abuse-- let's hope that someone actually picks up on the issue and follows up on all of the cases NASGA has exposed...My mother Estela Torrent was also forced into a guardianship nightmare-- as you know she just passed this last February 2011 here in Miami, Florida under the guardianship and jurisdiction of the Administrative Judge Maria M. Korvick, who orchestrated the entired ordeal... mother was left an indigent, but I was lucky to have been appointed her legal guardian AFTER they took everything mother owned; mother lost her sight due to a medical "mismanagement" under the "watchful eye" of the professional court appointed guardian...yes, mother is now finally free! thank you for sharing your memories -- Maritza Torrent --

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