I am so tired right now that I can hardly function. The telephone started at shortly after 9 a.m. and has punctuated the day. I was glad to hear from everyone who called but not able to function as well as I will when I have had some rest. I napped between calls until about 11:30 when I decided I was more hungry than sleepy. Friends who have brought by already prepared food and snacks are a real Godsend. I don't feel like cooking.
We are making plans for the service. I think it will be very nice and that she would approve. Rather than gloom and doom, we are going for something with a positive message. And I have to note that thinking about the service has been good comfort "therapy" yesterday and today. It doesn't take my full faculties to leaf through the hymnbook and think about music she would like or that might be comforting to those of us who are left. I spent part of yesterday selecting scriptural passages that I thought fitting. I choose to include one that my father helped me to memorize years ago because it became special to us. I recited it at a church service that recognized the study and work of members of the Girls Auxiliary of the Woman's Missionary Union, Mom was GA director at the time. It's a long passage and it took me some time to master it. After that, whenever we heard it, it was like a private signal between us reminding us of that time in our life before we lost my dad.
Bill used to be my "next door neighbor" at school. His office was next to mine as I was one of those invasive members of the communication arts department who were sprinkled throughout Fulton Hall in the midst of other departmental offices. I was surrounded by the music department of which he is a faculty member. He's arranging the music for the service so I know it will be lovely. My neighbor, Ruth, who works for the school board is reading a poem by John Donne and another former neighbor, who still works at the church office on the other side of me is going to read that special passage of scripture. There's no one left but me who would fully understand the significance of that passage to our family, so that's something that is just for me.
Two of my former students, and close personal friends, are preparing Mom's Eulogy. I am thrilled. I know that it will be lovely and that it will strike just the right note. One of them was her regular Tuesday night sitter when I was still teaching and they became very fond of one another. The other student is possibly a distant relative of Mom (but we claim her regardless) and on a couple of occasions when she spent time with Mom, she got to hear tales of Mom's life as a child that including living on Assateague Island, very near when this student now lives at Chincoteague. Mom went to school to hear their research presentation at the Undergraduate Research Conference and thought that they were very special, which they are.
I've had condolences from folks who knew Mom and others who only know me but know about the role she played in my life. Those have meant a great deal to me. The ones that came via email I will have to print out and save. Some of them are just lovely. Knowing what her life and personality meant to others is a great comfort.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Mom has been wanting to "go home" for months, and now she has. I'm more tired than anything else right now. I have grieved for the past week because I knew it was coming. Now we can both rest.
Pennagal
Obituary
Frances ---------, 86, died yesterday at her home in Salisbury from complications of Alzheimer’s.
------------- was born near Snow Hill in 1921 and was the daughter of Samuel --------- and Daisey ----------. Her husband Vaughn --------- died in 1971.
Surviving are her daughter, Ann ------, a nephew, Edward -------., both of Salisbury, and honorary daughter, Mary -------- of Williamstown, PA. She also leaves a brother, Samuel -----------, of Salisbury, and a nephew, Kenneth ------- of Brick, NJ, six grandnieces and three grandnephews and two great-grandnieces and several cousins. Her brother, Edward --------, and her nephew, Samuel -------, preceded her in death.
When she was active, she volunteered many hours to church and charity work. For several years, she co-wrote a cooking column with her daughter in Rural Living Magazine. She made a home for both her parents in their final years. Many Salisbury residents will remember waving to her while she worked in her Newtown garden.
A celebration of her life will be held on Saturday, May 24 at ---------- in Salisbury at 3 p.m. Friends may call an hour before the service.
Pennagal
Obituary
Frances ---------, 86, died yesterday at her home in Salisbury from complications of Alzheimer’s.
------------- was born near Snow Hill in 1921 and was the daughter of Samuel --------- and Daisey ----------. Her husband Vaughn --------- died in 1971.
Surviving are her daughter, Ann ------, a nephew, Edward -------., both of Salisbury, and honorary daughter, Mary -------- of Williamstown, PA. She also leaves a brother, Samuel -----------, of Salisbury, and a nephew, Kenneth ------- of Brick, NJ, six grandnieces and three grandnephews and two great-grandnieces and several cousins. Her brother, Edward --------, and her nephew, Samuel -------, preceded her in death.
When she was active, she volunteered many hours to church and charity work. For several years, she co-wrote a cooking column with her daughter in Rural Living Magazine. She made a home for both her parents in their final years. Many Salisbury residents will remember waving to her while she worked in her Newtown garden.
A celebration of her life will be held on Saturday, May 24 at ---------- in Salisbury at 3 p.m. Friends may call an hour before the service.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Laughter is Good Medicine
It's good to laugh. It releases endorphins that enhance your mood in a positive way. And through all this, we have laughed.
The minister who will conduct Mom's service knew both my parents and we were musing about how long she had been a widow. "She never remarried?" he said. So I told him the true story of the old widowers at the church who tried to court Mom after dad died. And how she gently but firmly declined their advances. She told me once, that she would never find another man who would put up with her like my dad, and then added, with a twinkle in her eye, that if she got hooked up with some old geezer and he ticked her off, she'd hate to have to shoot him. Now that is the God's honest, truth so no wonder my support group friends describe her as feisty!
And we enjoyed another joke today. When everyone was here cleaning and neatening on Saturday they discovered a giant economy-sized box of oatmeal was "leaking" flakes of oats. When I took it out of the bag, I discovered this but I put it on the shelf intending to transfer it to the one I had almost emptied (I'm trying to lower my cholesterol before I get blood work done). The crew -- I had gone on a work-related errand -- decided to toss it, not realizing I had just brought it home from the store. So I looked in vain for it on Sunday and finally called Ed to see if he knew what happened to it. He was working outside but shouted an explanation to his wife who relayed it to me and we made a joke of it.
I confess that the more I told it, the funnier it seemed. People come over and tell you they are going to help you straighten things up and they throw out your oatmeal. So I shared it with my cousins who came to visit today and one brought me oatmeal when she returned later in the day to visit with another cousin who was coming. When Ed came over tonight, he brought a box, too, saying his wife told him he better replace it since he's the one who threw it out. So we have all laughed about the oatmeal today and it will no doubt become a family story that we share as the years go by.
Not everything that's going on is funny but we haven't lost our sense of humor. It's part of what makes us human. And Mom would have laughed with us if she could.
The minister who will conduct Mom's service knew both my parents and we were musing about how long she had been a widow. "She never remarried?" he said. So I told him the true story of the old widowers at the church who tried to court Mom after dad died. And how she gently but firmly declined their advances. She told me once, that she would never find another man who would put up with her like my dad, and then added, with a twinkle in her eye, that if she got hooked up with some old geezer and he ticked her off, she'd hate to have to shoot him. Now that is the God's honest, truth so no wonder my support group friends describe her as feisty!
And we enjoyed another joke today. When everyone was here cleaning and neatening on Saturday they discovered a giant economy-sized box of oatmeal was "leaking" flakes of oats. When I took it out of the bag, I discovered this but I put it on the shelf intending to transfer it to the one I had almost emptied (I'm trying to lower my cholesterol before I get blood work done). The crew -- I had gone on a work-related errand -- decided to toss it, not realizing I had just brought it home from the store. So I looked in vain for it on Sunday and finally called Ed to see if he knew what happened to it. He was working outside but shouted an explanation to his wife who relayed it to me and we made a joke of it.
I confess that the more I told it, the funnier it seemed. People come over and tell you they are going to help you straighten things up and they throw out your oatmeal. So I shared it with my cousins who came to visit today and one brought me oatmeal when she returned later in the day to visit with another cousin who was coming. When Ed came over tonight, he brought a box, too, saying his wife told him he better replace it since he's the one who threw it out. So we have all laughed about the oatmeal today and it will no doubt become a family story that we share as the years go by.
Not everything that's going on is funny but we haven't lost our sense of humor. It's part of what makes us human. And Mom would have laughed with us if she could.
Gasping for Air
I woke with a start before light this morning. Mom’s breathing had changed. She was breathing through her mouth and it was wide open. The sound was louder and even though I was in the next room sleeping in my La-Z-Boy, I heard it. I went in to check on her and she was breathing evenly but it appeared to be labored. I moistened one of those swabs and did her lips and teeth and put salve on them. She shut her mouth, of course, the way she has been doing when presented with food or drink and when I finished, she started breathing through her mouth again.
I thought about what to do and decided it was not an emergency so I would not call anyone, although now I realize I could have. I woke again at a little after 8:20 a.m. when the phone rang – I am a very popular person because my days and nights have been so full that I have not had time (or the presence of mind) to sit down with the bills. Plus I had to close one checking account and open another and have a limited supply of checks.
I missed a small payment to Lowe’s and although I have explained this to each person from Pakistan or India who has called – they call regularly on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays between 8:15 and 8:45 -- that I have had my hands full on account of mother. On Friday, I got a bill for $61, two payments and a late fee. So we are talking about serious money here. I know Lowes is anal retentive having once been late with a $15 payment and, as a consequence, been unable to charge a can of spray paint. You know, Lowes could probably cut the price of their merchandise substantially if they were not supporting so many collections callers on the other side of the globe. When this is over, I think I will write and suggest that. Comcast, on the other hand, has called several times about a bill of $17. No one at Comcast looked at the computer record of payments and found that about every three months they get a check for $50-60 so they will go away for a while. But the last caller was someone who could think for himself; I asked what I owed and when he told me, he agreed it was just a little ridiculous to badger someone over such a piddly sum. It’s not like they have not always gotten paid. But someone else at Comcast did not get the message and called again this evening -- but I did learn that they will come and pick up the check and save me 41 cents! Hooray!
My intention was to pay the bills over the weekend but I had a crew of volunteers helping me clean and neaten the house to get ready for what’s coming. I thought the most logical thing to do was to work with them to get things in shape while I had help. They still left me with a number of half-finished tasks that only I can do and that now I have to do since they have been started. But, the place almost looks like it did when Mom kept house. And now that I can get around in my office, it will soon look like it used to, also. A student who visited me on Sunday was shocked at the mess in my office and said that the mess told her a lot because she recalls how neat and orderly my office was at school.
But I think Phyllis put it into perspective when she outlined what I HAD to do: cook, do laundry, do personal care for Mom, etc. and try to freelance so I could afford to buy groceries, that I was doing about all I could manage alone. I wish I had had so many helpers to come over the past year, maybe not all at once, but one or two at a time. Things would be in better order. And, frankly, when I had a moment or two to do anything, I cleaned the kitchen, Mom’s bedroom and bath, or I went out and weeded the flowers for a few minutes. Once in a while, I even ironed a few clothes for Mom or me. Every week, and more often in the summer, Mom got her hair washed and styled, a manicure and pedicure, a bath from skin out and we used to joke that I "anointed" her with skin lotion because her skin had become so dry. I massaged her feet and legs and we joked about the level of service she got. In the summer, she always got a second bath if not hair washed. She didn’t do much but it’s still important to feel fresh and clean. Mom has been unable to do any of that for herself for more than two years now.
She always thanked me profusely and when I was teaching, I had night classes on Tuesday and Thursday so we did baths on Tuesday and Saturday mornings. Before she graduated, Ariel came every Tuesday evening and Mom always told her she’d had her hair done and her bath -- it was a major highlight of her week. On Saturdays, we went out to eat and then to shop for groceries until it got so that Mom could not walk around the store with me. Even then, we sometimes managed by putting her in a wheel chair with a basket on it. As her condition progressed, Mom had great difficulty getting in and out of the tub and she often did not want a bath, but she put up with it and always felt better after. The “carrot” of dinner at some place where she could eat with her hands (such as Chick-Fil-A) was a suitable reward for what she had to go through. We sometimes went to IHOP but that became difficult because feeding her across the slightly too wide table or from directly beside her was difficult and she had trouble after a while not only cutting her food but managing the fork. After a time, she would opt to sit in the car while I grocery shopped, which worked until one evening she got out of the car with assistance from two total strangers -- luckily I returned to the car as they were coming from it and nipped that in the bud. I don't think they meant any harm but I felt very uncomfortable and, after that, Mom stayed at home on her own while I rushed out and shopped maybe half of my list and rushed back.
It seems to me that she went down hill very quickly. It was less than two months ago that we ate together at IHOP. I had to feed her but she ate most of her dinner. She loved pancakes with sweet stuff, syrup or cooked fruit. She was failing but she was mobile. I suppose I should be thankful that this stage is going by quickly. And the early part of the week when she refused to eat forced me to accept that she is going, and soon. “To everything there is a time and a season under heaven....”
I thought about what to do and decided it was not an emergency so I would not call anyone, although now I realize I could have. I woke again at a little after 8:20 a.m. when the phone rang – I am a very popular person because my days and nights have been so full that I have not had time (or the presence of mind) to sit down with the bills. Plus I had to close one checking account and open another and have a limited supply of checks.
I missed a small payment to Lowe’s and although I have explained this to each person from Pakistan or India who has called – they call regularly on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays between 8:15 and 8:45 -- that I have had my hands full on account of mother. On Friday, I got a bill for $61, two payments and a late fee. So we are talking about serious money here. I know Lowes is anal retentive having once been late with a $15 payment and, as a consequence, been unable to charge a can of spray paint. You know, Lowes could probably cut the price of their merchandise substantially if they were not supporting so many collections callers on the other side of the globe. When this is over, I think I will write and suggest that. Comcast, on the other hand, has called several times about a bill of $17. No one at Comcast looked at the computer record of payments and found that about every three months they get a check for $50-60 so they will go away for a while. But the last caller was someone who could think for himself; I asked what I owed and when he told me, he agreed it was just a little ridiculous to badger someone over such a piddly sum. It’s not like they have not always gotten paid. But someone else at Comcast did not get the message and called again this evening -- but I did learn that they will come and pick up the check and save me 41 cents! Hooray!
My intention was to pay the bills over the weekend but I had a crew of volunteers helping me clean and neaten the house to get ready for what’s coming. I thought the most logical thing to do was to work with them to get things in shape while I had help. They still left me with a number of half-finished tasks that only I can do and that now I have to do since they have been started. But, the place almost looks like it did when Mom kept house. And now that I can get around in my office, it will soon look like it used to, also. A student who visited me on Sunday was shocked at the mess in my office and said that the mess told her a lot because she recalls how neat and orderly my office was at school.
But I think Phyllis put it into perspective when she outlined what I HAD to do: cook, do laundry, do personal care for Mom, etc. and try to freelance so I could afford to buy groceries, that I was doing about all I could manage alone. I wish I had had so many helpers to come over the past year, maybe not all at once, but one or two at a time. Things would be in better order. And, frankly, when I had a moment or two to do anything, I cleaned the kitchen, Mom’s bedroom and bath, or I went out and weeded the flowers for a few minutes. Once in a while, I even ironed a few clothes for Mom or me. Every week, and more often in the summer, Mom got her hair washed and styled, a manicure and pedicure, a bath from skin out and we used to joke that I "anointed" her with skin lotion because her skin had become so dry. I massaged her feet and legs and we joked about the level of service she got. In the summer, she always got a second bath if not hair washed. She didn’t do much but it’s still important to feel fresh and clean. Mom has been unable to do any of that for herself for more than two years now.
She always thanked me profusely and when I was teaching, I had night classes on Tuesday and Thursday so we did baths on Tuesday and Saturday mornings. Before she graduated, Ariel came every Tuesday evening and Mom always told her she’d had her hair done and her bath -- it was a major highlight of her week. On Saturdays, we went out to eat and then to shop for groceries until it got so that Mom could not walk around the store with me. Even then, we sometimes managed by putting her in a wheel chair with a basket on it. As her condition progressed, Mom had great difficulty getting in and out of the tub and she often did not want a bath, but she put up with it and always felt better after. The “carrot” of dinner at some place where she could eat with her hands (such as Chick-Fil-A) was a suitable reward for what she had to go through. We sometimes went to IHOP but that became difficult because feeding her across the slightly too wide table or from directly beside her was difficult and she had trouble after a while not only cutting her food but managing the fork. After a time, she would opt to sit in the car while I grocery shopped, which worked until one evening she got out of the car with assistance from two total strangers -- luckily I returned to the car as they were coming from it and nipped that in the bud. I don't think they meant any harm but I felt very uncomfortable and, after that, Mom stayed at home on her own while I rushed out and shopped maybe half of my list and rushed back.
It seems to me that she went down hill very quickly. It was less than two months ago that we ate together at IHOP. I had to feed her but she ate most of her dinner. She loved pancakes with sweet stuff, syrup or cooked fruit. She was failing but she was mobile. I suppose I should be thankful that this stage is going by quickly. And the early part of the week when she refused to eat forced me to accept that she is going, and soon. “To everything there is a time and a season under heaven....”
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Death Watch
It would be disingenuous to call it anything else. We are waiting for Mom to die. She can take as LONG as she wants and I’d give anything to see her return to health but I know that is not to be. Death is a natural conclusion to a life well-lived or otherwise. And I am so thankful that we’ve been able to keep her at home. Not many people get to die in their own beds these days.
I am amazed that her body continues to function and produce waste when she has taken nothing, not even a sip of water in days. Eating stopped mid-week, the last attempt to give her a drink of water was Friday. Just running the moistened swab around her mouth yesterday dribbled enough water into her mouth to make her choke. Now I’m afraid to do much at all. I did try squeezing out all the excess moisture and cleaning her teeth with it but I was nervous about that. Ed sat with her last night so I could service a PR client (publicity for a special event) and he had the same experience.
This morning, after I changed her bed pad and propped her up a bit to take her weight off her sore, I asked her if she was comfortable and she tried to answer. I believe she knows that someone is there trying to care for her. I hope she knows it’s me. But her eyes appear not to see anything. Phyllis and Carol came to help me today to continue to neaten and clean. Each of them took turns going in to see Mom and let her know they were here.
Because death is imminent, several friends have been trying to helping me get the house in order. We've marveled that she is still breathing as she looks so small and frail now. Carol said she thinks she is waiting to die until I get the house presentable for visitors. That would be just like Mom. She would want everything to be clean.
The worst room in the house is the library, which I took over for a downstairs office about 10 years ago. I had everything I needed and a couch and chair to sit it when discussing a job with clients. But we stuck the TV in the corner in an entertainment center. When the couch became too low for Mom, she took the chair and later I got a lounge chair because I was having so much difficulty with fibromyalgia and it was a place for me to get a respite. So we had to also get rid of the small sofa. We found Mom a recliner, too, which she planted a chair in front of my filing cabinets in the office – the only place to put a chair and be able to see the TV closed up in the corner cabinet.
I protested at the time saying we should just move the TV to the living room and be sure we both had a place to sit that was comfortable for the evening but, Mom has always been the boss and she wanted to be where I was. So the office has piled up until it is truly a landfill. I couldn’t get to the filing cabinets without moving Mom and her chair and for the past three years that has not been even a temporary option.
Somewhere along the way Mom started feeding one of the cats in the office on a rolling cart under the window. That created quite a mess because cats are not fastidious eaters. They like to take food out of the dish and eat it off the floor or whatever. And if Katie Cat was hungry and we did not notice, she would smack a food dish into the floor (it didn't matter if it wasn't empty). Then she got sick and started tossing as much as she ate. To clean it up required moving Mom and the chair. When I took over feeding the cat about two years ago, I moved her feeding area back to the kitchen but the damage had been done and some of it was where I couldn’t see it unless I moved Mom out of her corner. Places like under the radiator or under the rolling cart. When I realized that crumbs of cat food had fallen into a basket of genealogy papers by the cart, I gave up trying to keep the area clean.
Truly, I did not have time. Up until a year ago, I was still working at the college. It was all I could do to keep Mom clean and in clean laundry, grocery shop and cook and feed Mom by hand for the past six months. I kept Mom’s room and her bathroom in shape, kept the kitchen clean and the dishes done. But by the time I finished that and did something to bring in a few kopeks I was pretty well done in.
About three weeks ago, I guess, Mom took to bed. I got behind the chair and picked up a lot of kitty “litter” including paper plates she had knocked behind the furniture around her eating area and removing various piles of disgusting stuff but then Mom became completely incontinent and between trying to keep current with writing assignments and keep her dry and comfortable (and until this week trying to get her to eat something), I just didn’t get back to it until today. I picked up everything I could and ran the vacuum over the remains. Now I need to scrub. But the weather is rainy and damp today and I am really hurting so I think I will try again tomorrow. Maybe I can do something useful that doesn’t require much physical work.
I'm thankful that I did not have to go out today for milk and a few other things I needed. Rebecca, one of my former students who was always special but is now like family, grocery shopped for me and brought the things I was out of. So now I can sit and relax a bit. She brought half and half which makes coffee a treat and tea bags. Triona sent me one of those darling little tea pot and cup combinations that I am dying to try. Tea might be better although I am so tired these days that coffee will not keep me awake. I guess the deciding factor will be if there is any left in the carafe.
I am amazed that her body continues to function and produce waste when she has taken nothing, not even a sip of water in days. Eating stopped mid-week, the last attempt to give her a drink of water was Friday. Just running the moistened swab around her mouth yesterday dribbled enough water into her mouth to make her choke. Now I’m afraid to do much at all. I did try squeezing out all the excess moisture and cleaning her teeth with it but I was nervous about that. Ed sat with her last night so I could service a PR client (publicity for a special event) and he had the same experience.
This morning, after I changed her bed pad and propped her up a bit to take her weight off her sore, I asked her if she was comfortable and she tried to answer. I believe she knows that someone is there trying to care for her. I hope she knows it’s me. But her eyes appear not to see anything. Phyllis and Carol came to help me today to continue to neaten and clean. Each of them took turns going in to see Mom and let her know they were here.
Because death is imminent, several friends have been trying to helping me get the house in order. We've marveled that she is still breathing as she looks so small and frail now. Carol said she thinks she is waiting to die until I get the house presentable for visitors. That would be just like Mom. She would want everything to be clean.
The worst room in the house is the library, which I took over for a downstairs office about 10 years ago. I had everything I needed and a couch and chair to sit it when discussing a job with clients. But we stuck the TV in the corner in an entertainment center. When the couch became too low for Mom, she took the chair and later I got a lounge chair because I was having so much difficulty with fibromyalgia and it was a place for me to get a respite. So we had to also get rid of the small sofa. We found Mom a recliner, too, which she planted a chair in front of my filing cabinets in the office – the only place to put a chair and be able to see the TV closed up in the corner cabinet.
I protested at the time saying we should just move the TV to the living room and be sure we both had a place to sit that was comfortable for the evening but, Mom has always been the boss and she wanted to be where I was. So the office has piled up until it is truly a landfill. I couldn’t get to the filing cabinets without moving Mom and her chair and for the past three years that has not been even a temporary option.
Somewhere along the way Mom started feeding one of the cats in the office on a rolling cart under the window. That created quite a mess because cats are not fastidious eaters. They like to take food out of the dish and eat it off the floor or whatever. And if Katie Cat was hungry and we did not notice, she would smack a food dish into the floor (it didn't matter if it wasn't empty). Then she got sick and started tossing as much as she ate. To clean it up required moving Mom and the chair. When I took over feeding the cat about two years ago, I moved her feeding area back to the kitchen but the damage had been done and some of it was where I couldn’t see it unless I moved Mom out of her corner. Places like under the radiator or under the rolling cart. When I realized that crumbs of cat food had fallen into a basket of genealogy papers by the cart, I gave up trying to keep the area clean.
Truly, I did not have time. Up until a year ago, I was still working at the college. It was all I could do to keep Mom clean and in clean laundry, grocery shop and cook and feed Mom by hand for the past six months. I kept Mom’s room and her bathroom in shape, kept the kitchen clean and the dishes done. But by the time I finished that and did something to bring in a few kopeks I was pretty well done in.
About three weeks ago, I guess, Mom took to bed. I got behind the chair and picked up a lot of kitty “litter” including paper plates she had knocked behind the furniture around her eating area and removing various piles of disgusting stuff but then Mom became completely incontinent and between trying to keep current with writing assignments and keep her dry and comfortable (and until this week trying to get her to eat something), I just didn’t get back to it until today. I picked up everything I could and ran the vacuum over the remains. Now I need to scrub. But the weather is rainy and damp today and I am really hurting so I think I will try again tomorrow. Maybe I can do something useful that doesn’t require much physical work.
I'm thankful that I did not have to go out today for milk and a few other things I needed. Rebecca, one of my former students who was always special but is now like family, grocery shopped for me and brought the things I was out of. So now I can sit and relax a bit. She brought half and half which makes coffee a treat and tea bags. Triona sent me one of those darling little tea pot and cup combinations that I am dying to try. Tea might be better although I am so tired these days that coffee will not keep me awake. I guess the deciding factor will be if there is any left in the carafe.
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