It's okay.
Sunday, August 3rd, 2014
I chewed out my brother for being an asshole. He hadn't visited our Mum since she left her home at the end of June. I was the one taking his kids to see her, and I was in no mood to hear him complain about how busy he was and how hard it was to pack his house for an unexpected move. I was doing all that for Mum, without him. I got it. So, I chewed him out. He walked away pissed off and I left in a sour mood for the hospital with my nephew and daughter.
She wasn't doing well, at all, when we arrived. The social worker needed to talk to me about where my Mum would go when she was well enough to leave. All of it was overwhelming.
It was always overwhelming.
Next, I had a brief conversation with the nurse and then stepped to my Mother's bedside.
I just knew.
I sobbed. For the first time, I just let it go and sobbed. I think it surprised O and Rowan. O left the room to get me tissue, that's what she does when I cry. Rowan sat in a chair in the corner with a shocked look on his face. I held my Mum's hand, smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. The nurse came in and tried to comfort me. She rubbed my back, I thought it was sweet. And, I still sobbed.
I just knew.
I told O we needed to go in the hall to give Rowan some time alone with Nana. He was the grandchild who was closest to her. They loved each other a great deal.
In the hallway, I texted my cousin to see if she could take O and Rowan up to Sun Valley. We were supposed to leave that night. Rowan was participating in the Symphony Youth Workshops and needed to be there in the morning. My Dad made the 6 hour roundtrip from Sun Valley to get them.
My brother and his daughter showed up, Rowan had texted them. I took off to get dinner and pack an overnight bag.
The room was peaceful when I returned. Mum was just resting. I held her hand.
The doctor asked to speak with me outside of the room and we talked about my decision to switch my Mum to palliative/comfort care earlier on in the day. It was in accordance with her living will, but he wanted to make sure I understood.
I did.
I curled up next to my Mum. I told her I was going to be with her the entire night holding her hand and that she wasn't going to be alone.
She died an hour and a half later.
I listened to her breathing and then, she stopped. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. A mother and daughter holding hands, and one peacefully passes away. I memorized that moment, and it will always be with me.
I'm so glad I was with her, and I'm glad she didn't die alone.
I don't remember much between her passing and the memorial service. I know a lot of people helped me but, it's all a blur. Although I wasn't fully aware of life that week, I did remember a poem Mum shared with me decades ago. She said she wanted it read at her funeral. It is beautiful.
Gone From My Sight
Henry Van Dyke
"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
"Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"
"Gone where?
"Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
"Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"
And that is dying..."
My Mum is not a taboo topic.
I don't mind talking about her, the summer and how I'm doing.... Death is a part of life, and it's okay. I'm sad. Her passing was expected though. I've grieved a lot.
However, when the phone rings, I wonder if it's my Mum.
But, it won't be.
It never will be.
And, that's hard.
Most of the time, I'm fine. And then, sometimes I get hit with emotion. At school last week, a fellow TA was talking to me about a "team time" she wanted me to cover. She mentioned it was grandparents week and I realized O doesn't have her Nana anymore. And then I remembered I didn't have my Mum anymore, and I started crying.
I know all of this will take time.
The doctor asked to speak with me outside of the room and we talked about my decision to switch my Mum to palliative/comfort care earlier on in the day. It was in accordance with her living will, but he wanted to make sure I understood.
I did.
I curled up next to my Mum. I told her I was going to be with her the entire night holding her hand and that she wasn't going to be alone.
She died an hour and a half later.
I listened to her breathing and then, she stopped. It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life. A mother and daughter holding hands, and one peacefully passes away. I memorized that moment, and it will always be with me.
I'm so glad I was with her, and I'm glad she didn't die alone.
I don't remember much between her passing and the memorial service. I know a lot of people helped me but, it's all a blur. Although I wasn't fully aware of life that week, I did remember a poem Mum shared with me decades ago. She said she wanted it read at her funeral. It is beautiful.
Gone From My Sight
Henry Van Dyke
"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship, at my side,
spreads her white sails to the moving breeze and starts
for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until, at length, she hangs like a speck
of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.
"Then, someone at my side says, "There, she is gone"
"Gone where?
"Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast,
hull and spar as she was when she left my side.
And, she is just as able to bear her load of living freight to her destined port.
"Her diminished size is in me -- not in her.
And, just at the moment when someone says, "There, she is gone,"
there are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices
ready to take up the glad shout, "Here she comes!"
And that is dying..."
My Mum is not a taboo topic.
I don't mind talking about her, the summer and how I'm doing.... Death is a part of life, and it's okay. I'm sad. Her passing was expected though. I've grieved a lot.
However, when the phone rings, I wonder if it's my Mum.
But, it won't be.
It never will be.
And, that's hard.
Most of the time, I'm fine. And then, sometimes I get hit with emotion. At school last week, a fellow TA was talking to me about a "team time" she wanted me to cover. She mentioned it was grandparents week and I realized O doesn't have her Nana anymore. And then I remembered I didn't have my Mum anymore, and I started crying.
I know all of this will take time.
2 comments:
I love you, Melissa! You are a strong woman and your Mum is a wonderful person. Thank you for sharing!
Do you have her ashes? Is that her urn? I'm sorry. I'm glad you cried and the kids saw your grief. Big Momma-less hugs. I'm sure my Mom and your Mum had a good reunion in the waiting room to Heaven.
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