Mom passed on August 20, 2023. I can’t write about that now, so I am skipping forward a bit to what is happening now. The past two years my life has revolved around my mother. I am not sad or resentful about that; there is nowhere I would’ve rather been. Well, I suppose that’s not true. There are a lot of places I would’ve rather been but by Mom’s side is exactly where I knew I should be; where I wanted to be. Now she is gone and I am lost. I cry myself to sleep. I cry myself awake. I cry in the middle of the day. I cry.
I understand people are well-intentioned but I am getting a lot of advice on how to grieve. I should get out of town. I should go scream. I should confront my brother on his behaviour before, during, and after as it relates to my mother. I should go do something, be busy! Crawl into bed and cry it out. Eat! Don’t eat. It’s a lot. I have had loss in my life; friends, relatives, and so on. But this is my mother. My mother. My mother is gone. I am so glad she is not suffering any more, she is free and whole. I am sure she said hello to my grandparents while off to find Roselea, Judy, and Sue. I am sure they’re playing dice with Marie, sipping champagne, and having a glorious time. But I miss her. I would give anything to have her back, not the way she was at the end, but back as she was before. When she was happy, laughing, independent. I don’t resent having to take care of her, I just would wish her back the way she was.
I don’t know what to do with my days. It will be a week tomorrow, so I know there is not rush to figure it out, but I am like a zombie. Stumbling around, landing somewhere to sit and cry for a bit, and then moving on to somewhere else. A friend suggested that I take up a hobby that she would be proud of me for and that I could connect with her on. My friend took up gardening and talks to her mom while she’s gardening. I love that idea, but I swear I have a black thumb when it comes to growing things. Maybe that’s the point. Although Mom was never really good at growing things either! Maybe that’s the point.
I want to have a celebration of her life, but trying to plan it seems very overwhelming. I will do it; Mom deserves to be honored. Dad does not want to, but he wants to support me, so he said yes. We’ll see how enthusiastic he is when he starts to learn about how much this will cost. I will try to keep it down, but it adds up. I am leaning towards October and then after we have it drive down to AZ with Sharri. I think a road trip would be nice. It will give Dad a break, and give me a break.
We are both grieving but he is a husband who lost his wife of 57 years. I lost my Mom of 53 years. It’s different. We will grieve differently. I know that but I don’t want to lose him in the process. I don’t want to orbit away from him so we can never come back. I get to do this again with him; help him die. He did thank me this morning for taking charge of Mom’s medication and just doing it. That is what the hospice folks said, they were proud of me for stepping up and taking charge. Rebecca said that I have her a “good death” in which she did not suffer. I managed her pain, I eased her anxiety, so she could transition from this world to what lies beyond. I have only told Melissa this, but although I did not feel her leave me, I felt Grandma & Grandpa there with me. I felt Grandpa’s hand on my shoulder and them standing together behind me waiting for her. Maybe I imagined it, but I believe it to be true.
My brother will not acknowledge what I contributed to the care of Mom, the care of Dad, and my role with hospice, and my role in Mom’s passing. He told Dad that he was proud of my Dad for taking care of Mom. Dad said that I had help and he replied that Dad had zero help. He made a conscious decision to reply that Dad had no help at all. I am not sure what I did to make him resent me so much. Others who know him say he’s a narcissist and that blaming me is his way of assuaging his own guilt. I don’t really know what a narcissist is, so I need to look it up, but that feels true. That whole situation deserves its own post.
We picked Mom up from Smith Lund yesterday. She was in the living room with us last night, but Dad moved her into their bedroom. She’s on her nightstand. He talked to her and said “good night”. Dad tried to be all rough and tumble but I know this is difficult for him. I need to figure out how not to lose him, at least to the best of my ability. Some people die of a broken heart. I did not think that would have applied to Dad, but now I do. I guess I will just have to wait and see.