Posts Tagged ‘death’

Incomplete

Posted: April 3, 2013 in Mom, Personal
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I am on a train to New Jersey to visit friends. While I’ve done this at least twice a year for years, this time feels different. The last time, like every time before, I would call my Mom and talk to her. When I was seated in my friends’ car, I would call her to tell her that I made it. This time, none of that will happen.

It is small little things that still creep up on me five months after Mom’s death. So many little rituals that we had that defined my daily life and now it is all gone. I always thought that my father’s death would hit me harder but I can no longer feel the hole he left but I feel that my heart will never be complete again now that Mom is gone.

A few days ago, I thought about never seeing her or talking to her again and I had a panic attack. Over and over again, I remember that moment she stopped breathing and the pain that stabbed into my heart and stayed there. The cliché is that it gets better with time, and while I know it’s only been five months, it seems to be getting worse and not better.

I find myself thinking of deals I can make with the universe for one more minute with her and knowing that my wishing it won’t make it so. No matter what I wish or offer to give up, she is gone and will not be returning.

I lost a piece of myself and I don’t think I’ll ever feel whole again.

A Not So Happy Story

Posted: March 20, 2013 in Death, Depression, Mom, Personal
Tags: , , ,

Every time I think that my journey through the territory of my mental health is heading in the right direction, something sets off another landmine, blowing a hole right through my comfort zone.

Sometimes I know what will set me off but today’s explosion was a complete surprise.  I knew that the last time I went to Worcester to see my Mom that she was going to be dead before I came home.  She was that ill and there was nothing left that the doctors could do.  

There was something I could do however and that was sit by her bed for four days and watch as she slowly slipped away from me.  For the first few days she was conscious and we were able to talk.  I am lucky that the last thing she said to me was “I love you”.  

Towards the end things got bad.  The pain med wasn’t working, she was gasping for air.  It was horrible.  And even as horrible as it was, I am glad I was there.  
Because I was glad, I thought that her actual dying was out of my mind and that I was grieving her being gone.  Not so.

Fast forward to today.  My sister-in-law’s father-in-law has Parkinson’s and has less than 48 hours to live.  She started telling me in detail what he was like when they saw him a few days ago.  It could have been me watching my mother all over again for what she was saying.

That’s when I literally screamed for her to stop talking.  I could feel myself shaking and trying not to cry.  I was once again in the hospital room, sitting next to my Mom and feeling her get cold.

I now know that I need to deal with this issue.  It’s not something I’ve ever discussed with anyone, not my husband, not my counselor, not even with myself.  I figured because I was privileged to be there at the end that I had no issues with it.  I was so very wrong.

Will this “cure” me?  I doubt it, I have too many other issues to ever be cured but will talking about it help me?  Definitely.  

It has taught me that, even when I think something is a blessing, I need to discuss it because it could otherwise come back and bite me on the ass.