I recently realized for the first time, I had no problem writing thenew year on anything. 2010 was so full of stress & loss & strength testing, for the first time, I'm truly happy to say goodbye to a year and look forward. 2010 started off with saying goodbye to my aunt (another cancer victim). That was quickly followed by one cousin having a serious snowmobile accident and then another being hospitalized after that. Within another few weeks, my mother was hospitalized for the first time.
Most of the rest of the year was spent living life on call. My mother went back and forth between home & hospital until she was finally sent home in September for 10 days of hospice care before the end finally came. Everywhere I went (or didn't go), I was nervous whenever the phone rang that it was that call - Mom was gone. We went on vacation in July to a very relaxing spot and I jumped when the phone rang (it wasn't The Call - it was the owner of the cabin we were renting sending someone to fix the clogged toilet).
My prayers at the beginning of the year started off praying that my mom would live long enough for my kids to be old enough to remember her. By midyear, they changed for God to finally take her so her suffering would end. Her memory got addled, her life quality seriously deteriorated, and instead of being the woman who was only happy taking care of others (especially her grandchildren), she became the woman who could only be taken care of.
I had a minor epiphany today. When Mom was losing her battle, I had no disillusions about what was coming. It's the saying goodbye & letting go afterwards that I've had some trouble with. I've known that I don't like that her death leaves me with a permanent loss. I've known that I dealt with the time leading up to her death better than the time after her death, but then today I finally figured it out. When Mom was dying, I knew there'd be an end. I felt like I was a horse with blinders on, not able (or wanting) to look around or up for fear of not seeing just how far the end might be), but if I kept my head down and focused on just this day, I'd be OK, and someday, the end would come. Now that death has come, there's no end to the loss. She's permanently gone, and she's never coming back (nor is my aunt).
I've had irrational thoughts while we were going through her things and giving away her clothes. What if she suddenly came back and all her clothes gone? She'd be so hurt that we didn't believe she'd be back and now she had nothing to wear. I've gone to call her at her work number to tell her something my kids just did and then I remember she won't pick up on the other end.
She didn't take the best care of herself, but she definitely didn't deserve cancer. And everyday, I think of her at some point and tell her I miss her. F*** you, cancer.
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