I made the announcement that I would start blogging again and I knew I had to take some time to think long and hard as to what I would decide to share. Trust me, it has been really hard to unleash the blogging beast after such a long break. What I failed to mention was that I did something I even harder than typing my feelings for those who choose to read my blog just last month. I wrote my first eulogy.
I think the dent in my forehead from bashing it on the table, trying to find the right words to write that eulogy, has finally healed. Now, I suffer writer's block something fierce. You see, that eulogy was for my mom that passed away on Saturday, August 8, 2020.
Now, as over a month has passed, I did my best to go through the grieving period. Most of my crying happened, in secret, while my mom was in the hospital, then in a nursing home, back to the hospital, back to the nursing home, and while she was in hospice. All this happened in roughly a month, during a pandemic, nonetheless. I did my bet to hold it together for those around me, but my family saw the strain and pain I felt. I tried to hide reading books, playing games on my Kindle, and a few times I spent praying at my father's grave for strength. Because of the pandemic, visiting my mom was not exactly allowed. That is, when she was placed in hospice, we were allowed to visit her, but with the restrictions, it was a process. I can at least admit that while it was really hard to see my mom in her final stages, I did get to see her a couple times before the call came that she passed. One day, I call "the bad day:, and the other "the good day".
The first day my mom was placed in hospice, I was called at work. Having a light day and basically done with my clients for the day, I raced out of work to go see her. Being told that my siblings would understand if I didn't go see her, I knew deep in my heart I had to. That day, was the bad day. She was sedated, confused... and a little detached from her surroundings. She couldn't speak. Her beautiful blue eyes looked almost translucent in color, and a tear formed in the corner of her eye. I was not sure if she even recognized me. Seeing her like that nearly killed me. I did my best to not cry and talked to her. All I remember saying is that I loved her and that everything is going to be okay. I ran from that room crying all the way back to my car, and sat there crying for a good half hour. Once I calmed down, I went and saw my brother for a bit, then I went home.
The second day of hospice, I was not all that certain I could return there alone. I didn't know if I was strong enough to see my mom again. I called my brother to see how he was doing and he got a call from my older sister, telling him that mom was alert and talkative. Shocked to hear this, but thrilled to go see her, I raced back to the nursing home to see for myself. To my relief and surprise, my mom looked great. We had a good talk and I managed to get out what I needed to say about how much I loved her, to tell her I am sorry that I failed her as a daughter. I should have done more for her instead of pushing her to do more for herself. While I admitted that I have always seen her as a strong and capable woman, I should have listened more to her truth than brushed it off like I did for so long. She said she forgave me and loved me. She reminded me that she is proud and loves all her kids no matter what. We talked about my daughter, my grandson, and my husband. She asked about work, and our conversation fell back into what we usually did. She told me she wanted to go home and I said she would, knowing that was not going to be the case made me feel sick to my stomach, but deep down I had hope that would happen. I noticed her looking tired, so I told her I loved her one more time for good measure and said I would be back the next day. That was the good day.
The next two days that followed were bad days and I couldn't bring myself to have my last memory of her be from the bad days, so I didn't go. She passed away the next morning.
Knowing that blogging would help with the grieving process, I hemmed and hawed over what I would blog about. I had too much and too little to share. My panic attacks came back with a vengeance. With those attacks, I tend to do one of two things... I shut up or I shut down. I have done both.
I announced on social media that I would start blogging again and started to think of what I should blog about and this one thought came to mind.... Letters to Mom. You see, the first thing about losing a parent is the inability to have a conversation with them anymore. That daily phone call. Sometimes I would do the dialing and others... she would do the dialing. I could easily dial up her number, but she is not there to pick up anymore and that just hurts. With the eulogy that I wrote for her, I felt I said all that I could have said, but there are some times it would be so wonderful to still have a conversation with her. I know prayer can do that, but I wanted to do something more. Maybe it will help squash the panic attacks, maybe it will let me share what I would say if she was here to show you the relationship I had with my mom, but without her "nothing held back opinions", it will definitely fall short. so here goes....
Hi Mom,
I bought a journal the other day. I know, I know... that crackpot of a therapist didn't help with finding how to stop the panic attacks, but maybe she had something right. Maybe, if I write you letters about how I am feeling, then maybe I can crack the code to jam those damn feelings of that I am going to die at any given moment back into the box of things to stop fretting about. I know it is a tall order to do that, but I am at least going to try. So here goes.
Let's start with the obvious. I feel a little lost since you have been gone. I also became a little curious about life and started reading the bible. I am not that far into reading it, but I am willing to take some time from my day to read a little. I guess I am trying to find solace in my faith that life does go on. Since I had a talk with my priest all those years ago, I am still grasping that while faith is blind, it is that faith that allows me to believe that God does have a plan for everyone. Including me. Doesn't give much to ease my mind not knowing what is going to happen to me. Nor does it give me peace to take comfort that when my time comes that it doesn't leave me feeling like I missed something, or left something behind that causes pain to those I left behind. Sure, my brother, my sisters and myself are handling things fine in your absence, but that is because you taught us to move forward. Heck, sometimes you pushed us forward against our will. You were a great teacher. I am not all that certain that I managed to follow your footsteps for my daughter. Maybe you could give me a guiding hand sometime? That is, if you feel compelled to do so. Since I gather that Heaven is all that we have been told it is to be. I guess that is why I am turning to reading the bible. To understand what God has for us and also be thankful for his son and his sacrifices to make that happen.
Work has been slow lately. Not sure if it is the hype of rushing through the doors dying down or if the fact that the economy tanked that is killing business, but I have had a little more free time on my hands lately, Oh, and if you offered a little help to push our circa 1970 Maytag dryer to pasture? Thanks! You knew I wouldn't see a new appliance in this house until all attempts of fixing it fails. Looking forward to the new Maytag dryer to be delivered at the end of the month. As for now? I have to go to the laundromat. Kind of a pain in the tush to do that, but when laundry needs to be done... it gets done.
Well, that is all I have time for today. DH is home for lunch and I have a doctor's appointment.
I miss you mom...
Thanks for reading.
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