Last year at 4:30 am my Mom passed away from this world into
another. I was with her. I remember every moment of those wee
hours of the morning. The darkness, the stillness. The phone call to the
hospice nurse who had just been with us a few hours earlier.
The oxygen being shut off. The lights in her dimly lit bedroom suddenly
bright. The soft classical music playing in the background. The
stethoscope. The nurse checking her watch for the exact time.
I was impervious to pain. I was lost in a haze ~ somewhere ~ nowhere ~ like
a body dropped off a ship and left to float in an unknown sea. Alone, so
terribly alone now.
Going through the motions. Talking with and yet not fully hearing the words of the
nurse sitting by my side. Waiting for someone from the mortuary to arrive.
Feeling so uncertain in a town where I had only lived for a few short months.
It was nine days since her massive stroke. I was always hopeful, despite the
dire predictions of the palliative care physician. He knew the end was coming
although I chose not to accept it.
Now it was over. Had I forgotten how to breathe? I was cold, so cold
I could not warm up. Get some rest I was told. Later that day would be
a busy one. I felt like I had left my body and was looking at myself from
afar. I was thrust onto a stage and left without a script.
It was over ….
During these last twelve months I have struggled with my loss. Some
months were better than others. I had a very tough set back last fall, yet
somehow and from somewhere I began to feel a renewed strength. I
nurtured that tiny bit of strength. I held on to it tightly. As I nurtured
it, it began to grow slowly and steadily.
Time does indeed heal wounds. I made it through the past year without
completely crumbling. I know that my Mom and Daddy are together
and that gives me comfort. If you were to eavesdrop on me when I am
at home alone, you might well catch me talking to them. I fill them in on
what's going on in my life. I feel like they are listening and that helps
me cope with the loss.
I am hopeful for the future. Life goes on and although greatly missed,
loved ones always live on in our hearts. I love you mama.
Big Texas Hugs,
Susan and Bentley