Mom threw up all day today. It was the most horrible vomit ever. I thought I’d lose it but I kept it together. She kept saying sorry and I kept telling her it was ok. I remember waking up early after not having slept well and thought I need to get to her house. It was a good thing I did because she had been stumbling around her house. The table in the kitchen was moved as if she had bumped into it hard. She was confused and out of it. I felt bad I hadn’t stayed the night. Why hadn’t I stayed the night?
God, I wish she were here so she could see where I am. I wish she could offer her opinion even if I didn’t like it. Would she be happy with what is going on in my life?
I knew I had to bring her to my house so I was running around her house trying to wash her bedding so I could bring it, gather all her stuff and pack her a bag. I was depending on the people at home to help with things, set things up. I needed help at her house but at the time the rodeo was acting up and I had mom’s car so no one could really help.
When the time finally came for me to leave the house I couldn’t get mom out by myself. She was too weak. I had the van all loaded up and I was trying to figure out how to get her out when I saw these men working on a house across the street. I had hoped maybe they could carry her out… I had to ask. They did help me, thankfully and we got to my house. I hurried up and made my bed with her bedding… asked where she was. I asked her if it looked like her bed. She said yes and seemed satisfied. I slept (when I did sleep) on the floor next to the bed. I should have laid with her but I had been shut down for so long it just didn’t feel comfortable.
I’m right back there. Thoughts overwhelming my brain. Tears trying to escape. I want to scream. Stomp my feet. Throw hissy fit.
I want my mom back! I WANT MY MOM BACK!
This was the day I brought my mom to my house. I made my bed with her sheets and bedspread, so she’d feel at home. When she asked, “where am I?” I said well who’s bed does it look like you’re in? It felt good when she said “mine.”
I miss her. I long to hear her voice or feel her hand in mine.
Nighttime is hard. The days before she died play out like movies in vivid detail in my head. Did I do things right, was she comfortable, could I have done things different, did I do what she wanted? I wish I could talk with her, one more time… when I saw my aunt, my moms twin for the first time after my mom died, I crumbled, I fell to my knees and bawled. She sent me a thank you card today with a letter, telling me I had done a good job and thanking me for taking such good care of her sis. For honoring mom’s wishes and being so poised. It was touching, I’m glad she said I did well even if it was bullshit. I wish you got visitation for a little while after someone dies, I really need to talk with my mom. I can’t cope. I’m going through the motions, staying busy and trying to forget but I just don’t want to live without my mom.
One month ago today, I lost my most important role model and my best friend. My mom was my best friend for years. She was my other half, at times we switched up who was the better half but she was mine. Over the past 5 years I have been slowly becoming my mom’s parent more than her daughter, but she was always my mom even if I was the one bossing her around. We were so similar on some things and so opposite on other things but we fit. We’ve always been buddies, well minus those two years I was a teenage asshole. My mom has always had my back, she was there the day I got married, she was there for the birth of both my children, she was there when my dad died, even though she was doing her own mourning. I clearly knew my mom was dying but I didn’t really believe it was actually happening. I had somehow tricked myself partially into believing she would get better, but she didn’t. I’ve lost a piece of myself I have a huge hole in my soul and in my heart. Nothing will ever fill that hole again. I am lost and empty. Everyone has gone home (my family, Karl’s parents are still here)… tomorrow we will finish cleaning out mom’s house, then I’ll call the lady and let her know she can pay me and move in. I’m beyond broken. I KNOW my mom’s dead, but I just can’t believe my mom’s dead. I want to see her, I hurt, my chest literally hurts like it’s never hurt before. I’m fucked up.
Memorial was lovely. Nice turn out. Her pictures were great and lots of people from her neighborhood came to the memorial and not the reception after. This hanging out here at her house is not fun, I don’t dig these people, I’m not like them.