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.
It’s almost 2:30am, do you know where your mind is? Mine is on my mom… it’s been there all day. It has been a year and a half since my mom died. 79½ weeks, 556 days, 13,344 hours since my mom exhalled her last breath. When she was finally able to completely exhale. When you have COPD you can’t completely exhale, which in turn means you can’t inhale enough and with each passing breath you inhale less and less over time. Your lung continue to wither, shrink, fill with fluids and you die.
I miss her, the pain of missing her only continues to grow and at times I’m still hit with shock and fresh pain. My mom grounded me, she made me who I was. Without her I feel untethered, without roots, without a safe place.
I can’t help but feel I got fucked… I hate that I feel that way. So ungrateful and greedy but I didn’t have enough time with my parents..
Took a nap today, woke up crying. In the dream my mom had died, I planned her memorial and no one came. I had her ashes sitting on the bar and everyone (random people I didn’t know) kept telling me it was no big deal. I kept screaming at people to shut up and leave me alone because it was a big deal, it was a huge freaking deal. I had let her down. Just like I’d done in real life.
I drove by my mom’s after therapy today… I hadn’t planned on it. The route so familiar the car seemed to glide on its own, around the corner, left turn onto the back road and then turned right into her neighborhood. Her house looked exactly the same. The flower pots we didn’t take, sitting in the same place… the iris were overly tall. Mom would have cut them down by now… her purplish/pink trailer looked just like she’d left it. Her neighbors still living in their homes, lives unchanged… If only I could have stopped in and seen my mom.
This evening, I found my old blog and started looking at old entries. It was just like I told Melanie, the same shit I deal with now, I dealt with over 14 years ago. When I last wrote it was right after my mom’s mom had died and then shortly after that my mom’s companion died… such a sad time. It was just a year later mom would come to live in Idaho to be close to me and my kids. Memory lane such a twisted path… I don’t want to forget but I don’t want to remember. Sometimes I still just can’t or maybe don’t want to believe I’ll never see my mom again. Not in this life… how can I go on without out her?
My mom and I were best friends, partners in crime, gigglers and she loved me like no one else has ever or will ever love me.
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.