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brsarah

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Posts posted by brsarah

  1. Kim

    I know how you feel. My mom has been gone now for nine days. I keep on recalling the sounds she was making shortly before she passed. I keep second guessing if I advocated enough for her to get more pain meds. All that ugly stuff comes right up in my head leaving me void of any peace as well. I think it may be different because its your mother. Mothers bring us into the world. By maternal bond we hold them in our center. I use to call my mother everyday. I feel your pain. Take it one day at a time. You did amazing things for your mom by bringing her to your home to pass. That is an amazing, beautiful gift. You gave her peace to pass with love and dignity. I suffer with not having brought my mom home. Either way, we who have lost a loved one always doubt our own efforts. You did good by your mom. Your in my prayers. Sarah.

  2. It has only been six days since my mom has passed. Everywhere there is a memory, thought of her. I cannot believe she is gone. I still have her cell phone and I have called it several times in the last few days just to hear her voice. I have never felt grief before and boy is it scary. I go from feeling just numb to sorrow and then depressed. I never realized how often I've done things just for my mom in my life. She was my audience. She told me when my clothes looked great, when I got a good hair cut, how much I changed. Now, I feel like my number one supporter is not watching anymore. I just wish she would give me a sign or something. I have not returned back to work yet but will probally feel better once I'm busy. It is also very hard after the ceremony ends, family and friends go home and you are left with your thoughts. Sorry to be such a downer, but I'm not sure where else to vent. Thanks for all the support. Prayers and Hope for all those on this path. Sarah

  3. Hi Nick

    I can relate to your anger, although mine right now is a hesitant sorrow, still very raw and new. My husband and I were driving back home today, my mom's service was on the saturday and we were talking about children, and the drive or desire to have them did not feel present in me as it did when my mom was alive. It is a scary, ugly feeling. All I can think is that the legacy you gained from your mother will be and should be passed to your children. I guess this is where faith comes in. You need to have faith that she is still there, still a present and consistent part of your life. My husband lost his father two years ago. Right now, we have just his mother and my father left. It feels like time clock tickig away. Stay strong, have faith. Sarah

  4. The following I wrote for my mom to be read at her remembrance service on Jan. 6th. I wanted to share it with you because it reflects a little about who she is. Strength and prayers to all and once again, thank you for your love and kindness and support. So many nights, I needed it and still do. Love Sarah

    Dear Mom

    Let me tell you about your life as I saw it as your daughter.

    Beauty

    There was so much beauty in your life. You expressed your love of beautiful things. The beauty you saw was not so much in material objects, such as houses, cars vacations, but of the simple things. Geese flying over the porch, a striped kitten playing with your feet, a moon bright orange and round, rock gardens and marigolds, water falls, oceans, sand bars rising under our toes, the hot sand and the sound of ice-cream trucks. The sunlight coming through the windows at home and resting on the ivy plant or Beanie, your striped cat stretching in the late afternoon sun. You saw beauty in music, jazz, blues, rock and opera. You made sure your children knew music. I remember dancing to Fleetwood Mac or Buffy Saint Marie. You saw so much beauty in your children and you reminded us of our beauty even when we were not been acting so beautiful. You would touch my hair and tell me “You have the most beautiful hair Sarah”. You encouraged our beauty to come out. You saw so much beauty in David and his music and in his love of God. You saw beauty in my poems, in my work with people as a social worker. You saw beauty even in our flaws, you convinced me I could dance and saw beauty as I danced off step in so many dance recitals working my way to the front row so you could see. You saw beauty in our humor, our jokes, and our silliness as kids, you taught us about true beautiful things. The things of the heart and soul and mind, the things of warm hands and kind words and giving back in gracious love.

    Love

    You gave of your love so freely. Your love was a warm, soft safe love to be in. My mamas love was vast and wide, it could be described as a sunset over the ocean, beating with so many colors or a wild lilac bush in early spring, that was your love, a true love, one that was with us always, consistent, my mom’s love. You raised loving children. David and I have so much love to give to people. We are kind people and often wear our hearts on our sleeves. You gave that to us mama, you let us know that our love is powerful and good.

    Integrity

    You had integrity. You held true to your promises. You followed through with kindness to others. You taught your children integrity, to be honest, to be true, to be giving. To allow ourselves to show our beauty and see beauty in others. I use to tell you “mom your too honest”. You were a business woman, you sold houses and I can tell you that you had the utmost integrity in your business dealings than anyone I ever knew. You cared about the people you worked for and with. You were always aware, sometimes painfully so of how your actions may affect others and you were always cautious not to hurt somebody’s feelings. So many people in this world may not care how they appear to others or what their words have the ability to do to somebody, but mom, you were not into throwing stones, you were into keeping peace even if it meant, maybe getting hurt. You taught me to be gentle with people, you taught me how to tap into my own fragileness, respect the fragility of others and pick kindly my actions and words.

    Strength and Courage

    Life is not life without some pain. If we were all handed a silver platter with fine food in our castles we would never learn the true stuff about life. You taught us how to work through our own pain and your kindness and gentleness with our pain allowed us and prepared us to be with you in times of your pain. You blessed us with the strength not to turn away from painful things. You prepared us to be strong people, people of will and endurance. You taught me how to see strength in others and in myself, to pull at that thread of strength and turn it into a rope to hold onto. We are not shocked by the hardness or harshness of life, we simply face it with courage.

    Humor

    Mom, you were funny! You could be so witty and I have to say, funnier than me most times. You gave us the gift of humor. What a wonderful gift! Amazingly, there are not many funny people in the world and we are blessed to have had a mom who had a great sense of humor. Humor brought us through many tough moments, your humor picked me up during times when I was certain there was nothing to laugh about, you always found the moment and taught us in turn how to bring the humor in.

    Dreams

    You believed in our dreams. In your eyes, David is a musician and I am a writer. You gave us encouragement and wanted so badly the things we wanted for ourselves. I remember my senior year in high school and the swimming championships. I, of course, had dreams of breaking my time, winning the race and you too, quietly held that dream with me. When I didn’t win, but instead came in a painful third, I cried and I saw across the way, through the mist rising off of the lanes of water, you on the bleachers, at the end of the meet, crying because of my pain. You felt our hardships, you hurt when we were hurt but you always helped us rewrite our dreams, make them anew and go forth.

    Comfort

    You gave comfort to your children. No one can calm a child’s fear like the hand of a mother. You taught us through your giving of comfort how to comfort you to the end.

    Hope

    You taught me most about hope mama. We hoped for so much during life. Our hope, always kept us all going. Hope for things big and small. Hope for flowers, for sunshine, for good weather, strong lives, big dreams, good times and love, always hope for love.

    Mama, You loved life and you had a beautiful life to show for it. I learned so much about you during these last four months. So many people love you, the outpouring of affection from your friends, your peers, family and even strangers is testament to the kind of person you are. You are loved mama.

    I know we will still need you. I will still wake up at night sometimes urgently needing your advice. I will sit at the table wishing you were there with me, but I promise you, I will have courage, I will face the darkness, the fears of life and I will cherish my life, every aching, loving, joyful piece of it. I will continue to be the person you taught me to be and that is a good person, a person of beauty, of love, of kindness, of integrity, strength, courage, humor, a dreamer, a person who gives comfort and always a hopeful person. I love you my sweet mama. You are an auburn beauty.

    Love always

    Your Daughter

    Sarah

  5. My mom has passed. I drove through the rain, from Mass to Connecticut. I set up a cot by her bed and read the pshalms to her. I prayed with her and sang her favorite songs. For those who believe in spiritual stuff, I saw small white lights above my mom's bed all night long up until she finally passed. I fell asleep for 40 minutes and woke, startled to the silence, her peace. It takes courage and spirit to face this disease, to face ones ending. My mom did it with grace. I wish everybody in the whole world could of known my mom. Some day I will be with her, sitting across from a tray of hot cookies in our dim dining room, my mom a auburn beauty, the world endless, our lives ahead of us. I love you mama, my best friend. Rest peacefully, Sarah

  6. My mom is presently in Hospice. She was discharged from the hospital last week and now in Hospice. She is in one room with three other people who are dying. There is no hiding dying at Hospice, it is in our face, right there. This is such a horrible disease. I would of never guessed that my mom and my family would be in this place this time this year. She is 58years old. She left her apartment and cats behind on September 12, 2006 to drive herself to the emergency room where they did a chest x-ray and saw the mass in her lungs. Her apartment is gone, I have her cats and she has never regained her life back. How quick life can change, how fragile and fleeting it truly is! I tell my mom that I am in awe at her courage, at her strength, at her faith. I'm gonna see my mom through to the end and I love her with all my heart. I hope for peace right now, for love and absence of fear for my mom. With the noise of the hospital behind us, its beeping machines and change of shifts we are now able to sit in this silence and love eachother and accept what is happening. Strength to all who are on this path. Love Sarah

  7. I want to thank the kind, loving people on this board. I have been reading posts since my mom was first diagnosed back in September. I have not contributed a lot and yet you all are so giving with your kind words. I tell my mother the postive inspiring stories I have read on this board. I want to thank you for being so kind. I hope, I will be able to give useful advice and support to other care givers. Right now, I need to go to my mom and surround her with my love and walk her through this fear. She has walked me through so much fear in my own life, from stuffed noses that scared me as a child, to driving my first car on the highway. My fondest memory of my mom and I is a memory of us on the beach in Milford, Ct. I was five or four or maybe a little younger and she was holding me while we floated and the sun was bright and the water crisp and Charles Island was off in the distance. I felt time would never end. What I wouldn't do just to reach back and plop myself on the sand back in time. Thank you for your kind thoughts and prayers, you all are in mine. Sarah

  8. My mom, dx nsclc IIB/V was just told that she will not be receiving anymore chemo. She was ready to go on her fifth treatment. She has been in the hospital since diagnosis due to medical complications, insurance issues and complexity of her disease. For the past month she has been looking so good but last weekend, it all seemed to start spiraling down hill. She fell at the base of her bed and could not get up, she is extremely tired, depressed and fearful. Last catscan about three to four weeks ago indicated the main tumour in her lungs decreased slightly and there was no progression of the disease. But recently her pleural effusion has increased and had an increased amount of blood in it. I'm so scared, frustrated, saddened. My mother has no insurance and has recently been approved for medicaid. Her options are limited. Right now they are recommending Hospice. This disease is truly awful. I'm sorry to vent so much but I'm hurting for my mother. She is 58 years old. I had dreams of some day getting that really good job and being able to help her out, take away her stress, take her to Europe. I had so many dreams for my mom and I. Where do I put them now? I can't imagine life without my mom. Please put her in your prayers. Sarah

  9. I think "hope" changes meaning. With my mom, first I hoped we would not get bad news, then I hoped she could recover. I hoped in the beginning, just to get her out of ICU then hoped for comfort, hoped for the absence of fear, hoped for time, hoped for understanding, hoped for peace and love. Thats why I didn't understand when a doctor said "we don't want to offer you false hope" . My hope has changed in so many ways during my mother's illness, but I still have hope. Sarah

  10. I'm so sorry to hear about your mom. My mom too was just diagnosed with stage IIIB/4 nsclc on Sept 12. She is still fighting and now on her third round of chemo. This is a good place to vent and read inspirational stories. I found a lot of hope hear at this website. Read the stories and pass them along to your mom. Hold onto hope and pray. I'll say a prayer for you too. sarah

  11. Hi Paulette,

    My prayers and thoughts are with you. My mother was also diagnosed 5-6 weeks ago with NSCLC and I too was told that she has six or less months left. However, she is doing very well right now and I am hopeful. I will pray for you and your husband, Sarah

  12. Hi Cheryl,

    My thoughts and prayers go out to you and your husband. My mother was just diagnosed on September 12th with stage IIIB/IV NSCLC. She was offered only chemo (Every 2.5/3wks). She was denied radiation due to the location (heart/lungs plus pleural effusion). My mother too, is at times, very depressed, almost unable to be consoled. As a daughter, it is horrible to see a parent in so much emotional and physical pain. All I know is I am there for her. I just quietly sit by her and hold her while she cries and speak softly too her. All you can do is be there and support your loved one. Hope this helps. Thoughts and prayers sent to you and your husband, Sarah

  13. My mother presently has difficulty with lack of appetite. Is this a side effect? Have others experienced this? Are there some solutions. My mother is on her second round of chemo 2.5 weeks apart. She was just told a brain lesion was found but not to worry about it. Should she? Thank you, Sarah

  14. I am amazed and truly appreciative of all the support, prayers and hugs for my mom. I too send them out to all of you. I have a question re:appetite. I told my mother about this board and will print out all the comments and support received in order to lift her spirits and keep her hope strong. Presently, her appetite is very poor if not even present. Today she drank one boost and ate a little watermelon. I'm concerned about her strength. Have others experienced appetite loss? Presently she has had two rounds of chemo, 2.5 weeks apart. She was also told that a brain lesion was discovered. Her doctor told her not to be concerned about that now. Should she? I have to let you all know that I am so inspired by your stories and so grateful for your support. This is a painful, scary experience, but the support pours light into the darkness. Thank you, Sarah

  15. I want to thank you all for such quick responses and wonderful support. I teared up with all the kindness. I just heard from the hospital and my mother had a blood transfusion and presently has a blood clot in her arm. All of it just seems so big. Like a monster. I'm just banking on having quality time with her. I'm literally taking it day by day. She wants to get a second opinion from Yale Cancer Center, so we have started that process. Presently she is too sick to leave the hospital. We have only had the opinions of the medical team there. Once again, thank you all for your kind words. Sarah

  16. Hello,

    My mother Diane was diagnosed with NSCLC IIIB/IV with pleural effusion in chest and lungs, tumors in her lymph nodes and a tumor pressing against her heart and esphagus. It started as a cough back in January. She has been a realtor for years, self-employed single mother with no health insurance. I begged her to go to the walk in clinic to have her lungs checked becuase the cough was not going away. She went and they gave her some pills for congestion. I was relieved, thinking it was nothing but a cold. Then it didn't go away. She started to sleep late which is not like my mother. I moved out in May after I finished grad school and just one month ago she calls me to tell me shes feeling like shes having a nervous breakdown. She goes to a doctor, a physcian of general medicine. She has shortness of breath, extemely tired. He gives her xanax and an anti-depressant. She goes to him two more time complaining of shortness of breath. He changes the anti-depressant. She calls me at work and tells me she cannot make it up the stairs. The next call I get (an hour apart) she is in the ER and told there is a mass in her lungs, fluid around her heart, and chest and a collapsed lung. Something a simple chest x-ray could pick up. Now, I am one month into this. I slept in ICU at her bedside for over two weeks. I have sobbed, not eaten and literally found out what it feels like to have your heart break. This is my mother. I am a social worker, I worked in the very ICU where my mother is now a patient. I worked with families who were losing someone to awful medical situations and I know nothing about this process. She is now, on a regular floor. I was told that there are no options for her. That she should choose Hospice Care. I was told that she would have 2 months to live and that the Chemo would not do anything. My mother is fighting. She chose Chemo to the medical team's dismay. She is losing her hair. She cannot walk, she is weak and tired and I am so scared for her. Thank you for all posting your stories on this board. Its amazing how the world keeps spinning even when your own world seems to harshly stop.

    Sarah

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