Lee and Chi

I know exactly how you feel. My Mom died a few days after I turned 28. I'm still struggling through this first year, and especially this first holiday season. I've searched and searched for books and support for people our age. Too old to be considered a child, yet I don't exactly feel all grown up. It's like there's nothing! I don't have any other friends who have lost a parent, so I don't really have anyone to relate to. It breaks my heart that she will never see me finish my PhD. Never see me get married (heck, she won't even get to meet the guy! Whoever he is!). Never see me have kids. She won't see me do any adult things really. All she really wanted was a bunch of grandkids. I am an only child and her only shot to see them, and my life simply has not gone in that direction yet. I do hate that it's an experience that I will never have with her. And I do understand the rage thing. For a while there I think I was the angriest person on the planet. I still have moments, but it's so much better now. Faith in God gets me through. And my Chihuahua.

Thanks for the ideas. All I could come up with was "move to Mars" but I don't see that working out. It didn't occur to me until I posted here that her birthday will be a Sunday, and I can dedicate the flowers at Church to her. I can have the biggest pinkest flowers ever. That's also where her ashes are, at the church. Flowers and some pancakes for breakfast. I can do that. I don't think moving to Mars is an option for holidays either. One step at a time.

I'm in nursing and one topic I read about all the time is how nobody (meaning doctors, nurses, patients, caregivers) want to talk about death or dying. It's just one of those things programmed into our health care system. The goal is do to whatever it takes to "fix" the patient and I see so many examples where death is never discussed with the patient or the families. It's an uncomfortable subject and it's difficult to bring up. I used to avoid it like everybody else. Nobody brought it up to my Mother and our family until Hospice gave us a pamphlet. I thought it was a little late at that point, but I had been slowly bringing it up and talking about it with most everybody by that point. That being said, I know deep down that one day, losing my Mom is going to allow me to bring it up with my patients and talk about it in an open and honest way. I'm going into geriatric psych, and I'm going to need to have this conversation a lot. I like to think of my new perspective on discussing death and dying as one more gift that my mother gave to me to make me a better person.

Every time a "first day" rolls around without Mom, I don't know what to expect. There are days on the calendar that I know will be hard. This past Mother's Day almost ran me into the ground and I know Thanksgiving and Christmas this year are going to be rough. I keep hoping to be kidnapped by aliens as that sounds better than not having Mom there during the holidays. Then there are the days that sneak up out of nowhere, like the day my Mother was diagnosed. I wanted to be throwing a "You made it 1 year" party, but I wasn't. I was alone. I think one reason it was so hard is that I wasn't expecting it to be hard. I even tried really hard to ignore it, but that didn't help any. The next "first day" without Mom is going to be her birthday. It's not until October, but I have no idea what to do and I'm already dreading it. I wanted to know what other people did that helped to get through. I'm at a loss on this one. I want a nice way to remember her that's mostly private.

I fixed it!

The greatest life lesson I learned from my Mom was that it's ok to be different. As a kid, we all want to do that everybody else is doing to "fit in." My Mom always told me to be me and not everybody else. It paid off. I'm not afraid to go after what I want, even if it's not what anybody else is going after. And, I'm not afraid to say no to external pressures. I'm really thankful that my Mom gave me this. I know it's going to get me where I need to be in life.

I know exactly what you mean. I too have a hard time wrapping my mind around the time that has passed. I'm amazed the world keeps turning without Mom here. Keep on keepin' on.

I have learned never to say "things can't get any worse," because inevitably, they always do. I hadn't actually said the phrase out loud, but I've thought it a few times over the past few weeks. Then today happened. My lifelong best friend, the girl I have pictures with as a toddler, the one who is always there, no matter the distance....you know...the friend who should have been my sister has horrible news. She is pregnant with twins, but was told today that one has anencephaly. If she manages to carry it long enough, it will only live for a few hours after birth. I'm still struggling down here in the dirt after being pummeled by my Mother's death. I'm still eating pancakes and raw cookie dough 3 times a day because I don't care much for food yet. I still mope every afternoon. I still have uncontrollable crying fits at the most inopportune times. I'm standing, but barely. How can I get her through this when I am having a hard time getting myself through my own life? It's almost deja vu, counting the days until it's time for another funeral. I'm trying to rally the troops, but so far, only my pinky toe is chanting "you can do it," and it's not very loud!! The rest of my body is on strike. I guess I just need to hear I can do this so I will believe it.

I say my Mom got her angel wings. Sometimes, she got her pink, sparklie angel wings!!! When I wrote her obituary, saying she "died" on such and such date didn't fit her, it never has. Right then and there I ditched that idea and went for what made me smile. Sometimes I get odd looks because it's not something you hear everyday, but my Mom wasn't a woman you'd meet every day.

My Mom didn't want to ask, so she didn't. I'm in health care so I knew, but nobody asked me what I knew and I never said a word. Everybody is different and no doctor is going to have that kind of answer. I have known patients that were sent home to die, only to walk back on the floor healthy as ever a year later. Unfortunately, as Mom was watching the news one night, they ran a story on lung cancer which spurted out stats left and right. I wasn't there, but Mom was all doom and gloom when I heard about it! Moral of the story: Keep the channel changer near by!

Today I am grateful for my friends who show up at my house every morning to drag me out of bed if I'm still in it and who drag me off to class, no matter if I want to go or not.

On a positive note, every single day you wake up closer to your Mom is another day that you can make new memories together! Moving, not knowing what the future brings...yep, it's all very scary. But new memories that you will always have with you is a gift that not everyone can have! You seem so brave, not scared! You're my inspiration for today!

Taking care of my Mom took up almost my entire "plate." I did have to toss a few rotten veggies off of there when things got crowded because I just didn't have enough room to deal with everything! Plus they were starting to smell. I had to toss my brother and sister in law who refused to acknowledge my mother was even sick! They still haven't acknowledged that she passed away, so I feel like I made the right choice. My motto: keep the stuff on your plate that is important...like chocolate...toss the smelly brussel sprouts...ick! Nobody needs a rotting brussel sprout in their life!

I didn't know where else to go. So I just came back here. I have absolutely fabulous news, and no Mom to call. She would have jumped up and down and been so excited. I called my grandma, but she just burst into tears, so...I thought I'd give this a try. I set the curve! I kicked butt! I took an exam last week in world's hardest course in a graduate program that is ranked in the top 20 in the nation...and I cleaned house. Despite everything that has gone on, I survived. I made it. I didn't wait for light at the end of the tunnel, I simply dug out the side of the tunnel. And it hurts so much because my Mom was my biggest cheerleader and I can't call her up. My professor gave me some funny looks because I sobbed through the second half of the test, apparently stress causes a break down. But even still....I made it. I more than made it. I stomped on it. I'm wondering who I am and what I've done with myself! I have so many mixed emotions, from happy to sad, overjoyed to angry. All over an exam. I thought lung cancer was the roller coaster, but I think the aftermath might be worse.

My Mom kicked lung cancer's butt in her own way. It might have taken her body, but it never took her soul, her heart, or her ability to give me "mom" eyes, right up to the end. (You know the ones, very similar to the "teacher" look...which, being a teacher, she was really good at.) You hear people say it all the time, they don't want a funeral, they want a party. So I threw one heck of a party. Ok.....I fell apart, so I called in reinforcements who threw one kickin' party. Every table had beautiful pink flower arrangements, with sea shells and sand. In the background we played the play list that she requested, The Beatles, Louie Louie, Jimmy Buffett. There was one of those gigantic palm trees that light up. Where the girls came up with that on such short notice I'll never know. Margaritaville has nothing on the celebration of my Mom's life!! Yes, we served beer, and of course, her favorite pink wine. True to southern style, there was food galore. It was exactly what she wanted, and it was fabulous, just like she was. Did I know this day would come? Yes. Was I ready for it to come? Definitely not. Am I going to survive? hmmm.....one day, yes, I will have survived. In the meantime, to be honest, it's just going to suck. So many things have already happened and I want to pick up the phone and call her. I got the research position I was going for, I aced my first assignment this semester (I was even amazed at myself), I'm going full steam ahead into the world of PhDs, I think I might have picked out a house plan and a neighborhood, I finally got my car tagged (took about 8 months....I was preoccupied). And it's only been two weeks. People around me keep saying that they are amazed that I am so strong and that they couldn't have kept going like I have. But what's on the outside is completely unrelated to what's on the inside. I guess they expect me to fall in a sobbing heap on the floor at any given moment, but my sadness just isn't going to come out that way. Mine is just an empty feeling on the inside, like some internal organ fell out and now there's just a big hole. And that's ok, there's no wrong way to miss your Mom. But I miss her so.......