May 2012

Morning Mourning

It's been 4 1/2 weeks since mom died. It feels like four and a half days, or hours. I can hardly believe it, actually, except that she isn't here. And that is so profoundly real. This daily realization makes mornings especially painful.

Mom talked alot about joy during her final days. I know she would want that for me and I'm sure she is experiencing joy now. But her absence is still so overwhelming. I can't yet feel joy. I am resuming normal activities during the day, though, even if robotically. Read more »

The Last Hours

It's been two-and-one-half weeks now since my mother died. I spend a lot of time reflecting on her final days. She basked in the physical touch and expressions of love that our family was given the gift of giving her. I treasure the moments of stroking her forehead, holding her hand, and telling her I love her...and receiving the same from her. She breathed gently into death as seven of us held her, silently watching and waiting...

Talking and Listening

Two weeks ago today, I went to my mom's house to meet a caretaker and an oxygen supply person to arrange increased in-home support for her. Mom had declined since I had last seen her, two days before, and didn't look good, so I stayed with her that night. She was worse the next morning so we went to the hospital. She didn't come home again, but I know she is home. I am muddling through my days right now but am functional, if only at half speed. I miss her deeply. Read more »