She never told a lie ... well might have told a lie, but never lived one.
I'm reminded of what I am loosing every morning as I look into the mirror. Although, everyday, it just seems to get harder and be worse. I thought it was meant to get easier as time goes by, and I begin to accept the fact that I am loosing my best friend. But, that is anything but the truth. It's harder as time goes by.
I was able to say anything to her, and she would accept and try to understand my reasoning for things. I would be able to tell her my darkest secrets and she wouldn't pass them on. She would take me for everything I am and not change a thing. All she would ever want for me is to be happy, and yet every time I think about her, my heart drops and lands in my stomach.
How can anyone be happy when the person you considered you best friend is dying?
I can try to be optimistic about her future, but that is setting myself up for hope, and in times like this - hope is fake. Hope does not exist in her future.
Her body has declined in such a rapid manner that there is no turning back for her. Her body has been overtaken and has been eaten away, never to come back. Clenching her hands into a solid fist, she digs her fingernails into the palms of her hands, because her nerves are telling her to do. Sitting back in her wheelchair, pretending to watch the television - her favourite past time - she only now sees some moving blobs like an abstract painting. When she wears her glasses, it almost seems ironic. Eating - also an old past time - is now a tube stuck in her stomach, providing her with what looks like a chocolate milkshake as her staple diet. Now just a shell they are feeding to survive, I wonder how much she can remember.
If she doesn't remember us, what will she have when she passes?
As much as I know she is in a safe, well maintained and staffed hospice, she is only just clinging on.
She is my best friend that I'm loosing. She believed in me. She has been dying since I was 14. She is my Mum, and I don't know when she will leave us.
How is something like this ever meant to get easier, when it only gets harder?
I was able to say anything to her, and she would accept and try to understand my reasoning for things. I would be able to tell her my darkest secrets and she wouldn't pass them on. She would take me for everything I am and not change a thing. All she would ever want for me is to be happy, and yet every time I think about her, my heart drops and lands in my stomach.
How can anyone be happy when the person you considered you best friend is dying?
I can try to be optimistic about her future, but that is setting myself up for hope, and in times like this - hope is fake. Hope does not exist in her future.
Her body has declined in such a rapid manner that there is no turning back for her. Her body has been overtaken and has been eaten away, never to come back. Clenching her hands into a solid fist, she digs her fingernails into the palms of her hands, because her nerves are telling her to do. Sitting back in her wheelchair, pretending to watch the television - her favourite past time - she only now sees some moving blobs like an abstract painting. When she wears her glasses, it almost seems ironic. Eating - also an old past time - is now a tube stuck in her stomach, providing her with what looks like a chocolate milkshake as her staple diet. Now just a shell they are feeding to survive, I wonder how much she can remember.
If she doesn't remember us, what will she have when she passes?
As much as I know she is in a safe, well maintained and staffed hospice, she is only just clinging on.
She is my best friend that I'm loosing. She believed in me. She has been dying since I was 14. She is my Mum, and I don't know when she will leave us.
How is something like this ever meant to get easier, when it only gets harder?