If You Hate RL Sadness, Don't Read This Post
I'm going to put most of it under a cut - I'm still trying to deal with the death of a family member, but I need to put some emotion down on "paper."
Nearly three weeks ago, now, I got a phone call from my mom's roommate late in the afternoon. I had been planning on dinner at their place, but hadn't left yet. She was obviously upset, almost tearful, and she said that EMS was at the house, and that Mom had had some sort of heart attack. She didn't say, not right out, but I knew Mom was dead from the way she spoke. I jumped in the car, texted all my friends to warn them I might be gone for a few days, and headed out. I spent the entire 40 minute drive going over and over things - what Mom's roommate had said, the last thing I said to Mom (it was "I love you," because I always ended my phone calls that way), what I would need to do to take care of things. I still don't remember actually driving - it was all automatic.
When I got there, our friend met me at the door with a hug and tears. She confirmed my worries, said that it seemed Mom had felt suddenly ill, because she had one of her heart pills in her hand. They had been doing some repairs in the house, and had a couple of carpenters working all morning. They said Mom had been OK - tired, as she had been for the last year or so, but alert and seemingly in good spirits. They went out for lunch - Mom and her roommate had given them a key to use that day, as the guys had done a lot of work for them and were friends - so they just let themselves back in after about an hour. They didn't see Mom at first, but assumed she was upstairs cleaning or something, then they saw her on the bathroom floor. They told us she was already cool to the touch, so she died quite suddenly soon after they left.
I have to say, those men were fantastic - they called EMS immediately, and even did CPR until the ambulance arrived. There are not a lot of people who will do CPR nowadays, not with all the fears about bodily fluids and disease. It was such a comfort to me to think of them trying everything they could to save Mom. And I know there was no way for anyone to bring her back.
When my sister and nephew arrived, we shared some tears. She had a harder time accepting Mom's death than I did. I truly feel that whatever made her uniquely "her" still exists. I feel that this life isn't everything, that death is only a doorway to our next experience. I feel that after death, we reunite with the great consciousness - God, Allah, whatever you want to call it - and we understand fully what we didn't understand while we were inside that human shell. I feel that we have the choice to ride the wheel around again, to be reborn and live here on Earth once more; or to move on to the next level if we feel we have learned enough from mortal life. And I hope Mom will be able to choose an existence where she is happier than she was in this one.
It pained me to think about her world views. Mom was always worried about something, always expecting the worst in any situation. I don't remember her ever being truly happy or ever getting full enjoyment out of any situation. There was always some flaw, some anxiety that ruined it for her. I said to her once, "Mom, when you die, it would really make me feel better if I could know for a fact that you had been truly happy just once in your life." Her reply? "How can I be happy when there is so much misery in the world?"
I never succeeded in helping her to see things from the other end, never convinced her that she was not responsible for the whole world. And I can't help but remember a story she told me once, which seems to sum up the differences between the two of us. She had just brought me home from the hospital - a long-awaited baby, after so many years of trying - and she looked down at me as I lay in her arms. "You had this expression on your face," she said, "as if you knew everything."
I laughed, and said "Maybe I did."
She said, "That's not it. You looked like you knew everything --- and you thought it was hilarious! That scared me to death."
.....................
Well, we got through the week, and arranged the funeral successfully. She had always told me that she wanted to be buried with her family in Virginia. My sister, though, thought she wanted to be buried next to Dad, in our family church yard. So I did what seemed to be the proper compromise - she was cremated, and I have half the ashes on my hearth to take back home to Virginia. The other half are next to Dad.
During the funeral, my sister and I both remarked that her youngest brother - the only sibling still living - looked very old and tired. We spent the afternoon at his house visiting, because we both felt he would not last much longer than his sister, and we wanted one good visit with him to remember.
Two weeks - to the very day, almost to the minute - my uncle woke up, had breakfast, went to sit down in his favorite spot, and was dead the next time my aunt came into the room. So we were all back at the same church yard, in the grave next to the one we'd just stood around, with Mom's flowers still surrounding the freshly dug earth.
This is very emotional. I know I'm not grieving for them - I'm grieving because I will miss them, which is a bit selfish, but is true of any death. You aren't crying for them, because they have moved on and are not suffering, but crying for yourself who will have to be without them.
My uncle's family is not dealing well. They aren't a very healthy family, emotionally and spiritually. They have always isolated themselves from the rest of the family, huddling together almost like they feel they must defend themselves from the world. Because of this, they are unhealthily dependent on one another, and have a hard time coping with stress on their own. I feel for them, and I'm sure they are going to have a really hard time coping.
I will be very surprised if my aunt is still alive after a year, maybe two - she looks like half of her is missing without my uncle. I know that many couples who have been together as many years as they have, "follow" each other when one dies.
Now I have only to deal with the anger I have - Mom was not good at financial planning. No matter how her roommate and I tried to convince her, she kept borrowing money to bail my sister and nephew out of their financial troubles. We even told her, "When you die, who do you think is going to have to pay for all those debts?" but she wasn't able to let go of her anxiety, and kept digging herself deeper and deeper into debt. What we didn't realize was that she had decided her insurance premiums - she had a good policy from her years of teaching school - were too costly, and she let her life insurance lapse. This means I have to pay for the funeral out of my own bank account - my sister doesn't have two pennies to rub together - and probably take over the mortgage on her house until I can sell it. I was just starting to get my own finances into some semblance of stability, and now I'm going to be back in the red again, and probably ruin my credit scores once more.
Death is a funny thing. You get over the grief, and then you find all these other emotions hiding, waiting to pop out at you.
OK, I'm done - you can go back to reading the usual blog. Thanks.
Nearly three weeks ago, now, I got a phone call from my mom's roommate late in the afternoon. I had been planning on dinner at their place, but hadn't left yet. She was obviously upset, almost tearful, and she said that EMS was at the house, and that Mom had had some sort of heart attack. She didn't say, not right out, but I knew Mom was dead from the way she spoke. I jumped in the car, texted all my friends to warn them I might be gone for a few days, and headed out. I spent the entire 40 minute drive going over and over things - what Mom's roommate had said, the last thing I said to Mom (it was "I love you," because I always ended my phone calls that way), what I would need to do to take care of things. I still don't remember actually driving - it was all automatic.
When I got there, our friend met me at the door with a hug and tears. She confirmed my worries, said that it seemed Mom had felt suddenly ill, because she had one of her heart pills in her hand. They had been doing some repairs in the house, and had a couple of carpenters working all morning. They said Mom had been OK - tired, as she had been for the last year or so, but alert and seemingly in good spirits. They went out for lunch - Mom and her roommate had given them a key to use that day, as the guys had done a lot of work for them and were friends - so they just let themselves back in after about an hour. They didn't see Mom at first, but assumed she was upstairs cleaning or something, then they saw her on the bathroom floor. They told us she was already cool to the touch, so she died quite suddenly soon after they left.
I have to say, those men were fantastic - they called EMS immediately, and even did CPR until the ambulance arrived. There are not a lot of people who will do CPR nowadays, not with all the fears about bodily fluids and disease. It was such a comfort to me to think of them trying everything they could to save Mom. And I know there was no way for anyone to bring her back.
When my sister and nephew arrived, we shared some tears. She had a harder time accepting Mom's death than I did. I truly feel that whatever made her uniquely "her" still exists. I feel that this life isn't everything, that death is only a doorway to our next experience. I feel that after death, we reunite with the great consciousness - God, Allah, whatever you want to call it - and we understand fully what we didn't understand while we were inside that human shell. I feel that we have the choice to ride the wheel around again, to be reborn and live here on Earth once more; or to move on to the next level if we feel we have learned enough from mortal life. And I hope Mom will be able to choose an existence where she is happier than she was in this one.
It pained me to think about her world views. Mom was always worried about something, always expecting the worst in any situation. I don't remember her ever being truly happy or ever getting full enjoyment out of any situation. There was always some flaw, some anxiety that ruined it for her. I said to her once, "Mom, when you die, it would really make me feel better if I could know for a fact that you had been truly happy just once in your life." Her reply? "How can I be happy when there is so much misery in the world?"
I never succeeded in helping her to see things from the other end, never convinced her that she was not responsible for the whole world. And I can't help but remember a story she told me once, which seems to sum up the differences between the two of us. She had just brought me home from the hospital - a long-awaited baby, after so many years of trying - and she looked down at me as I lay in her arms. "You had this expression on your face," she said, "as if you knew everything."
I laughed, and said "Maybe I did."
She said, "That's not it. You looked like you knew everything --- and you thought it was hilarious! That scared me to death."
.....................
Well, we got through the week, and arranged the funeral successfully. She had always told me that she wanted to be buried with her family in Virginia. My sister, though, thought she wanted to be buried next to Dad, in our family church yard. So I did what seemed to be the proper compromise - she was cremated, and I have half the ashes on my hearth to take back home to Virginia. The other half are next to Dad.
During the funeral, my sister and I both remarked that her youngest brother - the only sibling still living - looked very old and tired. We spent the afternoon at his house visiting, because we both felt he would not last much longer than his sister, and we wanted one good visit with him to remember.
Two weeks - to the very day, almost to the minute - my uncle woke up, had breakfast, went to sit down in his favorite spot, and was dead the next time my aunt came into the room. So we were all back at the same church yard, in the grave next to the one we'd just stood around, with Mom's flowers still surrounding the freshly dug earth.
This is very emotional. I know I'm not grieving for them - I'm grieving because I will miss them, which is a bit selfish, but is true of any death. You aren't crying for them, because they have moved on and are not suffering, but crying for yourself who will have to be without them.
My uncle's family is not dealing well. They aren't a very healthy family, emotionally and spiritually. They have always isolated themselves from the rest of the family, huddling together almost like they feel they must defend themselves from the world. Because of this, they are unhealthily dependent on one another, and have a hard time coping with stress on their own. I feel for them, and I'm sure they are going to have a really hard time coping.
I will be very surprised if my aunt is still alive after a year, maybe two - she looks like half of her is missing without my uncle. I know that many couples who have been together as many years as they have, "follow" each other when one dies.
Now I have only to deal with the anger I have - Mom was not good at financial planning. No matter how her roommate and I tried to convince her, she kept borrowing money to bail my sister and nephew out of their financial troubles. We even told her, "When you die, who do you think is going to have to pay for all those debts?" but she wasn't able to let go of her anxiety, and kept digging herself deeper and deeper into debt. What we didn't realize was that she had decided her insurance premiums - she had a good policy from her years of teaching school - were too costly, and she let her life insurance lapse. This means I have to pay for the funeral out of my own bank account - my sister doesn't have two pennies to rub together - and probably take over the mortgage on her house until I can sell it. I was just starting to get my own finances into some semblance of stability, and now I'm going to be back in the red again, and probably ruin my credit scores once more.
Death is a funny thing. You get over the grief, and then you find all these other emotions hiding, waiting to pop out at you.
OK, I'm done - you can go back to reading the usual blog. Thanks.