A Year Without My Mom
A year ago today we said goodbye to Mom as she was placed next to Dad for her final rest. I hope somehow, in whatever way, they have found each other and are sharing their love for each other again. Actually, I hope they are dancing at some heavenly dance party. I never really realized just how much Mom liked dancing until she left us. I guess I should have known this. Her AOL email address was TLSdancer (TLS being her initials). She and Dad participated in square dancing and for years she directed a song and dance event held by our local school district. There were many other signs but being a self-centered little boy most of my life I never really picked up on them. Mom and Dad were a good dance team. They always looked happy dancing.
I get sad when I realize they are both gone, specially when I remember the events of their last days on earth. But if I think about the young couple who started out newly wed and ready to bring forth a family and live out a dream, I smile and my sadness slips away and I am left thankful for having been blessed with them for as long as I was.
This Christmas/New Year holiday was a whirlwind of activity and travel, family and friends. Mom would have loved the fact that we all got together at Christmas, in her house, to celebrate. Although the realization that this was our first Christmas without Mom was never far from any of our thoughts, we really did have a happy time together. A tear here and there for sure, but in all, we celebrated what we were given, and what we have, and did not focus on what we've lost.
For a whole year I really didn't focus too much on the loss of Mom. This was a slow year... or maybe it was a long year (is there a difference?). At times it felt as if Mom had been gone two, or even three years. Everything was our first without Mom... first Easter without Mom, my first birthday without Mom, the first trip to Gaylord - and the first Fourth of July picnic (that Mom loved to host), the first Thanksgiving/Christmas and New Year without Mom. I recognized these dates and their significance, but they weren't overly emotional for me. Maybe its because I had been through the same thing with Dad just three years earlier.
This past two weeks have been a bit different. These were the two weeks, a year ago, where Mom had her stroke, spent time in the hospital in Spartenburg, died, we held visitations for her, held a fine funeral, and finally, placed her next to Dad. I think these two weeks were hard because they were unique to Mom.
Several day/dates stick out for me.
Jan 2nd was the day that I got the phone call that Mom had fallen to a stroke. Colleen and I made the mad dash to the airport. We missed our connecting flight in Cincinnati and had to stay overnight before continuing on to Spartenburg.
Jan 5th was the Saturday of miracles. When we left Mom Friday night she had the feeding and breathing tubes in her. She couldn't speak, her eyes were closed. She could only moan and hold our hands. But Saturday morning when we got to the hospital, the tubes were gone, her eyes were open, she could speak a few gravely words. We all did happy dances. Saturday January 5th was the happiest day of my life. Mom spoke to each of us. Said "I love you." She was cracking jokes. She even wrote out questions when she was too tired to try and speak. She was planning trips to Gaylord, and looking forward to going home to Michigan and recovering. I didn't want that day to ever end. Of course it did. Mom went downhill from there. Likely had another stroke. Her heart was to weak to hold out. She never really came back to us after that.
Jan 11th. By this day all of the doctors told us it was just a matter of time. Mom's heart was failing fast. Mom did not want to be kept on life support. She had made that fact known to us. Janet, Nancy and I had to decide if we were going to take her off of the ventilator and other supports. The three of us sat in the special hospital waiting room reserved for family of terminal patients. Our family members were all down the hall waiting to hear our decision. It was around 10pm. I list this day as significant because if there ever was a day that my parents should be proud of the kids they raised, this was it. I am not going to publish our conversation, but I will tell you that we discussed our feelings, considered each others opinions, and then as one voice we told our family that we were not going to remove the supports that night. I believe we acted with grace and dignity even while under extreme pressure and intense emotional strain.
Jan 12th. A week after our "best day ever," Mom passed away.
Jan 15, 16, and 17th were the visitations and funeral. We really did it well for Mom. So many people turning out to say goodbye. These days were filled with receiving love and comfort from so many people. It was great to celebrate Mom's life and to share that celebration with our friends and family.
So this year, on these dates, at times during the day I may have been a little distant, maybe quieter than normal. You might have seen a tear if you looked at the right moment. One year has passed and I miss her so much. She is remembered in several ornaments on our Christmas tree... as Mom and Grandma. I like looking at them. I think of her often and sometimes forget that she is gone - I find myself thinking that I should call her and tell her this or that. But she is gone. And it hurts. God it hurts.
She is off, somewhere. Dancing, I hope. Dancing and smiling... and tan (she always tanned well in summer). Pain free, worry free, happy, and dancing.
I hope she knows how much I love her.
A year without my Mom.
I get sad when I realize they are both gone, specially when I remember the events of their last days on earth. But if I think about the young couple who started out newly wed and ready to bring forth a family and live out a dream, I smile and my sadness slips away and I am left thankful for having been blessed with them for as long as I was.
This Christmas/New Year holiday was a whirlwind of activity and travel, family and friends. Mom would have loved the fact that we all got together at Christmas, in her house, to celebrate. Although the realization that this was our first Christmas without Mom was never far from any of our thoughts, we really did have a happy time together. A tear here and there for sure, but in all, we celebrated what we were given, and what we have, and did not focus on what we've lost.
For a whole year I really didn't focus too much on the loss of Mom. This was a slow year... or maybe it was a long year (is there a difference?). At times it felt as if Mom had been gone two, or even three years. Everything was our first without Mom... first Easter without Mom, my first birthday without Mom, the first trip to Gaylord - and the first Fourth of July picnic (that Mom loved to host), the first Thanksgiving/Christmas and New Year without Mom. I recognized these dates and their significance, but they weren't overly emotional for me. Maybe its because I had been through the same thing with Dad just three years earlier.
This past two weeks have been a bit different. These were the two weeks, a year ago, where Mom had her stroke, spent time in the hospital in Spartenburg, died, we held visitations for her, held a fine funeral, and finally, placed her next to Dad. I think these two weeks were hard because they were unique to Mom.
Several day/dates stick out for me.
Jan 2nd was the day that I got the phone call that Mom had fallen to a stroke. Colleen and I made the mad dash to the airport. We missed our connecting flight in Cincinnati and had to stay overnight before continuing on to Spartenburg.
Jan 5th was the Saturday of miracles. When we left Mom Friday night she had the feeding and breathing tubes in her. She couldn't speak, her eyes were closed. She could only moan and hold our hands. But Saturday morning when we got to the hospital, the tubes were gone, her eyes were open, she could speak a few gravely words. We all did happy dances. Saturday January 5th was the happiest day of my life. Mom spoke to each of us. Said "I love you." She was cracking jokes. She even wrote out questions when she was too tired to try and speak. She was planning trips to Gaylord, and looking forward to going home to Michigan and recovering. I didn't want that day to ever end. Of course it did. Mom went downhill from there. Likely had another stroke. Her heart was to weak to hold out. She never really came back to us after that.
Jan 11th. By this day all of the doctors told us it was just a matter of time. Mom's heart was failing fast. Mom did not want to be kept on life support. She had made that fact known to us. Janet, Nancy and I had to decide if we were going to take her off of the ventilator and other supports. The three of us sat in the special hospital waiting room reserved for family of terminal patients. Our family members were all down the hall waiting to hear our decision. It was around 10pm. I list this day as significant because if there ever was a day that my parents should be proud of the kids they raised, this was it. I am not going to publish our conversation, but I will tell you that we discussed our feelings, considered each others opinions, and then as one voice we told our family that we were not going to remove the supports that night. I believe we acted with grace and dignity even while under extreme pressure and intense emotional strain.
Jan 12th. A week after our "best day ever," Mom passed away.
Jan 15, 16, and 17th were the visitations and funeral. We really did it well for Mom. So many people turning out to say goodbye. These days were filled with receiving love and comfort from so many people. It was great to celebrate Mom's life and to share that celebration with our friends and family.
So this year, on these dates, at times during the day I may have been a little distant, maybe quieter than normal. You might have seen a tear if you looked at the right moment. One year has passed and I miss her so much. She is remembered in several ornaments on our Christmas tree... as Mom and Grandma. I like looking at them. I think of her often and sometimes forget that she is gone - I find myself thinking that I should call her and tell her this or that. But she is gone. And it hurts. God it hurts.
She is off, somewhere. Dancing, I hope. Dancing and smiling... and tan (she always tanned well in summer). Pain free, worry free, happy, and dancing.
I hope she knows how much I love her.
A year without my Mom.