I'm not really sure how to start this one out. Mom died in November of pneumonia and sepsis. She was admitted to the hospital by ambulance in October and never really came out of "it", wherever she was. There were moments, short minutes really, that she seemed to know we were there and made expressions at us or tried to mouth to us. But it didn't last long. The respirator kept her from talking, and she could not really see us, but i know she knew that i was there, and that my aunt and cousins were there. Sepsis, sometimes called "blood poisoning", can cause changed mental status and mutiple organ failure, all of which mom went through. I never thought at age 32 that i would have to turn off life support on my 48 year old mother. Years before, I went through the same process with my first daughter.
Something like that, watching someone die, has had an effect on me that i cannot explain. Seeing mom's face and sitting there with her as she left this earth was a life-altering experience, one that has left me feeling completely philosophical and unsure about life and death and our purpose here. She stared at me as she went and her eyes were so blue and in some kind of wonderment. At some point, she began to drift and watch something intently over my shoulder - no one was there that i could see, but i choose to believe that is was someone calling her home. The rest you don't want to know. I wish this experience on no one.
Since that day, i see mom's face in my head all the time. I never realized how much losing her would affect me, and how long it would take to "get over it". Even as the loss of my own two children follow me, mom being gone as taken a part of me that i can't seem to recover from. I still forget she is gone sometimes and catch myself thinking i should call and tell her this or that, something about what happened at work or school. I have not yet been able to spread her ashes, which is very ironic for me as i am not a person who keeps that sort of thing. I cry a lot, mostly in my car on the way home, sometimes in the bathroom at work, or when i climb into bed. And now. I freak out on my roommate sometimes, and I feel like i am in a hole that i cannot climb out of.
Everything about life seems different to me. I am different, my life is different, my purpose is different. Most people don't know what mom went through to have me at age 15, and how she refused to get the abortion her family wanted. She never had the life or experiences she should have had, and she gave up a lot to take care of me and my grandmother and great-grandmother. She was never the same when they died, and now i understand why. She was sad, depressed, and always wanted all for me that she never had. I try to live that for her everyday, and when i fail at something, i feel like i should tell her i'm sorry. I am all that she left behind as her contribution to this world, and the small family of me, my aunt, and my three cousins are all we have.
I guess my main purpose for writing this is to say that there is no time limit on grief. And you may never realize how the soul "works" and how short your life is until pieces of it begin to die and return to God. Mom was never perfect by any means, but she was the one who brought me into this world. And i made sure that, no matter how much it hurt me, that i would be there with her as she left. My roomie says i should talk to her, but i can't find her. He says she is there, that she can hear me, but I CAN'T FIND HER. All i want is a dream or a scent or something. But maybe we are not supposed to worry about those things. The plan is not up to us. I sure wish i knew how to be more accepting of the plan.
Well, that was a really long blog for tonight. It's getting cold by this hotel window. Time for some coffee and a big comfy chair.
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