Posted on August 16, 2010 at 10:30pm
My mother died August 12,2009.It's a year later and I am so sad still.I still cry a lot and basically wish I was dead.I'm so hurt and think life is a waste of time and too difficult to continue. I have no energy to do anything.I have completely isolated myself from my family.I pushed them all away.They had a memorial service for her yesterday, at a my brothers catholic church.I didn't go.too sad. I left my children with their father after she died because I can't parent.I abandoned them.I'm… Continue
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I know exactly how you feel. My Mother died July 22, 2009 and my life hasn't been the same since. She passed from complications of COPD. She was my girl.... my bff. I can definitely relate. My Mothers sister is now ill. I can't bring myself to call her. I guess I am not ready to deal with this. (My daughter and I were the main caregivers for 2 years). People just don't understand that to a certain extent you just want to be left alone. Not having to answer to the all too familiar question "How have you been doing"? They really don't want to know. They really don't want to hear your sad story. In their mind they feel as though you should have gotten over this by now( like you have a time limit or something). However every one deals with grief differently. How can I "get over this"? For me, my Mother and I shared 43 years together. Or the comment "you know she is in a better place". Which in your heart you know is true, however it doesn't take away the pain. People go on with their lives when they are not directly affected but as for me I'm still stuck on the loss. It's so hard. I cry everyday. My husband and children try to understand me ( they have no idea what this loss means to me). Thanks for listening!
I just lost my stepfather, he had cancer and they had to remove part of his jawbone, we had grown apart over the last several years but I never loved him any less, he raised me since I was a baby and kept us 4 kids together when my mom died of cancer, I was 12. But, I could not go to see him and could barely speak to him on the phone because I couldn't bare to see him like that, I feel trmendous guilt over this and don't even know what to do. But I DO understand why you can't talk to your aunt. It's self preservation and sometimes you have to do that to survive. I am just trying to remember all the good healthy times we had together and not focus on those last few weeks of his life, he went quick after they found the cancer (2 months), he had lost his second wife just in April, he just wanted to give up and be with her.
The hardest part for me so far-- within a month of mom passing, as the initial shock and pain ebbed-- was the guilt....2008 was the worst year of my 51 years of life. I live in a small town now-Clifton, Texas (45 miles NW of Waco), I am originally from California-an Air Force "brat", and an Army vet myself, now married to an engineer for 13 years, childless by fate (not choice).
Anyway, I work as the Advertising Director and as a reporter for a small newspaper---love it, and see a side of life most don't want to-but absolutely love it. The same year that my mom struggled with chemo, radiation, and pain beyond belief---two states away from me (in TN), we were struggling here at the paper with a drama (former managing editor had been embezzling, destroyed the computer system, and took off in the boss's truck to Wyoming as she was about to be caught with a gambling habit out of control--$50 scratch off lottery tickets, 2 per day every day, that we knew of....well, suffice it to say-she left a horrible mess in her wake, that took the owner, his wife and and I working night and day for months to clean up...we are actually still cleaning up a year later....but a whole other story there!)
As to the guilt....my mom was imperfectly perfect...makes a lot of sense huh? :o) She was perfect in my eyes, but not in reality---mom had a dramatic flair, was a bit of a hypochondriac, and had cried wolf many many times before. So all of this, factored in with the mess at work, further factored in with-mom witheld the true nature and extent of her illness from my dad, and my baby brother and me---I think it was a heroic attempt to spare us...but the anger of having the choice of how to deal with her diagnosis and to be there to help her--that anger is still with me, as it was a huge factor in what I did or did not do for her. When the drama hit in June with the paper, my mom was doing pretty good (I thought), she was aware of what I was going through, and we thought we had at least another year with her-so, she said not to worry, to come see her in July, all was well, and focus on the problems here. She called me the last week of June and asked me to come home, that she needed me....when I checked with my dad, he said, no-she is fine, it is her medication that is depressing her, wait and come out when you planned to at the end of July.
My dad was unaware of the extent of her pain, and that she had for the third time, fractured her back. She wanted to go back into the hospital, but they had sent her home due to her benefits running out, and put her on home health care. Because she did not tell anyone what was happening-she suffered horribly for several weeks, before home health care said to take her back in. Long horrible story short, they induced a coma for several days until the procedure to repair the now third fracture could be done. The day she was scheduled for the procedure-they brought her out of the induced coma, when she woke, she felt the need to go to the bathroom and tried to get out of bed-but ended up falling out and split her femur (leg bone from knee to hip). Her body could take no more trauma, the procedure was done on her back, but she was placed in Hospice, I was there the following week, looking at the woman who bore me into this life. She recognized me, and was lucid enough to tell me how beautiful I was (to her! :o) and how much she loved me, over and over (oh my-do I treasure every repeat of that!) Then the morphine would take over and she would drift in and out of conciousness-coming out long enough to look at me and say things like, "Sandy, why are you doing this to me!" And I lost it, no idea what she was thinking or meant, I mean I was hystericaly losing it and kept asking her what she meant....and she would fade out, then back in, grab my hand and say I am so glad you are here, you are so beautiful, over and over. The hospice nurse explained that the drugs were talking not her, and that her thoughts were distorted to not take anything she said literally, give it five minutes and she would again think I had just walked into the room. In four hours, she would make sense and be "in the moment" for about two minutes...it was horrible, she completely wasted away in 7 days, her body just kept shutting down, she was in so much pain...it was just so incredibly horrible....and the guilt-that I still struggle with--thinking I should have gone to her when she asked me to a month earlier, versus, I did go when my uncle called and said come on home now-I did go when I knew to go. What good does my guilt do? None...it hurts me, it hurts my dad, and mom would be hurt because she was valiantly trying to spare us, and I need to honor her by not going there and hoping guilt will change anything. It just gets in the way of remembering her entire life, remembering her and I and our family as a whole picture....not just that last year, or last week. Out of respect to mom, dad, my brother, and myself-I did the best I could, we all did...and guilt, hurt, regrets--they all stand in the way of being able to remember mom as a whole, loving the life we all had together, and loving the life I still have as a result of the life I had with her.
Hope this helps! Would love to hear your story!
Blessings to you-and remember, the hurt is because of the love, let the love take over-it is way stronger than the hurt!