Babblings of a grieving person

Thanks so much for bringing me up to speed Kate ( + Jeff ) I loved the video of your Mum and her pets. What wonderful memories. There was a day when I could have read all these posts and been stoic about it all but those days are gone. I cry all the time reading other peoples stories. Thanks to all of you for sharing your joys, memories, and sorrow. what a wonderful community we have here! Every moment in life is precious and many of your stories have helped me to live in the now all the time. Patrice

Hello All,

It’s me, celoi, (Charlene), David Cook’s daughter,

http://www.mem.com/movie/MovingMemories.asp?ID=2203574

This “Grief Management- Babbling of a grieving person thread is a great idea… I know my mind wonder WAY BACK……

My father passed Dec 30, 2007 and my life has not been the same officially since diagnoses June 21st, 2005.
I did ALL I could humanly do. I am actually still in totallshock that I do not have my father….I never ever imagined in my life, I would be with out him. EVERY Sunday morning, betweeen 9-10am, I relive being at Hospice- ALL the drama from previous days as my father, lay taking his final ‘baby breaths! My dad was a very dignified man, with a large heart and always cared about others. I am very angry that its my father in a box! He was tired though….I can only imagine. My father passed at 9:50am on Sunday morning and I can not get out of my mind, his breathing, so softly and there was nothing I could do, but just watch. Every Sunday morning, I relive that moment!
Its not one day, or hour that pass, which I do not think about my father. We were so close. I try to think of the happy times with him, that keeps me going. He loved me so, so much and I will never forget him.
I personally think ‘people’ think you are stupid when you do not speak up..thats not the case.
When my kids cry periodically about losing him, it saddens me even more that they do not have such a warm person as my father in their life now. My youngest said he missed PaPa laughing at him. Yes, my dad was so full of life.
He wrote me a letter which I found after he passed and I read it over and over….
My dad was a wonderful man…

Hi Kate-what is your Mum’s name? I have looked all through your posts but can only find “my Mum” and I would love to connect a face with her but don’t know which face to look at. LOL Best to you-
Patrice

Thanks, Kate – your posts always bring a smile to my face – you have such a distinctive voice that comes through. You sound like a very well-balanced, upbeat and hardy person!

I don’t want you to think I’m downplaying your own grief, as I know it is just as painful as mine as and that grief just can’t be quantified or compared. I think you know what I meant, and it’s just harder to fill the time and the days when your time used to be shared so completely with another person. Sometimes I imagine what it would be like if my husband or daughter died — but then I have to think of something else, because it’s really unimaginable and horrifying.

You had a special bond with your mother and your love for her was so sincere because you understood that she needed her freedom and her independence, and you let her go without rancor. And she respected YOUR freedom -now THAT’s love! Not your conventional mother-daughter relationship, but just as deep – even more so, because you each valued the other’s happiness over everything else. It sounds like she was very much your friend as well as your mother, which was my relationship with my mother, too. No hierarchy, no guilt trips. My husband’s parents are very much into the “we’re your parents and you owe us and we still lay down the law,” which is totally repugnant to my individualistic spirit. My mother and I would laugh and laugh when I told her about the way my in-laws would try to lay down the law and give my husband orders about how we should live our lives, because if my mother ever did anything like that to me, I’d tell her to go to hell – and she would certainly have said the same to me!

Here’s to our mothers – so special and so missed.

Joyce

Hi Kate,
I think I have you beat when it comes to long posts, and you’re a bad influence, because I’m so tempted to just write down every little detail of my mother’s illness now, too — I’ve always been much more of a writer than a talker, and it really DOES help to purge some of the demons when you write it all down. Don’t worry – I won’t do that- well, not completely!!

Yes, the last days and the indignity of it all really does stick with you – it makes me angry most of all — but then you remember all those great years and it’s some consolation, but it also upsets me because there could have been so many more years like that. I just can’t get past it.

I know you mentioned that we all know that our parents will go before we do — well, I guess I never really accepted that, and still don’t – I’m stubborn. Funny thing is, I would occasionally tell my mother before her illness that I hoped she didn’t die before I did, because I wouldn’t be able to go on living without her. The last time I said that, I mentioned that I was worried that she might not live another ten years with her autoimmune hepatitis issues — and the phone rang about 20 minutes later and it was the doctor telling her that her blood tests came out abnormal. What bad timing on my part!!

Anyway, I was the baby of the family in every way even though I’m supposedly all grown up with a family of my own — and my mother and I did everything together, lived close by and had more of a friendship than mother-daughter relationship. We just shared everything. She was a terribly nervous driver so I drove her a lot of places, and she returned the favor by listening to my complaints and giving me perspective, making me laugh and helping me with my difficult daughter. I’m not saying that your pain is any less than mine, it’s just harder to go on with your life when your day-to-day activities involved that other person so completely. That’s why the death of a spouse can be so devastating – there’s a void there that cannot be filled and the days are empty of meaning when you used to see that person every day and share every little stupid event with them. I spent most weekends and 1-2 days of the week at her house, which was a gathering place for all our misfit friends (we collected stray people and animals) – and now everyone is at a loss, scattered to the four winds. I’ve had a few get-togethers at my house for everyone, but it’s different and my place just isn’t as carefree and comfy as her house. We finally have her house sold, the closing should be soon, and I just can’t be happy about it – that house was a shelter for all kinds of eccentric beings, myself included!

You’re lucky your mother had such a positive attitude, as I’m sure that helps immensely – unfortunately, my mother, who had the most wonderful, sarcastic sense of humor and could cheer ANYONE up, was just devastated by the thought of dying. She often said she wasn’t afraid of dying, just felt bad for the people she’d leave behind. She just wasn’t ready – she had so much to live for – and I think at the end we’re ALL afraid of death when it gets that near. And the pain — yes, that was her biggest fear, and it didn’t rear its ugly head until the end but it was enough to make me give her enough morphine to probably hasten her death. I’m grateful the pain is gone, but I still want her back, healthy and whole.

I admire your mother and her adventurous spirit (loved that clip of her!)- though my mother didn’t go anywhere exotic, she was a lot like yours – she sowed her wild oats when she was younger, though, and then turned her house into a carnival of fun and silliness. They both lived their lives they way they wanted to, on their own and on their own terms, so they definitely had lives that were well-lived. I know all this and I’m so proud of my mom, but the child in me refuses to accept any consolation. I just want my mommy back, irrational as that may be.

Anyway, I’m done purging for now.
-Joyce