It’s been two days now since my mother died, and I’m just beginning to plumb the depths of the hole her absence leaves in my heart. I know that this will take much more than two days to discover – in fact, I still can’t really believe it’s true.
In the days leading up to her death, as her lucid periods became shorter and less frequent, and her periods of physical discomfort became greater and more frequent, I longed for her death to arrive soon. I’m not ashamed or embarrassed to admit it. It was hard. Terribly, horribly hard. It was hard to see her suffer, and not be able to ease that suffering. It was hard to hold her hand bravely and speak soothing words, when no position could bring her comfort, and even in sleep her brow furrowed with pain. It was hard to sit up most of the night, alert to each sound and each silence, knowing that I was powerless in the face of her disease.
That was all very, very hard.
But the second she was gone, I knew that this – her absence, the hole she leaves in our hearts and our very lives – this was worse. And I realized that although I had hoped for her death as the only possible end to her suffering: I did not want her to be dead. Because even in the most advanced stages of her illness, my mother was a powerfully positive presence in the lives of her family. In her words, she gave us wisdom. In her embrace, she gave us comfort. In her existence, she gave us love.
Now, in her absence, she gives us her legacy. And so we pick ourselves up and begin to live up to it.
I am so very sorry for the loss of your mother. It has been emotional to follow the journey from the diagnosis to now, between the blogs of you and Jen. I hope that you’re able to take some comfort knowing that her pain is gone and she’ll forever be in your memory as an inspiration and an amazing example of love.
Take care.
Wow….I am so sorry for your loss! I have no words left to express my feelings after reading your story. You and your sister are very courageous and strong, just like your mother. The both of you are lucky to have each other. I am sure your mother was proud to have two daughters that stood by her until the end. Thank you for sharing something so recent, intimate and personal. I am sending you both prayers. Thank you.
I am so truly sorry for your loss. I can only begin to imagine how difficult this year has been for you and your sisters. As I have followed your blogs you have both made me laugh, cry, and appreciate the family around me. Thank you.
You and Jen have both written eloquently about this experience and I have used your posts to help me think about and process the loss of my Mom as I followed your journey. Thank you for that.
The wholes left in our lives once our mothers leave are deeper than I think we could have imagined. But I am noticing now… about a year and a half later… that life has a way of slowly filling it in. I don’t know yet if it will ever be completely filled up. I suspect not, but it is finally getting a little easier.
I hope my experience gives you hope that this pain, this horrible ache in your heart and your mind, will eventually ease.
I’m so sorry for your loss, Kath. I have been following this difficult journey through yours and Jen’s blogs and I know you have a close and loving family and that you will support each other.
Once again, we have each other. She entrusted us and we will not let her down.