Grace

Reflections

The Christmas season is here.

It turns out, grieving hits in waves. Because it's a happy time of year for most people, it doesn't feel right to post frequently about Mom and Dad at my other blog. I'm already depressing the hell out of people with the few posts already there about these past months.

Dad has been gone for 9 1/2 months. Mom has been gone for 6 months. That sounds like a long time. It feels like a short time.

A couple of times I've read back on this blog. There are things I understand now which I didn't while everything was happening. Assuming someone might find this blog and be looking for help dealing with similar situations, I want to do some updating.

1. Mom's inability to walk/balance. Some of that was the drugs. But in retrospect, it was really due to her body shutting down, and the cancer. Cancer releases toxins which travel through the bloodstream and affect brain function. I now believe it was the cancer mostly which caused the walking and balancing problems.

2. Edema. Edema makes the body or parts of the body very swollen. It's a buildup of fluid in the tissues. When edema shows up, there isn't much time left. I could be wrong but I've seen it in 3 different people now and all died shortly after edema started to appear. Edema is a sign that the heart is not pumping as effectively. That's why the fluid builds up. The body is starting to cease functioning. We found that massaging the limbs helped work the fluid out of the tissue. Mom's feet and lower legs were swollen for a couple of days when she last came home from hospital. Massaging helped get rid of the edema entirely, which was lucky.

3. Suffering. For the type of cancer Mom had, and having read several other people's experiences who went through the same thing, Mom was unique. She did not suffer as much as most people. She actually had a fairly peaceful ending.

4. Heart murmurs. We all worried about the strength of Mom's heart due to her very strong heart murmur. It turns out, the heart murmur didn't cause any problems whatsoever. In fact, her heart was the last thing to stop finally. It just would not let go.

5. Signs of the end. The typical physical signs were largely absent. No discoloration of the hands or feet. Looking back, the greatest signs were the brain effects, the increasing inability to eat and drink, and the reminiscing. When Mom started talking about her Mom, who had died 30 years earlier, it was a sign the end was near. I heard stories I have never heard in my life. Mom would then end each story with "I haven't thought of that in years" or "I don't know what made me think of that". I read somewhere that when they start talking about deceased loved ones a lot, that means the end is near. I believe that wholeheartedly now.

6. If you reach your birthday, you live another year! So many times that has not been true. It wasn't true in Mom's case, Dad's or my sister's case.

7. Signs of the afterlife. Flickering lights that never used to flicker, buzzing lights which have no connection problem, doorbells going off on their own even with the batteries taken out, the sound of footsteps, their scent suddenly appearing in one spot, songs at the right time, songs at the wrong time, snow on your birthday when you haven't had snow on your birthday for years, pets staring at a spot of nothing for stretches of time, imagined or real voices when nobody is there except you, catching something out of the corner of your eye, mysterious help in situations where no help was available, people saying things to you which only your deceased loved one would say (particularly strangers saying things), dreams where you would swear they are alive even when you wake up.

If not for Hospice, I would have had a stint in hospital myself sometime in the past 6 months. Because I was Mom's caregiver, I am allowed to use their services for free for 13 months following Mom's death. That means I have about 6 months left. If not for them and their alternative health practitioners, my health would probably have me at the brink of death today. Massage, reflexology, reiki, integrated energy therapy - these are treatments which have helped my body try to recover. I'm still recovering but my health situation is bearable. That said, the symptoms of my disorder are still out of control. I'm not on the verge of an emergency visit though, which I have been on the verge of many times since Mom died. So that's improvement.

Since Mom died, I went into a firestorm of activity trying to get things done which she wanted me to do before she died. Things she'd been on me about or wanted done for her own reasons. This house has been serviced and some things upgraded. I've seen the dentist 3 or 4 times and my doctor several times. My doctor even made me have a physical exam, which I wasn't happy about, but didn't want to have a heart attack so I agreed. Everything Mom wanted done has been done nearly except for one last thing, which is just late arriving. And after all this, I felt no relief. She wasn't here to care. I heard her in my head, telling me those last things and "not to leave it too late" and rushed to get it all done before winter. It makes no difference. She's not coming back. But I am glad to have things done.

I wish that I had hugged her more. Respecting Mom and Dad both and not wanting to insult them by treating them like children, I followed their lead. Their lead was never emotional really. I remember sitting beside Mom on her bed and putting my arm around her. She actually rested her head on my shoulder. We sat like that for a while. We did that a few times. But mostly, she didn't want me fussing over her like that. The most I got away with was petting her head, because it was shaved. She confessed it felt soothing so I did it a fair bit. I wish I had hugged her more.

They know when the end is near. They detach, in conversation, by staring off behind the person in front of them. They don't worry near the end. It's all calm for them mostly until one last jarring episode takes them into unconciousness until the final end. It happened that way with both Mom and Dad. My sister too.

Dad knew what the weather was going to be like when he died. He asked me if it was snowing the last time I saw him. He was looking out the window while we sat together. I looked, saw it wasn't snowing, and told him so. He said, "hmmmmm". Dad had a few episodes throughout his life, where he looked over the land somewhere and saw how it was a hundred years or so before. Freaky. He only admitted to it twice, which is how we knew about it. The night he died, it was a snowstorm. He was unconcious by then but he must have seen it. He was childlike in behaviour the last time I saw him, just two days before he passed. Childlike in the sense that he had not a care in the world and seemed at peace, and happy. Dad was a worrier so I should have known something was up. He wanted a hug and a kiss. He told me he loved me.

Dad's cousin, who is 1 year younger than Dad, calls to check on me from his home in Ottawa, Ontario. He sounds exactly like Dad. He offered to be here for me as a father figure if I ever need anything. It's both hard and comforting to talk with him. They were so much alike. It's like having Dad here, but not. I am glad he's in my life though, Dad's cousin.

Grieving cycles. I'll be fairly okay for a month, then days of crying. Not crying 24/7, just several times a day, or all evening off and on. Anything can trigger it. I forced myself to get a Christmas tree for the cats. I've been crying ever since. Hospice explained it this way:-

All the first holidays, anniversaries, any eventful date, in the first year following loss, can trigger the tears and upset. You are not going crazy. Let it out and don't hold it in. Because there was so much happening at the same time last year, I couldn't process it emotionally at the time. I had to deal in facts, keep up with coordinating care for both of them and communicating with doctors and handling meds and making life and death decisions. Since they've died, particularly since I'm in the same time period now that everything started last year, it's only now that my body can process the emotion of it all.

And that's exactly what's been happening. December 15, 2007, for me, will feel like December 15, 2006. Whatever I couldn't process on that date last year, I'm going to feel this year. Every date has been like that and some days of no major significance. Everything from October 7th has been a growing sadness and ever increasing puddles of tears. I'm riding it out. I hate it. It hurts. You feel like you're going crazy sometimes. Thankfully, I know I'm not. But this..... this is painful. It's a good thing I live alone, and that I'm sick and not working, because honestly, I'm an emotional mess right now.

This too shall pass.

See Echomouse from now on

I'm half posting here and over at Echomouse. It's ridiculous to have two blogs now. I'll leave this one to stay but I'll only be posting at Echomouse from now on. No point writing the same things in two places.

Just wanted to let you know.

Tuesday, July 24th

Trying to keep illness at bay. Sporadically posting at Echomouse, linked in the sidebar. Reading Lynne's blog. Trying to feel better physically. Emotionally better but still not able to think clearly very much.

This grieving thing .... I only wish it wasn't so hard. Reflecting on Mom and how she felt after my sister died, I'm reminded of what I did to help her. Having someone get you out or just to talk to you makes a world of difference. But that's for the moment. When I get home or finish a phone conversation, it's back to me and the cats. Because I lived with Mom these past few years, we got a lot closer. That makes losing her harder I think, because she lived here with me. Everywhere I look I see Mom's hand in the gardens, in the things we have in this house. Every time I think about something that needs to be done, I still think of Mom, as if I have to discuss it with her. My brain knows she's gone but my heart just won't let go it seems.

Grief is hard to bear, for anyone. The 'process' is different for everyone. I'm just finding it exhausting. I booked reflexology and massage at Hospice but that doesn't start for a couple of weeks. I went to a friend's birthday bash on Saturday and wanted to be somewhere else. It was so hard to work up the energy to even attend. But it was good to go, to be there for our family friend.

I miss Mom. The cats miss Mom. I still feel like this - "where the hell did everybody go?"

Rest in Peace Lynne

When I started this blog, almost immediately, Lynne found it. She also had gallbladder cancer. Lynne and Mom seemed to be experiencing the very same things at the same time.

Lynne was such a comfort to me. Mom knew about her and I read Lynne's blog to Mom. They both kept up with each other through me. Yet they never met or spoke. They asked about each other and kept up with how each was doing. Mom worried about Lynne, Lynne worried about Mom, and me. I began to think of us as the worrying trio until Lynne showed me how peaceful and calm she was able to be with all of this. And then I noticed Mom was also peaceful and calm. The only person freaking out was me most of the time. I have a lot to learn from Mom and Lynne, even now. For years I will be reflecting on the two of them and Dad too. They all amazed me as they fought to enjoy life while living their last months, weeks and days.

Now they're in heaven together. I have mixed feelings about Lynne's passing. The same way I did with Mom and Dad. It's a relief to know they're not suffering anymore. But the loss is so great, losing a loved one..... even knowing they don't suffer anymore is not enough sometimes.

My condolences to Lynne's partner Patty and their children. Please stop in at Lynne's blog. She truly was an inspiring woman and had an especially wonderful soul.

Rest in Peace Lynne.
Give Mom and Dad a hug for me.

1 Month

This week has been very hard. In the midst of it, I spoke with dear friends who made it bearable. But then the silence returns.

Everyday, or most days, I write a list of things to do and try my best to get them done. I'm still behind. The days seem so long. Everything I did on Wednesday, seems like it was a week ago. The days feel so very long. Time is not clear for some reason.

Now I have a sinus infection which I hope does not turn into a cold. That's how that virus starts, the one my brothers and so many people caught this summer. Little brother is doing better though I still can't talk with him. Not being able to communicate with him makes all of this harder to bear. But at the same time, if I did, it would drag things on for him and make his life worse, so it's better than I can't and don't.

Eating has not been on my lists but I force myself when I remember. Today I'm determined to be better. I am going to see an old friend tomorrow and don't want to be a mess. Also seeing little brothers 1 and 2 and don't want to be a mess for them either. I'm thinking a lot about how Mom was, she held most everything inside, which wasn't easy on her or good for her, but it did make things easier on us. This makes me so sad, that she did that. Still, I do see how it made things bearable for us. So I'm trying, finally, to learn that from her. Sometimes, to keep things inside is better for those around me. Everyone is in such a precarious state it seems, or maybe I'm projecting that onto them due to my own state, but I worry about making things harder so best to be quiet as much as possible. So that's what I've been doing for the most part.

All those photos of Mom at my Flickr space have been developed, with duplicate sets for siblings and some enlarged copies. Almost 500 photo prints and it only cost a little over $100.00 at BestBuy. So there's a shopping/bargain tip for anyone. They do a good job and the prints look great, except for my lack of photography skills, which no developer could fix. Today, I have many videos I made of Mom to burn to DVD for siblings. Must not forget to do that.

3 weeks

On Tuesday, it was three weeks since Mom died. It was not an especially bad day for me. I tried to be normal, do normal things though I didn't do very much. But yesterday....yesterday was long.

Little brother has pneumonia. There's a very bad virus going around, which starts with a cold, and for many people then progresses to pneumonia. My older brother had it just before Mom passed. Then my little brother started to get sick within days of Mom's death. He can't even talk on the phone. Doctor's orders are strict bedrest for the next two weeks. I feel so disconnected from him. I'm very worried about him. His hubby, little brother #2, had his first car accident yesterday. The best news is that he was not hurt. But Mom's car, which is theirs now, that is in the shop as a result of the accident. It was LB 2's first ever car accident. Those two...I'm worried about them. They're handling everything fine they say. I let them know I'm here for them and can be on the road at a moment's notice if needed. They have lots of friends nearby but still, for me, I need to know I can do something if they need help.

Everyone misses Mom. I thought I was handling it well but now realize I'm not. It's hard, this grieving thing. An email arrive from the nurse who was with Mom and I during that last night. She is such a special sort of person ... a very good soul. Like a bright light and fresh air all at once. We're keeping in touch. I'm going to hospice today because I do realize I need some connection to others who are grieving losses. I hope it helps. My cats are doing better, though very glued to my side a lot. The little one, Morgan, has stopped vomiting. And last night, I think we had the best sleep we've had in weeks. I woke up with his furry body flung across my chest and neck. Poor thing, I hated to wake him.

Yesterday, the dietician from the cancer clinic called to see how Mom was doing and how I was doing. Due to a glitch, somehow the computer system was not updated to show Mom had died. And nobody told the poor man. I had to tell him over the phone and felt terrible about that.

There is another blogger who has the same cancer Mom had. Her name is Lynne. Her blog is a happier place than this one. Lynne is vacationing with her partner Patty and their kids. Please stop in to see them. She and Patty are wonderful souls and I know they would appreciate your kind support.