The post that I wasn't so sure about...writing in the raw

I have been going back and forth in my head for days, weeks actually trying to decide how and/or if to write this post...I don't want it to be misinterpreted as a post to incite pity or sympathy but sometimes it's hard to write about anything aside from the giant magenta elephant in the room...so set up the circus tent because here comes the elephant.

Thursday, November 15th is the SIX year marker of mom passing away.

Six years.  My oh my what a different world this has become in six years.  It is so hard not to stew on the things that she has missed out on.  Six new grand-babies, new homes, new partners, new everything.

I'm just going to put this out there.  I. Miss. Her.  Every single day.  Seems like a pretty obvious statement but the intensity of the feelings still surprise me.  It's not that I thought it would be easy or that I wouldn't think of her but there are times that I physically ache for her.  And not just on the days that I am sick, because who DOESN'T want their mom when they are sick?

There have been so many changes in our family's lives, the dynamic, everything.  I think that the changes have been for the better, we are all much stronger people than we gave ourselves credit for.  We still get together as as family for the important events, that was a HUGE to do on Mom's list of things to do when I am gone.  This journey has not been a solo journey by any means, for any of us, in addition to my family I have had a huge support system of remarkable people who have uplifted me when I needed it.

I want to talk about mom's last days, and not because anyone wants or needs to hear it but because I need to get through the story of it.  I can't remember exactly when the date was or how many days prior to her passing that she actually went into the hospice room but I remember so much from that room.  I remember her hating it there, wanting to have a cigarette, trying to bribe me into breaking her out of there with a promise of a shopping trip with her and Marsha.  I can remember being afraid of leaving the room because I just didn't want to let her go.  I didn't want to miss any last moments that I could have with her because it would never and will never feel like it was enough.  When she was in a good moment we would talk about flowers (every kind was her favorite), we started reading bible passages but honestly it felt awkward and forced so we would just sit quietly and hold hands.  She would ask me if I was okay and I would tell her the truth sometimes, that NO, I am not okay.  I am scared and I am going to miss you so much and how do I become a grown up without you?

She had her days and nights mixed up, so I would spend a lot of the day sitting and watching her sleeping.  Watching her chest rise and fall, hoping and praying that I would not be there to see it fall down and stay down.  Towards the last day I just starting praying for her to have peace.  I spent a lot of time drawing pictures of butterflies and flowers and sticking them on the walls of her room to decorate it.  My niece Brooke also drew a lot of pictures, normally her version of what I had drawn, it was so incredibly sweet.

The last couple of days were so incredibly hard, when she not only was physically slipping away but her memory was going too.  At one point she said she didn't want me to stay overnight anymore, she was worried about me not going to work or of my new marriage suffering because of the time I was spending with her.  So being the stubborn girl I was, I didn't stay IN her room on the couch anymore, I slept outside her room in the family waiting area.

She died on a Wednesday night, her brother Bob had just come up from Alabama, I was out at my parents house with Marsha and Ryan and we got the call.  The immediate feeling wasn't sorry or grief, it was relief.  Relief that she didn't have to struggle anymore, that she didn't have to slip between being the amazing woman that I knew as my mom and the fragile shell that was there with us.  She HATED when people used the saying that someone "lost" their battle with cancer.  I remember that really vividly.  We all went to the hospital with the Reverend from the church that was next to my parents house to say our good byes and a final prayer as a family.  All of this seemed so surreal, to be going through this process when the person we were talking about and praying for was my mom.  I always looked to her as a guide on how to respond to things, what to do and she was no longer there.  The void was immediate.  Even when she was sick she was still guiding us on what to do, send a card to this person, here is the dill pickle canning recipe, etc.

I honestly don't remember much of the following days, they are so busy and I think that your mind protects you from remembering some of it.  I know we made picture boards and all of the normal plans and activities that one does.  On the day of her wake there were so many people there, it was a great outpouring of support for the family.  At the end of the visitation I just sat down on one of the couches and just started crying, it all just felt like too much.  My sister Tammie came over and just let me cry it out.  The day of the actual funeral truly is a blur.  I cannot remember any of the prayers but I do remember that Marsha wrote a really sweet note that the Reverend read, it definitely cast some humor and light on the heavy time.  After the service and luncheon my three best friends from high school and I spent the day together, sharing funny stories of how mom had impacted all of their lives.  She was such a positive role model and source of support to reaches far beyond our immediate family.

The following weeks were rough for our family as we were trying to figure out our places and footing in this new family dynamic. But we've made it through.  We've all found our new normals, how to live, breathe and embrace.  And you know what?  I think mom would be proud.

The lessons that Mom instilled in all of us are still here, to be strong, to be independent, to live every day to the fullest, to give 100%.  Family comes first and foremost, most times the small things ARE the best things, cherish the quiet moments.  I hope that for those who read this, can think back on a memory of Mom, a smile she shared, time she spent, the loving spirit she was.  This week presents challenges, a heavy heart and probably more than a few tears, but I know she is watching over all us, guiding us on this crazy journey and I am forever grateful for a mother who taught me to love with all of my heart, to make mistakes, to be proud of the person I am.

In honor of Mom, please hug someone you care about, tell them how much you love them and embrace your blessings, don't forget how important everyday is.

Peace and blessings.