I wrote this 5 years ago. It is heartfelt, loving and I am glad I write what I am going through. It is soothing to my soul. Reading my own words years later is helping me immensely. Especially today, now the 10 year anniversary of my mom passing. 4/2011.
(Written 4/2016). Yesterday was the 5-year Anniversary of my mom passing. I cannot believe that it has been 5 years since I last saw my mom. She was my world. Yesterday I made it through the day in a better way than the prior four years. I made the choice to remember the good, and it helped. At night, I went outside and sent off 1 Chinese Lantern in her memory. I do this ritual every year, but this year I decided 1 was enough, instead of 1 for every year she was gone. I try to believe my mom is receiving all the love I have for her with this little lantern flying in the sky, getting smaller and smaller as it rises into the oblivion.
My mom had been diagnosed with heart disease and had made small declines each year for over 15 years, but it all blended so smoothly that no one ever really thought anything was wrong with her. She had gone through a couple by-pass surgeries, and loads of other heart procedures. Each time, she was that miracle, and she’d brush it off as if it were no big deal. But now her heart was working at only 30%.
One day she went to the Doctor and the Doc sent her on to the hospital, where she was admitted. Her numbers were high, and not in a good way. My stepdad talked with me daily. I remember hearing my mom in the back ground with her witty, laughable comments. I thought: We’ve been down this road before, she’ll bounce back. But once there, things weren’t getting better and they ended up putting her on dialysis. Her blood needed cleaning. Her heart was not strong enough to keep the vitals, vital.
I was at a loss and didn’t know if leaving Chicago and going to Florida was necessary. I went back and forth, of course expecting only good, and then the resounding voice in my head – you don’t need to go. I only remembered that my mom made it through every single event of her heart health with flying colors. So it was hard to wrap my head around anything but success.
Then after a few days of her being in the hospital and receiving dialysis, she was going into a coma-like state. My step-dad was worried and spoke those words, but not truly sounding like he believed them, that she might not make it. I made reservations to go to Florida, but that was still a couple days away. I would arrive on Sunday April 24th, Easter.
Those few days of waiting were long. I dropped my son off at school and stopped for coffee at the corner station. When I got back in the car I asked for a Sign. A big one. Did I need to get there quicker? I turned on the radio and a commercial for the Chicago Heart Hospital was on. They were giving the hospital info with the phone number ending with R.U.S.H. “Yes, again the number is 1-800-352-R.U.S.H. That’s RUSH.” I thought, is this it? Is this my sign? I didn’t feel any different and after a bit, I pushed it aside thinking this is too weird.
Later that same day, after work and kids, I finished up dinner, cleaned the kitchen and finally by 8:30 p.m. sat down to watch TV. I turned on the TV and the same commercial was on at that very moment. The word RUSH was blaring across the screen, and the announcer was saying it loud and clear. “RUSH.” We have a 65” TV and the word RUSH was 2 feet tall. I had no doubt. That was my sign.
I changed our reservations to leave the next day. My two boys went with. None of us truly believed anything would happen that was bad, Gramma was always a trooper. We got to Florida on April 23, Saturday. We stopped to eat before heading to the hospital. I needed one last time to eat, look at the ocean and dream my mom was OK and all was well.
We arrived at the hospital at 6:05 p.m. Visiting hours just ended. I explained we came in from Chicago and they let us in. The unexpected was right there. My mom was not responsive; the many machines were keeping her alive and that coma-like state was true. Her body was giving up. It was a fretful night with many hard, bad, and bitter conversations with family members not present.
This woman I loved so much, that I had normal conversations with a few times each week was very sick, and I knew wasn’t going to live much longer. The following day we had a hospice meeting. There were 6 of us present. Me and my two teen boys and Mel and his two adult kids. Certain procedures were stopped, and within 2 hours, my mom was gone. It broke my heart, she was gone. This event shocked and stunned me, to my very core.
That was April 24, 2011. Easter Day.
After thoughts: During the next few months I saw 4 shooting stars, the first one 3 nights after my mom passed. We were all sitting outside, in Florida and it looked like someone shot off a bottle rocket. But it kept going and all of a sudden it went from a small white flare to a huge bluish-green burst shooting from right to left across the sky. Right above her Florida home, with the same 6 people still present. We were all still stunned. We were talking and drinking, reminiscing and crying and then that Shooting Star appeared. Someone stated: “An Angel just got their Wings.” That really brought on the tears.
Things have changed, and we have survived. My kids and I kept our relationship going strong with her husband, my stepfather. We enjoy our family. And yes, I still miss my mom.
The people who caused grief while my mom was in the hospital, are no longer in my life. They didn’t show up, and that’s their choice. Their bad attitudes continued after my mom was gone. There are people like that. They’ll do nothing, not show up and blame you, and keep blaming you. Regardless – that’s on them. Sometimes, those events are really Blessings in disguise.
Categories: Caregiver Helping others Parent Senior
