4 days later
It was a Friday morning and again with surprise Mom hung on for yet another night. It had seemed since Wednesday she wasn’t going to make it through the night. I was at a crossroads that morning. I didn’t want to leave her behind, but she could hang on for days; we just didn’t know. Work kind of had me in a stranglehold that morning and I had a CT scan scheduled in Cincinnati. I didn’t want to leave, but I felt like I had to.
Kim, my sister, intervened and asked me a very difficult question. Not because the answer was difficult, but just facing the very thought –
“Have you said goodbye to Mom yet?”
I had not.
“She’s waiting for you to say goodbye.”
That may have been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.
In short, one year ago, I basically just told her to go. It’s OK to go. I then proceeded to leave to head to a very untimely drug test in Batesville, and at the crossroads of still jumping on to 74 to Cincinnati to work and for that CT scan or just going back home to Mom, I jumped on the interstate.
Within a half hour of arriving at work I got the call.
She said goodbye.
It was Mom mode for the next several days. I had to leave work, grab by suit and shoes, and race back home to watch her leave home for the final time. It was Earth shattering, but I had to be there.
4 days after learning my diagnosis I had to put it all behind and even go behind the scenes at a funeral home for the first time. While I was questioning my own morality I had to walk around caskets and urns on display for sale.
Nothing seemed right about this. Nothing seems right when you have a hole punched in your heart.
At the funeral not only was I grieving, but I was in terrible pain. It took everything I had to keep on standing with only a few knowing about the double whammy I had been handed in the past week. I had even asked Dad for a little pillbox as I was popping ‘prescribed’ pain killers every couple hours. Many were wondering, who had not seen me in awhile, why I was swimming in my suit?
Today, despite feeling like Florida outside, it was eerily cold in the house this morning. Dad hadn’t turned on the christmas lights yet and I wasn’t going to change that. I drove out to the cemetery for a visit and it was empty and cold as well. Despite the weather it’s cold inside today.
She’s gone, but I’m still here today. I will continue celebrating the warmth and love that she surrounded us with in the past, present, and future. That’s what we have to remember today.