JG93's comments

The experience of losing a parent

06 Sep 2009 04:57 AM

My mother died in April of this year, and I still can't believe it. She was diagnosed last September with breast, bone, liver (I've been reading, and I'm guessing what happened is she had liver cancer, and it somehow spread to the lungs too?), and lung cancer (she's never smoked). I was 15 when she was diagnosed, but I never once believed she would die. She was a wonderful mother, and the most godly person I knew. I didn't think God would let her suffer, and die. Apparently, I was wrong. I'm homeschooled, so month by month, my dad and I took care of her the best we could, and watched her get weaker and weaker. But, I still clung a bit desperatly to the fact that God wouldn't kill someone that loved Him so much, and that I still needed her. The doctors told her in September that she wouldn't make it to the end of the year. When December came and went, even though she was weak and obviously sick, she was so happy to have proved them wrong. She figured she could overcome this with God's help (and that gave me more hope that she wouldn't die). From December to April her health declined more and more to the point of needing Hospice to help. She even had to spend her 45th birthday, in March, at the hospital. I had a significant homeschooling test I had to go and take on April 1st, so I remember the next week or so as my last days with her (whether I knew it then, or not). About the 7th, for some reason, her medication made her-- delusionsal I guess you could say. She called out loud for her sister that lives states away, called me her siblings names when I was with her, asked me questions/said things that made no sense to me, and asked for things but when I brought them she denied asking for them. And she always had a look in her eye; like she was looking through you. In a few rare moments of coherency, she told me she loved me and that I was beautiful, and called her little sister and left her a message saying she loved her. I cried so hard those few days because even though I still believed she wouldn't die, I was beginning to dread she might and there would be nothing I could do for her. On April 12th at 12:00am-3:00am I was to and fro, from my room to my mom's room when she called for help. I didn't want to wake my dad up because he hadn't been getting much sleep lately then. Eventually, he got up to help her, and I went to bed for a couple hours sleep till Easter Service at our church that morning. That was the last time I saw my mom alive. Delusional, but alive. At about 11:30am, my dad rushed in my room and woke me up. I don't think I'll ever forget his voice, or how he looked, or even the fact that what he said made no sense to me at all. 'Momma isn't dead, I just saw her a couple hours ago' is what I kept thinking. I intended to go in her room, ready to point out to him that she was just asleep...but it didn't go that way. She was dead. I was so shocked for a while, that I didn't start crying until I went back to my room with my two brothers (both 17) and heard my dad calling Hospice to inform them of her death. I don't know when exactly she died, but it was anywhere from 3am to 11:30am before we realized it. Just a month later, in May, I turned 16 and had to deal with my mother not being with me on such a day for the first time. It's been 5 months, and it still hurts just as much as that day and week of the preparations, but I'm learning to live without her here. Since then I've been angry at God, at myself (for not treasuring her like I could have all these years--heck, even the last few months I could have done MORE for her), at my brothers (by their 'unfazed' sort of attitude towards our mother's death and absence) and at my old school friends (for coming around for the funeral, giving me the idea that I might be able to get through this with my friends back, but then leaving when the dust settled- so to say). Also, I've been very anxious since her death. About anything really. Like, in my eyes my dad has ALWAYS looked the same to me, but since my mom died it's like suddenly he's OLD (he's 62 now), and I'm afraid he'll leave too, and I'll be alone (the brothers don't count). Or I'll be anxious about the weather, or homework. I have NEVER been this way. Before this, I didn't give two thoughts about the weather or my dad's age. Do you think this anxiousness is due to my mother's death or something my own mind has cooked up? Suggestions on dealing with this experience would be helpful. Thanks for reading this and letting me vent. Feedback would be most welcome.