Just Over Sixteen Weeks
Hello, to all our angels out there. First - as the holiday season is upon us all, I wish you a very happy Thanksgiving, a wonderful holiday season and a very healthy, happy 2008. Please accept my apologies at being out of touch since the memorial service in July - explanation and some last words for awhile to follow.
This past Monday marked 16 weeks since my mom left this Earth for her everlasting life beyond here. Since the day I said goodbye to her, it seemed that I measured the time in weeks exactly as I did both of my pregnancies and the early days of the lives of both my girls. This is not coincidence, but rather to me, a very natural part of the process called the circle of life. The person who gave me my life left me way too soon. I imagine she measured the early days of my life in weeks, as well. When I say it out loud (or write it down), it highlights what a short time it has been since we said goodbye. I remind those kind souls who try to offer encouragement - they tell me that I should be feeling better, should be getting on with my life, my mother would not want me to be going on this way and would be downright angry about it (they are indeed right) - it has been barely over a trimester of pregnancy. For me in my pregnancies, reality started to set in about the second trimester. The "high" was over. Clothing stopped fitting. Furniture needed rearranging to make room for the new member of our family. Things needed to be purchased and others needed to be given away. Our lives needed a hard close look in preparation for what was to come. The parallels are uncanny to me as I go through the same exercises saying goodbye the the person who gave me my life. Not only is there much to be done administratively, but much more to be done emotionally. I imagine it will take me the full length of a pregnancy and beyond to do this work. Just some thoughts to those out there who may have suffered a loss - do it your way and in your own time. Not other's.
Despite my best intentions, I have not updated since my mother's memorial service in early August as things began to blur together around that time. Honestly, I do not remember much of that day except that the chapel at Holy Cross Hospital was filled to capacity. And the words that were spoken about her were truly from the heart and illustrated how she touched so many lives in so many different ways. Out of respect to mom and knowing she'd want us to thank as many who attended personally, we stood in front of the chapel and shook hundreds of hands. It was obvious to us that day that my mom touched many many lives. What a beautiful tribute to an amazing person. Her untimely death devastated a lot of people. Being where I am now, I can only again say that everyone needs to grieve the loss of my mom in the way that is best for them. Some need to forget it, others need to dwell in it and all the places in between. Wherever you are in the process, thank you so much for caring about her in the way that you did and continuing to care about us.
So where are we now? Facing holidays without her that will be more painful than the deepest cut. Facing the first round of birthdays - ours, our children's and hers - without her will be excruciating. I'm told the initial round of "firsts" is the hardest and after that it gets easier. I guess we'll see. Mom's house has been sold. Generations of family possessions that we never expected to be looking at in our own homes have indeed found their way to either Northern or Southern California. Mom's beloved little car is with me. The girls and I open the sunroof on a daily basis, look up at the sky and tell Mocko that we are taking good care of her car. My grandmother's piano sits in my sister's living room and my nephew (who is quite the budding musician) "tickles the ivories" as my grandfather used to say. Mom's dogs are being loved by Dr. Evatt and Vickie. It gave her such peace to know her pets would be okay.
In the midst of the administrative details and the sadness, I believe our work in the months to come will be in making sense of what happened to mom. There is much still that we do not know or understand. Shortly after mom's death we learned that we were on the wrong path to save her life. The individuals taking care of mom in her last days believe that she actually had two cancers, not one. She had a cancerous tumor in her kidney that was removed shortly after her diagnosis and it was apparently confined there. What was in her lungs at the time she was diagnosed wasn't kidney cancer that had metastasized, but instead lung cancer. It seems all along this journey unbeknown to us, we were chasing the wrong thing. We are devastated and confused - it makes the healing process all that much harder. Nonetheless, our cancer journey revealed many blessings - new friends, renewed relationships and an awareness that no matter what the obstacle that is placed in the way - determination and lots of love can give one energy and strength that they never knew they had.
In the wake of the new information about what disease actually took my mother from me, I've learned that I have an uncanny gut instinct and a gift for advocacy. During this journey, when I went with my gut instinct and advocated based upon it, I accomplished great things for my mom. When I went against my gut instinct and stayed quiet when I needed to speak up, it cost me. In the case of pursuing my initial concern that what was in her lungs and kidney actually were the same thing, I took the words of others who I thought were more knowledgeable than myself at face value and ignored my screaming gut instinct to push further. I didn't want to make things more complicated for mom or slow things down when she already felt they were moving too slowly. Ignoring my gut instinct in this case I am certain cost me valuable time with my mother. I believe that we'd have at least had this next round of holidays together if not more time. I will never again distrust my gut instinct.
Probably the biggest learning throughout this journey and the thought I will close with is this one - understand the fragility of this thing we call life. As the holiday season approaches, I will offer this "aha" of mine in the hopes that something good comes out of it - know today could be your last day. I'm not talking about the flowery thoughts that you get every now and again when someone forwards you a story on your e-mail. I'm telling you the truth. Tell people you love them. Go see them as often as you can. Mend fences. If something like a serious health problem arises with someone you love - DO NOT WAIT. It is as easy as jumping in a car or booking a plane ticket and clearing your calendar for 24 hours. It really really is. And if you think you need to wait for an invitation or that you might be intruding, I will assure you that you probably aren't.
Our best friend was diagnosed five years ago with a serious advanced colon cancer. Initially we thought it was caught early. I wanted one of us to fly to Boston to be with him. He said "no" probably because he didn't want to inconvenience us and maybe he didn't think he needed anyone around. During the surgery, they found the situation to be drastically more serious than initially thought. I called the airlines and had my husband booked on the first flight out the next day with a return 24 hours later. I did this on the advice of a very wise friend who said we needed to take the decision out of our friend's hands and place it in our own. He was facing a life-threatening diagnosis. At that moment, we as his best friends knew better than he did what needed to be done. My husband called him and didn't ask but rather told him "I'll see you tomorrow." To which our friend responded "You will??!!! Great!" and hung up the phone. The next day they had a wonderful and very necessary, but short visit. We returned several more times throughout that year.
During her last days, my mother appreciated the visits from those she loved most in the world, yet she was keenly aware and spoke of those who she knew she'd never see again and hadn't seen a long time even before she was diagnosed with cancer. I'm so very sorry I wasn't able to get those people who she wanted to see to her in time despite my best efforts. I'm sure I gave mixed messages of optimism and fear because that roller-coaster was our reality for most of the battle and for that I'm sorry. The message here to those who can hear it - please don't wait. Life is short. And seeing someone for the last time (whether you feel the need to or not or whether you think you can or not) and making it special is sometimes the greatest gift one can give another person. I wish people could have seen mom's hospital room in those last weeks - there were white tablecloths, china and crystal. There was wine and festive conversation. One of the consultant physicians on mom's case seemed to always visit during these mealtimes. He said it was something he'd never quite witnessed before in his professional career. My uncle was one such visitor and the reason for one of the festive events I described - he offered the good doctor a glass of wine and a chair. We knew the doctor was just being professional and polite by declining the invitation. To those who made it to see mom, I thank you from the bottom of my heart - you gave us all an incredible gift.
I will close for now by thanking all of our angels who have been there throughout this journey. I've added some sections to the blog including inspiration and a new section called "Taking it on the Road". The inspirational blog sites are those of friends I've made during this journey. Their humor, insights and determination have kept me going. I've also offered some of what we learned by "hitting the road" and how traveling all over the place for mom's health care had its good and bad and how being organized with medical information and records can really help.
We will continue to miss our mom and wonder where she is. My six year old - who has the benefit of a solid foundation of faith that only starting in earnest at youth can bring - is absolutely certain. Almost daily, she clasps her hands and looks up and says - "Mom, she's in Heaven of course." My daughter has this genuine look of true happiness and joy in knowing that my mom has made it to the place that she thinks we all hope to go some day. I've only seen this kind of deep faith one other time in my life. To those who knew Elsie - the angel who came to help my grandparents when my mom was three and never left our family until she died many years later - Elsie had this same kind of faith. When she'd get the news of someone's passing, she clasped her hands and looked up with a smile that looks just like my daughter's (who is Elsie's namesake). Elsie always knew that where we were going was a far better place than where we are now. So on my saddest days, like today, when I wonder where mom is and how she got there, I close my eyes. I see my mom going into a ray of light. There at the end of light stand my great grandmother, my grandparents, my brother, my cousin, friends and family and, of course the animals, who have gone before us. Elsie is standing in front of all of them with her arms out and when my mom arrives, Elsie hugs her and says "Susie, welcome. We've been waiting for you."
Blessings to everyone. It has been very quiet since mom's memorial service. We miss you all very much. Please stay in touch.
Thanks to you all for reading....debbi