Tag Archives: grief

missing mom

Posted on by

My mom’s dog Ellie on her perch keeping watch

For many months now my family has been struggling to understand why my seventy-four-year-old mother was so sick and what we could do to help make her better. She has a somewhat rare form of COPD called bronchietasis, the cause of this illness is not well understood and unfortunately the treatment for it has been limited and unsuccessful. For quite some time we have been walking that heartrending line that those with serious illness and their families must walk, that difficult path where hope and acceptance meet and retreat then meet again. My mother has grown weary of the dance. She has stepped over to acceptance and she is asking us to do the same and so we are going to begin hospice care.

I sit and talk with her about her death now. She wants to know how long it will take. I tell her I don’t know but we will do everything we can to keep her comfortable. She says there are things she wanted to do, get organized. I tell her that she is still here and we can still do them. She says she wanted to write each of her children a goodbye letter. I tell her that she can dictate the words and I’ll write them down for her. She says she wanted to clean out the desk and throw away old bills. I reassure her that my dad will take care of that. She told me that her little dog Ellie is going to miss her and I said, “Yes, you’re right mom, she really is going to miss you.”

I could add a few words of wisdom about now, something about it all being okay because it’s the natural cycle of life, or she’s crossing over to a better place, or she’s had a good long life. And sometimes that is how I feel. But the truth is, most of the time it’s not okay. My mom is dying and any way you look at it…it is simply unacceptable.

*I wrote this post the day before my mother passed away. It’s been two months now and I just came across it while cleaning up my draft files on WordPress. This Saturday we are having a big open house in honor of my mom and I really do look forward to seeing family and old friends we don’t often get to see anymore. I’m still searching for those words of wisdom that will make everthing okay, but the thing is I want to lay my head down on my mother’s lap, feel her stroke my hair gently, and hear them from her.

play ball

Posted on by

I’ve been thinking about grief and stress and how people deal with life when things go very wrong and whether you can really “choose” your reaction to the curve balls that life throws you. And life will throw you curves, that’s a given for all of us eventually and one that I sometimes think we try too hard to shield our children from, especially here in 21st century America. Everybody has “stuff”, so I wonder, why do some people’s knees buckle under the weight of all that stuff, while other people seem to accept that weight, do a few push-ups, and use it to grow stronger?

It’s not the load that breaks you down – it’s the way you carry it. ~Lou Holtz

home

Posted on by

So we ran away from home for five days and tried to put some space between us and the grief. The hustle and bustle of traveling, the sights and sounds and the bright warm sun of another place, a place miles and worlds away from where “it” happened temporarily slowed down the cracks forming in our hearts. Of course, the only way out of grief is to go through grief and I know that is what my son and his sweet wife will be experiencing for a very long time.

Human pain does not let go of its grip at one point in time. Rather, it works its way out of our consciousness over time. There is a season of sadness. A season of anger. A season of tranquility. A season of hope. ~Robert Veninga

spring wildflowers

Posted on by

Every spring I can see these white wildflowers blooming in the commons behind my house. This year I walked out and photographed them so I could find out what they were. I discovered a great web site for identifying wildflowers, My Wildflowers.com where I figured out that they are Sanguinaria canadensis, commonly known as Bloodroot. Turns out they produce a rather nasty toxin called Sanguinarine, which interestingly enough the FDA has approved for use in toothpaste as an anti-plaque, antibacterial agent. Hmm, think I’ll run up to the health food store and get me some Tom’s of Maine Toothpaste.

We are all trying to stay busy around here, trying not to live completely in our heads and reliving the pain of the past week, yet leaving ourselves time to honor our sadness too. The baby was due a week before my birthday on September 7th, which this year also happens to be Grandparent’s Day. Our lovely daughter-in-law’s birthday is coming up soon and me and Mr. bookbabie decided to take the kids on a short trip, we all feel like we need to get away.

Nature always wears the colors of the spirit. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

september dreams

Posted on by

When I first heard Josh Groban and Charlotte Church sing that song at the closing ceremonies of the Winter Olympics in Salt Lake City it brought tears to my eyes. Not because it was such a beautiful song, which I think it is, but because it was just after 9/11 and as I watched that moving production, in my minds eye I could also see the twin towers falling. The contrast between such beauty and such grief was simply overwhelming. I find myself overwhelmed once again today by these contrasting emotions because my son and our daughter-in-law are no longer expecting their first baby in September.

After a difficult year with my mom’s continued illness and financial worries at our small business, the news that we were going to become first time grandparents brought my husband and me much joy. Unfortunately, with the possibility of great joy comes the possibility of great sorrow. When you go through tough times you tend to grab on to that one ray of bright light and hold on for dear life and when that light goes out you fall fast and you fall hard and boy does the landing hurt. But most of all we hurt for our son and his wife. Before they even had the opportunity to know the joy of holding their first baby in their arms, they have had to face the pain of letting go, of saying goodbye to their sweet September dreams. Our hearts are broken. Yet surprisingly, rising up from this sea of grief my husband and I have found a new light, a new blessing to be grateful for as we witnessed a loving young couple grow stronger in spirit and closer together during some very dark days. We are so proud of them, we feel honored to be their parents and we now know more than ever what wonderful parents they will be someday.