You know what I did today? I drank wine out of a mug so my son wouldn’t question me. It was 12:30 in the afternoon. I was feeling so depressed that I thought it might help. It was that second mug that finally put a dent in it.
I realize that the trauma of my mother dying is making me depressed. Very understandable. This may be the most normal reaction I’ve ever had to anything.
I have to get my act together. I think it’s the three weeks on overdrive trying to make her feel comfortable, help my family and come to grips with her dying. Now with nothing left to do I feel like I’ve fallen off the edge of a cliff. That’s when the depression set in.
It’s “normal”, but when have I ever been normal?
My mum died yesterday. I saw her body and the realization fell on me. She’s really not here anymore. I feel scared. That’s the last feeling I thought I’d feel. I’m a grown woman with a family of my own and I’m scared my mother isn’t here anymore. What if I need her?
I am crocheting and thinking. I crochet a dish cloth for my sister once every three or four years. This one is a reddish pinkish color. I contemplate whether it is a tomato or real red while my mother lies dying in her hospital bed. All I have done the last three days is think. I stare and think.
Someone said to me the other day when they found out that my mother was dying,
“Well, we all have to go through it don’t we?”
“No, “we” don’t”, I thought, “You have know idea how I am feeling. My mother isn’t like yours. She is amazing, smart, funny, interesting. She makes you feel like you are the only one in the world that matters.”
I’ve been like this all week. Anything someone says I take it as a personal affront. Everything is just trivial now. Bills, work, going the speed limit, laundry.
Does everyone feel like this when their mother dies? I had no idea. I was always sympathetic, but I had no idea it was so debilitating emotionally. The sadness is almost overwhelming.
All those “never agains” just keep piling up in the back of my mind.
My mom was diagnosed with terminal ovarian cancer today and I want to rewind time to last Saturday when life was trivial.
We have had rocky times especially in the last fifteen years or so. When I talk to her now in between her dementia and pain she is the sweet, funny, smart mother that she often wasn’t. I am grateful that I can at least get that mother now. Of course, that is what makes it even more poignant.
All that wasted time.