My heart bleeded, girl

Yesterday was seven years since my mom died. It seems like such a long time ago. And whoa, what a surreal weekend that was. It's been a while, and I know I already said thank you, but I was thinking this morning how grateful I was to silveryscrape, hammerhead22, coolwhipdiva, alittleblue and tangeriner for helping me get through that weekend. Steph, ♥

You guys who knew me back then know how guilty I felt about not being there. And maybe I've rationalized the hell out of it, but I've finally found some peace with that, finally realized that I don't think she wanted me there. I don't think she wanted me to see that. And I also finally realized that there's part of me that's glad I wasn't there, that I didn't want to see it happen any more than she wanted me to.



I used to listen to lots of Nsync on my drive to and from Tennessee that spring and summer. Chris's song "I Will" was kind of a promise, in my mind, that I would be there, not just when she died, but before. But I was working and could only get away on weekends. And it was a ten hour drive. And I probably spent more of those weekends going to see JC than I should have. (Fishkill!) But she stopped letting me stay at their house when I went down, I had to stay with Dad's sister. She and Dad both agreed it wore her out when I was there, partly because she felt she had to front that she felt awesome, and partly because of the excitement of seeing me. And had I just gone down to stay, she would have hated the implication that she was dying. She was so angry - as was I - when Dad sold her car. It felt to her as if he'd given up on her. She was so mad at him for living when she was dying, anyway. And over the Fourth of July, Erin and I were supposed to go down and she called and said don't come, she felt too bad. Erin was crushed that she didn't get to say goodbye. And then Mom called and said, okay, come, but it was too late because the weekend was over and Erin had to work. So I went by myself the next week and that was the last time I saw her.

She'd had a slight stroke in April and had been a little goofy after that. That last time in July, we sat and looked at catalogs while she planned what Christmas presents she would order for everyone. Then she said maybe she wouldn't be around at Christmas and we just sat in silence, in acknowledgment of that. Then she said, "I want to do something," and she stood up and started to dance, just slowly, in place, humming and smiling. It was hard to hug her, because she was so frail at that point, but I did.

She was just getting to the point where it took most of her energy to get dressed, and she and Dad were talking about calling hospice. But it was a small town, and she knew practically everyone who volunteered for hospice and she didn't want them to see her weak. The Monday before CFTC, she had trouble breathing and was admitted to the hospital. She told me on the phone to go to Miami and come see her after. They were saying two months, but I knew by her voice that it wouldn't be that long. I should have just gone to Tennessee instead of Miami, but I was so tired and thought I needed that weekend. It was supposed to be my one last fun thing before I settled in Tennessee for the end, whether she wanted me to, or not. So I went to see Nsync sing the National Anthem, and to spend time with Erin and Ashley and Mary and other good, good friends first. Mom was supposed to wait for me, but she didn't.

She wasn't alone, Dad and his sister, who was Mom's best friend, were there. Dad's sister was with her when she died. She'd been unconscious all night. Lois put some mascara and lipstick on her before she called the nurse, because Mom hated anyone to see her without makeup. I couldn't have asked for more, and Lois said it was very easy. But it's not that moment that bothers me, it's the couple of days before that, when Mom must have known. She told Lois she was scared, and that was something she never said.



So, anyway, tl;dr is that I still can't listen to "I Will."

*sigh* But I also can't go back and change things, so....It's certainly possible there was an element of denial on both our parts. She was the Queen of it, after all, especially when it came to her health.

I was also thinking about how there's a reason we tell family stories over and over. After someone has been gone awhile, things start to slip away. I can barely remember my mom's voice. Larry says he can, but it's like this echo around the edges of my brain, and I can't grab hold of it. She was my best friend for my whole life and it feels like all I have left are glimpses and flashes of memories.

I also realize that not everybody is lucky enough to have the kind of relationship with their mothers that I had with mine, or that they lost their mothers way too early. Not everyone's mother is their best friend. I can count on one hand the number of disagreements we had over the course of my life. And so I'm very grateful for what I had with her, and even though she died way sooner than anyone wanted, I was still lucky to have her.

Cookies if you read all that. Bottom line is I loved her and I miss her.