Still missing my mom

March 17, 2015

II have been feeling horribly depressed today. It should have been a decent day: after all, it was sunny and warming up a bit, with spring appearing to be well on its way. Yet, that is precisely the problem. It's been over 5 months and 2 weeks since she died--and we are now approaching the anniversary of her first stroke.

I want to provide a backdrop of her decline. Everyone in my parents' community seemed to marvel at how healthy and active she was for an 82-year-old. And indeed, she seemed perfectly fine until her first stroke on the evening of April 24th. Nonetheless, she appeared to recover so quickly and miraculously as if nothing happened: we were all very happy when she was released from rehab on the Saturday before Mother's Day. A few weeks later, we noticed that her ankle was swollen but her personal physician didn't think anything of it. The same thing happened when she saw him again the following week to have her INR measured since she was on Coumadin. Then came visits to her cardiologist and neurologist. No one suspected anything out of the ordinary; her cardiologist even went so far as to tell her that she did not have to be seen until next spring. June seemed to be passing fairly well; she looked so content when her sister's family came to see her that we all thought she was well on her way to recovery.

However, things changed on Tuesday, June 18th. What we thought was going to be an uneventful visit to her doctor turned into a nightmare as he finally decided to get an ultrasound on her right leg. It turned out that she had deep vein thrombosis and pulmonary embolism. The following day, bloodwork indicated that she probably had something in her liver area. A biopsy confirmed that she had bile duct cancer and that she only had 3-6 months. It was shocking and upsetting--but my father and I still hadn't given up hope entirely: I recall having read here on a bile duct cancer site accounts of people who had outlived their prognosis.

At any rate, she had a series of ups and downs. At first, we liked her oncologist; he seemed to have great credentials (Ivy grad and residency, etc.) and my mom was very happy with him. She wound up reentering the hospital again on July 8th, after a combination of fall down a flight of stairs (after I had told her NOT to go down on her own!) and a chemo treatment. Upon her return, it took nearly two weeks for those problems to resolve, but they were soon followed by strange abdominal pains after meals. She had an ultrasound in late August which indicated that some parts had gotten better, some worse, but that it was overall even after 6 treatments of chemo. It was then that I decided that we would really need a second opinion (I had already been aware of it but was waiting for her recovery from the fall and general discomfort to ease). Perhaps she should be getting gemzar and cisplatin, not just the former: I had already asked her oncologist during our very first visit but he ruled it out, saying it would be too strong for her.

Finally, on Sept 19th, she was sent to the ER by another visiting nurse. Little did we know that this would be her last day at home. Even though she seemed to be improving in the hospital, she suffered a stroke on the night of the 28th: we knew that this was pretty much the end. Nonetheless, her respiratory failure and death on the late morning of Oct. 4th still surprised us.

Flash forward to today. As I've mentioned here a few times on this site, the pain has sometimes been excruciating. So many memories play over and over again in my head, particularly those of April through June when we were most hopeful. It's been especially hard to return to some of the errands I did when she was still alive. I can't tell you all the times I've cried over my mom the first two weeks of our heavy snow: knowing that when I returned from shoveling our driveway and sidewalk, there would be no one to fix tea or chat with me. Nor can I emphasize enough how wistful I feel when I hear music that I heard back in England on her various visits to me during my grad school years. Or how bittersweet it is to see pictures of NYC on TV or online and recall all the good times we had.

Right now, particularly around sunset and nightfall, it feels so quiet and lonely. There's no one who can discuss the range of topics we used to discuss. There's no one to watch TV and movies with anymore; Bates Motel--our favorite show (odd, huh?) is going to be on tonight, but I don't know if I can bring myself to watch it. I try to divert myself by (window) shopping online, but it only reminds me of my mother: that there's no one to appreciate my choices, either for me or for herself. I have little company and no one seems to inquire after us any more. I had hoped that my acquaintance with some of my parents' own acquaintances would draw us closer; but this has not been the case. My father, as I mentioned, barely talks to me even though we share the house. The only thing that feels somewhat positive is working on my textbook because it interests me and I want to finish it in memory of my mom. But now I really have to finish off her probate stuff and taxes, which is worrying me silly. I feel so overwhelmed as if my head were about to explode, but I can't let my dad handle it as he is even more clueless with finance.

All of this demands relief; yet, what do I do when no one seems to want to listen? I don't want a therapist; I just want to talk about my mom and share memories of her. I have more to say, but I'll leave it at that as this post is already so lengthy.

Can anyone share some strategies or thoughts on overcoming these feelings?

P.S. I should add here that I am an agnostic and have never belonged to any church: someone who's more or less always believed that you can't prove the existence of God--but you can't disprove it either. I have once wanted to be Catholic (kind of like Oscar Wilde who admired it for its art, music, and architecture ) yet I just can't bring myself to join any church.

March 17, 2015

silverkitties!!, we have the same story!!!!!!! My Mom has been gone 5mo this past Friday, she was 80yo. I miss her terribly. Like your Mom, just a year ago she was in a great health. On March 19th, yet another anniversary coming up, she started on this Solvadi & Olysio treatment for her hepatitis C that she contracted as a young girl when she hemorrhaged (poor thing). They found the hepc at her age of 65 and it was treated well. At 80, her gastroenterologist wanted to put her on this new wonder drug that would eliminate the virus altogether. That was the beginning of the end... had we only known.

6 weeks into treatment she started to get really fatigued. I immediately guessed the medicine, but the hep doctor said it wasn't the new medicine to keep taking it, etc, etc. She got more tired, couldn't sleep, was having night sweats, on and on. We started to see many doctors noone could find out what was wrong and none of them blamed the new meds. She was getting sicker, weaker, nose bleeds, now needed a walker cause she was so weak. Her treatment ended in June and we thought that okay now that she's done with the pills, she'll get better, but she didn't, she just declined more. Test after test, doctor visit after doctor visit, blood tests, etc... finally in early August they admitted her and found that her blood was very thick. She wasn't producing platelets or good plasma. She needed platlet transfusions and plasma transfusions, ugggh! She was discharged and we were hoping we were on the mend, but it turned out she couldn't keep her platelets up and she was needing biweekly transfusions They couldn't find out why, they had no official diagnosis. We still believe the medicine caused this. In early October they hospitalized her again cause her blood was thick again, and she was getting plasma transfusions this time... and then it happened. I left he hospital 10/6/14, kissed her goodbye, told her I loved her, etc, etc... called her when I got home at 11:10pm, we chatted hung up. 11:45pm they called my brother and said my mother had a stroke. We rushed to the hospital. There she was in the middle of her stroke, trying to talk, her right side paralyzed. Sickening!!!!!! We were disgusted, scared, mad, angry, and incredibly sad. Our dear 80yo is having a stroke. She started to fall asleep so we thought but she was falling into a coma. She never woke again. It was a massive stroke to her brainstem. We took her home and she passed 7 days later on 10/13/14.

I have never had such pain in my life. She was my life. I feel like someone took a knife stuck in it my gut and ripped down through my entire body, yep that's what it feels like to lose my Mom. I am 52yo, she was my everything. I talked to her 5x a day, saw her 5x a week, we did everything together. Our father passed years ago and it was always us kids and our Mom... she was our rock. I cry everyday. I have let go of all my friends cause they don't understand my grief. Thankfully my husband is mostly supportive and he has accepted the fact that I'm going to be checked out for a while, sorry!! I miss everything about her, everything. I cry all weekend. I do shop at the stores now that I couldn't go in right after she passed and although I am really sad, sometimes I smile and say "look Mom, there's that fabric we like", and things like that. I am also in charge of her estate/probate... but I like it, I feel like I'm still taking care of her, my sweet Mom.

I don't have any advice to over come these feelings... 5mo is nothing when it comes to grief. My counselor says it can take up to 2 years to come out of the fog. I am putting no time limit on my grief, I really don't care what people think. I miss my Mom and it hurts. I am lucky to be able to talk to my aunt, her sister, who loved my Mom just as much and that is very healing to be able to talk with her. I also have three decent siblings who ease the pain at times. However, like you, most others have moved on. Her other sister and two brothers haven't called to see how anyone is, I find that sad.

I miss my Mom every day, every minute. I want to believe in the afterlife. I want to believe my Mom is somewhere in another dimension with my Dad dancing, and my late brother... I want to believe that so bad, but I don't 100%. I ask for signs, but I get nothing. I yell at God all the time, then the next minute I ask him to come into my life and help me.

I'm a mess. I will be mess for quite a while longer... and as my brother says when people say "it's time to move on"... I respond "sorry, my Mom just died, I'm going to be stuck for a while".

Hugs!

March 17, 2015

Retz, it seems we are the same age too;) When I was little and always reading or hearing stories about orphans, I used to think to myself, "I hope my mom will still be around for a long time. Maybe when I get old, it won't hurt quite as much." Well, I was wrong. It hurts more than I could ever imagine. My mom had always managed to recover from whatever she had--and this time seemed no different. Why now, I ask myself?

I sense your frustration with your mom's doctors: and I have to say, I can't help thinking what you're thinking too--that they fouled up big with the medication. I know I am still furious at my mom's doctors. What if they started her on gemzar and cisplatin, which is supposed to be the best means against bile duct cancer? Maybe she'd still be alive. Perhaps the docs decided against such because she didn't have the fanciest insurance. Or maybe, just maybe, they were prejudiced against us? (I was watching American Denial the other day and started to wonder.) Or they could have just ASS-umed that because she's elderly so there's not much hope for her, period. (I have an Italian neighbor whose mom is 97; he's told me that the docs keep telling him she's going to die soon even though she's still pretty active and healthy. Bizarre!)

I also wonder about the Lovenox they gave my mom, which they claimed it was the only suitable blood thinner. It caused her serious discomfort by way of incontinence. I noticed that as soon as they put my mom on it, she started having bladder problems. When I researched it online, I found others saying the same thing. So I brought it up with the doctors, and they said there was no such thing--even though some 40% of doctors believe there IS a connection.

But by far, I think one of the worst things they did was assign a hemotologist to my mom. Excuse me, but if her cancer started in the gastro-intestinal area, shouldn't they be sending her to a GI oncologist? After all, they are the ones who are up to date on research and treatment: that's why there are different specializations in oncology, duh! It's like sending a student who wants to write a thesis on Shakespeare to an Austen specialist. When I brought it up and used that very example, they hemmed and hawed and got very defensive. One of my friends with a Ph.D. in biology says that some of these docs can be the most ignorant yet arrogant pricks who insist on being right even though they've only just transitioned to a new discipline.

To add insult to injury, it's as though they had forgotten about her entirely after her death--apart from the fact that not one doc even bothered to send a sympathy card. (When our first silver kitty died, the vets sent us cards.) Because guess what? Two months after her death, her personal physician's office called up to ask why my mom didn't make it to her November appointment. He was the one who pronounced her dead, of all things! Then a month later, the neurologist called--and just last week, her cardiologist. Well, I wish my mom could make it, but she passed away 5 months ago at your hospital. It really makes one want to laugh and cry.

You mention signs...which I've been thinking about for sometime. All of it seems sort of uncanny. We are not Jewish, but my mom died on Yom Kippur, a day of atonement. Buddhists say that when someone passes, the spirit returns home for a visit...and lo and behold, our silver cats ran and sat on her bed a week later at 11:45 am. (They hadn't been to that room for several weeks.) When we planned her memorial service, we were only trying to figure out a time when my mom's friend would be able to play the piano: and right before the Thanksgiving holiday. It turned out to be not only the feast day of her patron saint (mom was baptized Catholic) but also the 49th day after her death, a day that Buddhists claim to be a day of rebirth.

What was interesting was that when my father and I were planning the service a few days earlier, there were two momentary power outages as the lights flashed. Maybe other people in our neighborhood had the same thing happen; I didn't check. But what was odd and what I'm still trying to figure out is a nightlight that turned on by itself. It happened on a day I was shoveling snow in the driveway and crying, wishing my mom could be in the kitchen waiting for me. When I returned, I noticed that the nighlight was on in the hallway leading to the kitchen: the last time it was on was when she was still alive. It's a hard light to turn on too; you have to click really hard. Maybe it was caused by some water leakage from the roof? And then towards the last minutes of her birthday on February 27th, there was a brief outage.

I would like to think they are signs, but I'm not religious and don't believe in the supernatural: even though my mom and I enjoyed horror! (LOL, my mom used to say, how does a nice young lady get interested in this sort of stuff? I used to answer "hey mom, you used to hold me while watching Dark Shadows and Twilight Zone!") Or maybe I'm so desperate for her presence that I want to construe them as signs--sigh!

I'm glad you said that working on probate made you feel closer to your mom--that you're taking care of her. I will try to think of it as such when I start organizing tomorrow.

March 17, 2015

it's horrible to have to go back over what the doctors did and didn't do... about 2mo out, I was a complete wreck just blaming myself I didn't quit work and take TOTAL charge of her care... but my siblings were helping and she was doing okay, so I thought. She always took care of herself, and I figured we'd get through it eventually. How I was wrong .. but since then I have realized I am not God and I didn't know the outcome, had I known the outcome certainly I would have done things differently. It's so hard to come to terms with this, and not blame yourself and look for mistake and all the things that went wrong.

I know when we get older, it doesn't take much for the elderly to get sick. My friends Mom had a heart condition, got a flu shot and died two days later. She swears it was the shot, and I believe her. I know if my Mom were 65yo, she would have got through her blood condition, but she just didn't have the strength anymore, her body was done

I know how much you hurt and how you think about her all day, I am the same. All day, thoughts go through my head... the minute I wake up, I look at her picture next to my bed and I say "hi Mom", and then I think to myself "I just cannot believe she is gone". Some days I cry all the way to work, other days i just tolerate the hole in my gut.

If you want to chat outside of here, let me know. I'll send you a PM.

Hugs to you and hope you have a good day. I have a 90 minute commute which some days is a good thing and other days it's daunting carrying the pain, but then when I get to work, the pain is still there, so why do I fret over the commute I ask myself. Tonight there is a special crazy workout class at the gym. It was very hard to get back to the gym, but I am back 3x a week and it helps just a little. I know my Mom would want me to go back to those things. I even joined a new gym so I could avoid all the people I knew. I could not take seeing old friends and acquaintances and talking about my Mom, much too painful. This new gym is nice, I know noone. Noone talks to me or knows about my Mom, it's perfect. However, one morning I went to a 6:00am class and there I saw two girls who knew of my Mom's passing and knew how hard it hit me, and they just kind of avoided me. I thought "geez, how rude", and I started to spiral down and I went to walk out, and then I heard my Mom's voice "don't you dare leave little girl, you stay and be strong".

My Mom was my everything, absolutely everything. I didn't marry until 2.5yrs ago, my first marriage... she got to walk me down the aisle.. I'm grateful for so many things, but I want her back. I want her back.

Let's chat outside of here perhaps... maybe we can help support one another.

Hugs... try to have a good day, and I will do the same

March 17, 2015

Retz, don't blame yourself. I know it's so easy to do so; but it sounds like you did everything you could. Most likely, your mom would have wanted your life to go on. One of my regrets is much like yours: that I didn't stay 24/7 with her. But she wouldn't let me as I was teaching: go home, take care of the cats, and tend to your class she'd say. She would even shoo me home! After all, Dad was staying with her anyway.

I do wonder what would have happened had I not called the visiting nurse. I called because my mom looked especially weak and unusually cranky. I was afraid that she would have a stroke or heart attack; and what could I do? So I thought, better have someone look at her. And alas, she decided my mom needed to go the hospital. This debate continues to play out in my mind even though I know I would have kicked myself had she suffered a stroke at home.

At times, I have contemplated suing the docs. Knowing that there WAS a GI oncology department at the hospital and that they did not send my mom there still infuriates me. I also wonder about the meds they gave her; my mom kept saying that the hospital was trying to kill her. (Granted, her mind had been deteriorating over the last several months.) How was it that she looked as though she was recovering over the weekend Sunday, only to have a stroke? I keep thinking about how one of the docs wanted to send her to a rehab home which he founded--and always wondered at the back of my mind whether he and others on his team wanted to weaken her so she would have no choice but to go there.

All of this has been complicated by my selfish, uncooperative Dad whom I also blame for hastening my mother's death. He would not get up until 2 pm--and most of the time he'd be working on his stupid book--even though he has no book contract! For the last 10 years, my dad has behaved as if my mom owed him something--even though he was a terrible husband and father, IMO. We continued to have many fights about it through the course of her illness, which no doubt probably exacerbated my mom's stress: my dad wanted to cook and clean even though he's terrible at it and ends up making things worse so I have to do them all over again. At the same time, he barely spoke to my mom--which is what I wanted him to do. Dad, please keep her company. Because he couldn't do the finances, I had to do everything in addition to all the housework, my finances, my three work projects and a new term of teaching.

The vast majority of my parents' friends and relatives all express more concern for him than me. They tell me it's a cultural thing--that men of his age and background are used to their wives doing virtually everything. That's no excuse, I would reply: He's lived here in the US for over 50 years, where husbands do everything else but kitchen chores: they fix around the house, they do the taxes, they do the bulk of the driving, etc. HE SHOULD LEARN AMERICAN WAYS! After all, when I stayed in England for 7 years, I tried to do so. No doubt he feels that he has a free ride after his heart attack. Yet, many of the men I know of his age who suffered heart attacks still try to do as much for their family as possible--especially for their wives. In short, my mom was saddled by doing nearly everything. Yes, she loved handling finance (taxes, insurance, investments, etc.), but she had to do everything else as well, sometimes even the handy work--despite the fact has a PH.D. in engineering, refusal to drive,

The community and some of my relatives do not care about me at all--and that includes my dad, no matter what he says. You dad needs help, they tell me; and you need more compassion for him. (They have no idea at all how he psychologically abused me when I was growing up; and it's not something I particularly want to discuss with people I don't know too well.) I get the distinct impression they all want to sabotage me because they are all incredibly competitive people. How am I going to get permanent work and find viable income when I can't finish my book and other projects in time for the upcoming hiring season?

It's in light of all this that I miss my mom all the more. I miss her companionship so much: unlike my dad, she was smart and very perceptive.even though she had far less formal education. We would read and watch TV and she would get what was being discussed even though English is her 4th language. I never had to explain anything to her twice: only after her stroke did she begin to deteriorate. (I think this consciousness made my mom feel worse.)

Hugs to you too, Retz. I can tell you are going through a lot. Personally, I think working is good: it can detract from your pain. If your mom was proud of your accomplishments, no doubt she'd want this for you too. And yes, she'd definitely want you to stick it out with those aholes! I know it's hard: what can you do when someone is not outright hostile, but "just" less than fully understanding? Count your blessings though--that she was there to see you get married 2.5 years ago: at least, she will be comforted by the thought of your being loved.

I hope you have a great day at work--and your workout. I can't say "cheers" for the moment as it would feel so inappropriate here....but I hope there will be a little sunshine and warmth for you.

March 18, 2015

wish i had some advice... i miss my dad just as much decided to not drink my calming pills cause i thought i didnt need it.. each time i look at his photos i just wish that this was all a dream..he passed away 4 weeks ago lung cancer stage 4 at the age of 53 he was still so young and i needed him so much

March 18, 2015

Cin01, do you have anyone around you who knows your dad? Sometimes it can help to talk to someone who knew him well--like one of his good friends or a relation. During my mom's illness and death, her closest sister and cousin kept in touch. They were such a balm for me after my mom passed even though our coversations obviouly didn't--and couldn't--alleviate all the pain. But at least I felt that there was someone out there who cared for me: and I learned so much about my mom as well! (It's amazing how even though we think we know everything about our parents, we still don't.)

I don't know if you've had a funeral or memorial service for your dad yet. But sometimes making preparations can help too: discussing the music to be played, the design of the program, selecting the food, photos, and probably above all, writing my mom's eulogy, allowed me to pay tribute to her and made me feel that I at least tried everything humanly possible to help her from illness through death. Even if you've already had one, you might think of posting a slideshow and music video about your dad on youtube or compiling a scrapbook of his photos to be placed on his memorial page.

I am still seeking answers myself, but I will say that it won't always be horrible. What did help me in the first few months was keeping myself occupied at my job: at least, it distracted me from my pain even if I felt stressed out beyond belief. But I also knew my mom would want me to keep plugging on: after all, she sacrificed so much for that. She really was the wind beneath my wings~ (Sometimes I think she WAS the very wings!)

April 4, 2015

I am posting this today since it is exactly 6 months and some 3 hours and 25 minutes since she passed away on October 4, 2014 at 11:45 pm. It's kind of an open letter to my mom whom I still miss so much today.

No one really expected you to pass so soon: you had been such a tough bird over the years after all. You came to this country in 1959, learning English as a 4th language. In fact, even before that, you dated Dad against your parents' wishes and gave him $150 to fly to the US so he could pursue graduate school. You did everything for us: you cooked, cleaned, paid all the bills, sorted the taxes, packed and helped move our family 5 times across the country. You traveled with us in Asia and Europe. Not least, you bent over backwards for Dad even though most women would probably have divorced him. And yet through it all, you never ceased to care for us.

You were certainly always there for me, Mom. And so I'll never forget some seemingly ordinary and yet special moments from long ago to what seems like just days ago. Sometimes I think back to my early childhood days when you carried me tirelessly while doing our afternoon shopping in the Bronx...even though you were a petite 5'1" weighing less than 120 lbs. How I enjoyed our hotdogs and sundaes at Woolworth's or cookies and ice-cream at Chock full of nuts. I also remember our trips to the museums and shopping in Manhattan: what fun it was to ride the subway and feel the downtown bustle on crisp, sunny days! (And, oh mom--if there's a reason why I get praised for superb taste in fashion....well, that combination of high art and window shopping probably turned me into a fashionista.) And how I remember our visits to Boston, Amherst, Worcester, Storrs, and the Poconos in our red Volkswagen when Dad drove us to his conferences.

I also remember the comfort I had from you on other occasions: when I was 5 and was terrified by a picture of a decaying corpse in a comic book. When I lost my first tooth. And yes, when you gave away our first cat to a neighbor. I remember the days you'd make chicken soup and a shaved ice dessert for me when I was sick. Sometimes when you got angry with me, you'd say you were leaving--but return home hours later with new toys for me. And then there were other things that I remember fondly, even though they weren't particularly happy or sad. How I enjoyed your story telling...your reading aloud to me from the Dr. Seuss series and an encyclopedia of stories for kids. (LOL, mom, and you wonder why I wound up pursuing a career in literature and history?) And how I recall what must have been great toleration on your part when I played the Sound of Music soundtrack for nearly 3 years in a row; you'd even sing tunes from it to help put me to sleep.

You were the one parent I could count on. You kept calm even though we were worried about Dad that year he didn't call us on Xmas when he was abroad. I don't know what made me sadder: that he forgot about you, or that you were trying your best not to upset me with the knowledge. You comforted me when I didn't get into the college I most wanted to attend then You were there when Dad didn't bother to show up on time during my freshman orientation in college because he was "busy" a-broad. You were there when he refused to speak to me for 3 days when I told me I wanted to study literature--not medicine.

But you were there to fully partake in my triumphs. Maybe Dad didn't care that I won a prize for best short story in high school (if it was math or science, it didn't matter), but you were mighty proud. You were proud again when I walked away with a prize for best essay on music in my final year of college. And I'll never forget how thrilled you were when I got into the graduate program at an English university that I had been dreaming of attending from the age of 14: even though we said we had dined out too many times that week, you said it called for a real celebration--prime rib and lobster. And so we went out for a fifth time, LOL! Many years later, you were still proud of me when I got nominated for a teaching award and I had won a book contract. Maybe we didn't do anything as fancy as steak and lobster, but we sure had a good time discussing them over our Reubens and pizza: that was the time you insisted not only on accompanying me to NYC two days after you had fallen and gone to the emergency room, but also on walking some 30 blocks with me despite the fact that it was 27 F outside and windy.

Mom, I know you've told me over and over again that I need to be strong without you. And so I try: sorting out family finances, finishing your taxes, probate, working on my book, and not least cooking and cleaning for Dad, the man you fell in love with so much in 1948 (and so you kept saying it was 1948 whenever the nurses, doctors and therapists asked you what year it was). Sometimes I'm so hassled and angry I don't have time to be depressed. Sometimes I'm excited with my own work.

But I can't count the many months, days, hours, and moments where I have not thought of you in one way or another--and found myself longing so much for your comforting presence. Sometimes when I run across a text I hadn't read since my time in England, I'll reminisce about your visits there. Our lunches at the various pubs and Indian restaurants (our favorite!) on the High Street. Our visits to the university museums. Our weekly jaunts to London during the Xmas hols, where we'd window shop at Selfridge's, Topshop, Old Bond and New Bond street, and at other times browse at those many bookshops down the Strand. We loved those carveries and afternoon teas.

The other day, when I decided to listen to a stream of Mozart symphonies, I thought about our trip through Austria when we visited Mozart's houses and did a Sound of Music tour. How you humored me by letting me buy some 10 books on Mozart in German even though I had only had a year of German in college. And then when I read about the 50th anniversary of The Sound of Music, childhood memories of you singing Do Re Mi came flooding back too.

And of course I still can't help thinking so much about us last year. I remember how happy I was on Sunday, April 27th when you seemed to be recovering so well that we thought you'd be home the next day. I remember how happy I was when you finally returned home the Saturday before Mother's day: I was so proud of playing Mommy to you when I fed you (even though you did not want to be fed), bathed and dried you with fluffy new towels and a bathrobe. I was happy to run downstairs to get anything you wanted--milk, yogurt, fruit. I remember the relief I felt when we returned home after several hours in the emergency room some weeks later. I feel no less wistful thinking how cute you were when you wanted a cat purse that had just arrived for me and when I got a make-up set from Sephora that was finally in stock: even though I wanted them badly, I wanted even more to give them to you.

Come to think of it, my happy days last year were probably even happier than many other days that I regarded in such a light. When it's a matter of life and death, nothing really seems to matter as much. All I cared about then was having my mother live as long as possible.

Of course, that didn't happen. It's something that really hits me on cloudy, overcast days if only because so much of last year was cloudy and overcast--even the two wonderful days when she returned home. I still remember how it began to pour minutes after she was declared dead: as if nature were mourning for her. How strange it seems that she died on Yom Kippur, a day of atonement. And on the day of the 4th: a number that is associated with death according to the Taiwanese because they are near homynyns.

Well, mom, I need to return to my book--which I know you've wanted me to finish ASAP. There are many times when I feel too weak to write: but I always manage to get myself going when I tell myself that it will ultimately be dedicated to YOU. I will play some of my favorite songs for you tonight: some Whitney songs which you really enjoyed--"I will always love you"--and Sinead O'Connor's "Nothing Compares 2 U." I had always thought of the latter as a song for a departed lover (which is what the original writer, Prince, intended): but when I read that Sinead decided to record that song for her then recently deceased mother, I realized nothing could really be more appropriate. So true--

All the flowers that u planted, mama
In the back yard
All died when u went away

Indeed, nothing compares to you, Mom.

April 5, 2015

Beautifully touching tribute, and beautifully written. Your mom would indeed be proud and overjoyed by your display of love. God bless you, and your dear mother.

April 5, 2015

Thank you for your kind words, Never Better--it means a lot to me: for your posts are beautiful and eloquent too.

April 5, 2015

Silverkittles...I just read your post....amazing...I still miss my Grama (she died in 1974) and Mama...(she died in 1995)...

April 5, 2015

Mermaid Tears, it's amazing how we can still miss our grandparents and parents so many years and decades later. And yet, when they've done so much for us, supported us through thick and thin, and have become so much of our identity in many ways, it's not unexpected.They were, after all, the ones who first taught us what unconditional love is all about: it is from them that we began to learn patience, humility, compassion, and strength.

I like to think that as time goes by, maybe my pain will not be as constant. But I know that the pangs will never subside entirely; I still find myself longing to discuss my mom with those who knew her. I have not been able to sort through her room as thoroughly as needed (even if I did manage to give some of her nicer things to her closest sister when she attended the memorial service.) I've left my mom's jacket hanging on the chair by the window where she used to sit, along with that cat purse and makeup set she wanted; it's almost as if I were subconsciously trying to keep her alive. Even my dad has done so too; there is a little bowl on the table where she used to sit in his room and a bottle of soy sauce.

April 6, 2015

I know what you mean....those small...common...every day items become 'sacred'....and now my adult children and GRANDchildren know what belonged to who...in my home...everything has a story....except my couch and new bed...I have inherited so much....

April 6, 2015

Yes, they become "sacred"--our personal shrines. You are fortunate to have children who will be recipients of this powerful legacy. You can pass them not only her personal items, but more importantly, her lessons. Share with them all the great memories and all the wonderful things you've learned from your Grandmama and Mama.

April 11, 2015

My mom passed on October 14, 2014. She went in for way was supposed to be a "routine" 1.5 hour hernia repair. She never came home. She was my best friend. Since then, my dad who was managing heart failure went into crisis. on Dec. 25th he went into the hospital. He was there for 5 weeks when they said they couldn't do any more for him and suggested hospice. They gave him "weeks to maybe a few months". He came home and has been doing miraculously well. He is still on an iv, and the doctors are very cautious, but they are all shocked. The prognosis hasn't changed, but we are focusing on optimism. I have taken a 6 month leave from my job to be with and care for my dad. The thing is, everything in my life feels in limbo. My job and profession is in New York. My dad is in Colorado.

Next week will be 6 months and I am just now really starting to grieve. I've been so busy trying to care for my dad. Now he is stable and we are both missing my mom so much. I cry everyday. They were married 49 and a half years. This May was going to be the big 50th celebration. I constantly think of her last week in the the hospital. I sang to her constantly, and held her hand. My dad was on one side and I was on the other holding her when she died. It was traumatic and not a peaceful exit. It plays in my mind. I have a good job in NYC and can't think about leaving my dad alone when I and supposed to return in July. He is still so sick. I have two siblings. One brother who is selfish and only comes around when he wants something or it serves him, and a sister who had a breakdown last year and is trying to get herself together with a husband and 3 teenagers. I am constantly overwhelmed and I've gained 20 lbs. I can't seem to make the simplest decisions. I'm afraid my dad is going to die and I will be left alone to do the work and with no one left who cares about my day to day life. I'm single and feel very alone. I adore my dad but I don't want to cause him more grief by my own. Death sucks.

By the way, Silverkitties.. you mentioned you were agnostic but didn't have a community. Have you thought about a Unitarian or universal church? You might find a community of open minded people. I'm not Unitarian, but I just thought I'd mention it.

April 11, 2015

Wistletone, let me express my condolences to you on your mother: it must have felt so bewildering when she passed away very unexpectedly. It must feel even worse with your father's illness and difficult family circumstances. I don't know how you have the strength, but you are truly admirable.

My first impulse was to ask if it might be feasible at all to bring him to NYC? I realize it sounds crazy since you're all in Colorado, but NYC does have some of the best doctors and hospitals in the nation, if not the world. In fact, I would have brought my mom to the Sloan Kettering had she not had her accident and seemed to deteriorate so soon after she resolved her walking issue. If your siblings live near where he does, maybe they can take of his house. Do you have other relatives you trust? Also, I don't know what kind of work you do, but can any of it be done online at all--or at least, off premises?

Ironically, one of my issues right now is how to bring myself to go to NYC. Granted, it's not too terribly far since I live in CT, but it is connected with SO many memories of my mom, both childhood and recent. If my mom was the first person I ever loved (and probably the last), well NYC is the first city I knew and loved too;) I was raised in the Bronx until I was 9 but over the last 15 years or so, I've been teaching at a university in Manhattan. I think I already mentioned it in my other post, but I cherish all of our jaunts together through Central Park, 5th Avenue, Rockefeller center, Herald Square, Garment District, Gramercy, Greenwich Village... always reminiscing, but always finding new restaurants and shops to try. One of my cousins recently invited me to go so we could all see a show; yet, I don't want to face the prospect of taking the train alone right now, haunted by memories, knowing we can never do the things we planned just last year.

As for religion, one of my friends in grad school did suggest I join a Unitarian church (to pick up guys, LOL); she said all of my social and political ideas were so similar. Part of my thesis wound up focusing on the politics 18th-c. Unitarian writers! My only reservation is that 1) I am still fundamentally a skeptic at heart and a difficult time accepting the Bible--or the Koran and Hebrew Scriptures for that matter 2) I feel most spiritual in Catholic cathedrals with all of their breathtaking art, architecture, and music even though I know I would never be a Catholic (even if my mom was a non-practicing Catholic).

Wistletone, I'm not sure if I was able to help here....but sometimes writing about your mom, your grief, and worries can help you unload. We all need relief--and to express how we feel. It's difficult when there are so few who are physically--and emotionally--around to help. I sometimes think if I were in a happy relationship, with someone who loved and cared for me, maybe my grief would not hit me so hard. There would be some comfort that at least someone still loves me--and that I can return that love.

April 23, 2015

silverkitties - I just read this thread and wanted to comment. First off, I'm so sorry for your loss and pain. Secondly, you have a real talent for writing - putting feelings into words is not always easy and you did a beautiful job of it! Your touching tribute is the culmination of a lifetime of love and memories that can never be taken away from your heart - I know your mom would be very proud!

Your story is eerily similar to my own on many levels: It's approaching 6 months since my own mom passed from cancer; she too was a very active and physically fit 80-ish woman - up until the last year of her life; her decline was also very rapid and gut wrenching to see; I too second guess myself sometimes and wonder if other things could have been done and if they would've changed (delayed?) the outcome. As with you, I was never close to my father so in some ways, my mom was almost like 2 parents in 1. She really was the glue that held the entire family together. And speaking of family, it seems like everyone in my family has moved on from mom's passing..except me.

I know your pain well - I still cry almost every day and am thinking about the upcoming Mother's Day. It'll be the first one without having her around and I know it'll be very emotional.

As for any advice - continue to write if it helps. Whether it's online, offline, in books, journals, blogs or whatever..utilize your writing skills as a form of therapy. I think this site is a good outlet for you to release and share some of your feelings, emotions and thoughts...after all, each of us share a common experience and can easily sympathize with others here. And I'm sure your words have helped and will continue to help others in similar situations.

Best wishes to you in your journey of healing

April 24, 2015

Thank you, ALoneinTO: you have made me feel a little better today after a relapse of sorts. Over the past two weeks, I've been stressed w/ taxes and my dad's accident last Monday when I found him lying down headlong by the treadmill. This is after I was thinking to myself, thank God we finished taxes on time! Out of the frying pan and into the fire...Fortunately, it wasn't a stroke or heart attack and he only stayed in the hospital until Thursday.

We went to a different hospital as I did not ever want to set foot in my mom's hospital again: frankly, I still think her doctors did a terrible job and I keep wondering--yes,. even nearly 7 months later--if they didn't try to kill her or at the very least, if they didn't care because she was over 80. (There is an attitude in some ER's that if someone is over 80, there's not much need to tend to them immediately; better help someone young and healthy. One ER doctor told us just as much!) Not surprisingly, being with my father in the hospital triggered off memories, even though the setting was different. One day was so bad that I wound up calling a suicide hotline, just so I could talk. Finally, although I was pleased that the hospital released Dad, I will not deny that I felt somewhat sad, wishing Mom were coming back home too. Somehow, everything felt...incomplete, as if Mom should be part of this happy moment.

I no longer feel cry my eyes out every day (I've had other worries apart from the taxes and dad's hospital stay); but every once in a while it happens. It usually happens after I've dreamt about her: in a number of these, I'm relieved to find her again...whether it's at a mall or it's a return home from her travels. Sometimes, we're on the way to see her. Then I get up--inevitably disappointed even though the dreams are very hazy and I'm half awake already.

I know how you feel about Mother's Day--especially when we live in an overly commercialized and material world! And yet, I am part of it. It's so hard for me to look online and think "I want to get this for Mom." When I was mailing my taxes, I couldn't help but glance through the cards to see what Mother's Day cards they had. How futile. I guess I wish I could still get her a card and see her pleasure.

Yet, I do not feel bitter or resentful now when I see mother and daughter pictures, whether Mom's day related or not...Sometimes it even calms me down because I think how fortunate I've been to have had a wonderful relationship with my mother. Is this a sign of healing? I hope it is.

Best wishes to you too, ALoneinTO. This is a great site, even if depressing at times. Yet, it has been a real source of comfort in letting me know that I am not entirely alone. And that there are some truly wonderful people here to listen and share their own experiences. It's just like the words of that Helen Reddy song--

"And when one of us is gone,
and one of us is left to carry on
Then remembering will have to do
Our Memories alone will get us through
Think about the days of me and you,
You and Me against the World"

June 5, 2015

Today is exactly the 8th month after my mother passed. It didn't strike me so immediately: after all, I had lots to worry about today, most particularly a visit to the vet and part of a manuscript draft due tomorrow.

It wasn't until I got to the vet's when I was filling out the information sheet that I realized today was June 4, 8 months after her death on October 4th. But even before I got there, I couldn't help but think that just 16 months ago we were here for an identical purpose: getting the other cat shaved. And now, it feels like ages ago. Now I worry a lot more too since there will be no one here to buffer my pain if my cat gets worse.

It looks like I'll have to sleep in my mom's bed tonight too. Because of the cat's sedation, she'll have to be in a confined space, which happens to be my mom's room: it happens to be the cleanest as well. It's not that I don't go into her room a lot; I do on a very daily basis since that's where the printer is; plus, I've got quite a few books there too. But I have not slept there since the night before she died. It will be hard.

I still cannot get over the fact that of all people around me who deserve to live longer, my mother is not here. My dear sweet mother. The mother who always used to ask me how I was doing even if I went somewhere, whether for an hour or a week. Who always had questions. How i miss her intelligence and her wit. How I miss all the discussions I had with her after watching a movie together or reading a book. Watching a show is just not the same. There is no one with whom I can admire beautiful cinematography. Or analyze a character. No one else who can remember the heyday of Liz Taylor, Marilyn Monroe, Katherine Hepburn, and all the great dames.

How I miss showing her cat videos and photos that friends emailed me. How I miss our discussions on stocks. How I miss watching the latest Ralph Lauren fashion show. Actually, it's hard to think of what I don't miss. She was my everything.

Instead, I am stuck with a stupid, inconsiderate father who had NO BUSINESS GETTING MARRIED, LET ALONE BECOMING A PARENT. Couldn't help notice the contrast when I got home. There was not a single word--as if he were completely oblivious to the fact that I was out: not one question about the cat. Not one question about me. There's no doubt about it: he IS the problem. I think if he loved me as much as my mom did, I would not be feeling such intense grief more than half a year later. I would not be feeling such a huge, gaping hole in my heart that never seems to heal. Yes, it does suck tremendously to be TOTALLY ALONE and grieving.

June 5, 2015

ditto SilverKitties... I love the way you write and how you loved your Mama... as much as I loved mine. I warms my heart to know that I am not alone in the love I felt for my dear Mom. So many of my ass friends don't get it, and soon after she passed, the comments and expectations of how I was supposed to just 'forget' her and 'move on' was heart wrenching and hurt to the core... how could they be so insensitive when this was my Mom that passed, my best friend, my everything. It comforts me so much to read your posts, and to hear how you loved your Mom so much... as I did mine... perhaps we were really super lucky, and all the other ass people, just never got to experience the love of a great Mom, like we did.

I miss my Mom too, so very much. It will be 8mo on Saturday She was 80yo. She died so suddenly, from a stupid stroke, I feel so bad for her, like she was tricked.. not even prepared to say goodbye at all. I get so mad at life, for taking her in such a cruel sneaky way.

I know your pain so much... and this is the only place I write now. The lack of support was unbelievable during my intense grief right after she died, even from some cousins. I got email that says "your Mom lived a full life, you shouldn't be so sad", unbelievable, from a cousin.. how hurtful.

June 5, 2015

Retz, thank you for your kind words. Let me tell you that you are FAR from being alone in your feelings! Like you, I wonder if it's they've never experienced it and don't yet know what it feels like death takes away a person you loved most. Or it's because many people just did not have the same mother/child relationship that we enjoyed.

One of these days, I might just post a snarky "What not to say list" to all the assholes who don't get it.

1. The assholes who say "She lived such a long life."

Yes, she did. But who are we to determine what life is deemed long or short? What happens if that person has long been overworked? Stressed? Yes, I realize that someone living beyond 80 may be considered to have enjoyed a long life. In some cases it is--in others, not so much. If that person has been suffering for years, then it's a very long life. But even then, we cannot judge. My mother seemed very healthy until right before her stroke. She could fly up and downstairs and never skip a beat in anything. To me, her life was cut short!

2. Those who say "It's up to God."

OK--what if there is none? I realize some believers may feel shocked; but there are many agnostics and atheists out there too. And even if there IS indeed a God, we can't suddenly and miraculously begin to believe now. What I want to know myself is "Why has God taken someone I still love and need so badly?"

These are 2 that stand out in my mind right now. For those of you out there who haven't lost anyone yet, keeping it simple to "I haven't lost anyone yet but I know it must be hard." Or tell about your own experience with death. But whatever you do, don't presume to tell us what to feel or think. This will come naturally.

Best of all--and this is for friends and those who know the person suffering loss fairly well or the deceased--offer him/her a chance to talk about the loss. This is what the bereaved want most. "If you ever want to talk about your mom/dad/spouse/child/pet, give me a call." And if you do say, do really mean it. Nothing hurts more than a rebuff during grief. And by the way, it doesn't hurt to check after the funeral or memorial service. It's not like we magically forget after the service. I can't tell you how many people suddenly ignored us after the service. As if we didn't exist any more.

And please, please do not tell us things like "move on" "she lived a full life"--especially in an email. (Retz, that must have stung!) If it sounds bad enough in a phone conversation, it's even worse in an email: there is nothing so cold and perfunctory.

On the same token, don't force anyone to speak either. Rather, it's best to defer to anyone who's loved and lost. It's only basic respect for those who are undergoing a very difficult time. No need to make it worse than it already is.

3. If you are a health provider, please make sure your list is up to date. Because it truly stinks to get a call from the doc asking "Where's X? S/He missed an appointment."

Well, duh, S/HE DIED. Two months ago too. And YOU were the one who recorded the death! (Or are you the one who's brain-DEAD?)

I should add here that I actually got 3 such calls from doctors at my mom's hospital. IT WAS LIKE THEY DID NOT GIVE A ****! I also got a notice for a bereavement clinic at the same hospital MORE THAN 6 MONTHS AFTER HER DEATH. I told them it was truly insulting.

4. Lastly, do not make any ASS-umptions about people. Do not assume that just because someone is over 50, the loss of a parent means nothing. That we need to get over it because we're "mature adults."

Do not assume that unmarried children living/helping out their parents are drudges and servants. I CAN'T TELL YOU HOW FED UP I AM WITH THE ASSHOLES WHO EXPECT ME TO DO EVERYTHING FOR DAD AS IF I HAD NO LIFE AT ALL.

Do not presume to provide unsolicited advice--sell the house, learn to drive, etc. HELLO, MY MOM DIED LESS THAN 8 MONTHS AGO. I can't just up and sell the house and learn to drive when I have my own work and am still sorting out through her stuff, paying family bills, cooking, cleaning, and really--taking over my mom's duties and mine. If I learn to drive in the mental condition I'm in, I could very well have an accident and die of stress. F*** OFF!

This goes out to all of you who are still grieving and not getting the response they need and deserve.

June 5, 2015

Silverkitties, I agree first let me say that you write so good. I hope that someday your father will stop being so selfish and think of all the hurt and grief that he caused you and your mom. Since he's been like this your whole life, what would it take for him to change or would he be willing to change? I'm sorry that you have to endure this on a daily basis.

Retz62, I'm sorry for the loss of your mom. My mom died from a massive stroke and lived for 18 days. I have a mixture of emotions---depressed, angry, guilt, empty, alone. Sometimes I look at mom's picture (one in the room, living room, bedroom, by the computer and her alter) I cry and ask her, "Why did you have to leave me?"

Mothers are supposed to live on forever because we need them. It's very hard when the date of your mothers passing rolls around. My mom's date is around the corner as well as her birthday....just 6 days apart. I also hate it when people tell me not to think about the whole ordeal. That is one of the worse things to tell a person grieving. I can grieve as long as I want and how I want.

June 5, 2015

Thank you, May--I thank my mom for my writing. She was the one who encouraged it throughout my life, from beginning to end.

I hate judgmental people: but especially those who tell us how and how not to grieve. As if it's any of their business. Unless you know the person who is grieving and his or her relationship with the deceased, you have no business passing judgment. Lord knows, it's hard enough to suffer the loss of someone who has been the sole source of comfort and love, without someone butting in to tell you how to do it.

June 5, 2015

silverkitties, I just read your post about people not respect us grieving people. How did I miss it? I don't know but, you were outstanding to the point. Remarkable!!!!!! I couldn't have said it better.

June 5, 2015

Thanks, May--many underestimate the power of conversations in healing. I know I've almost always felt better talking about my mom. It's great when someone is willing to listen and share thoughts.

What surprises me the most is the reaction from people who have already suffered loss but speak as if they knew nothing about it. This applies to a bitch I know here who lost her husband just months before I lost my mother. She probably thinks her loss is more tragic than mine because it's her husband--and he was much younger than my mom; by close to 20 years. She's one of the ones who keeps saying she lived a full life past 80. And anyway, parents will die one day. Of course, I responded that my mom was not only a mom, but my best friend and mentor. She has been my source of comfort.

But this bitch is very fortunate. For one thing, she has adult children, all of whom are not only doing well, but are on very close terms with her. She also has relatives nearby. Nor does she have to take care of an asshole like my dad. I'm not saying she doesn't hurt; but rather that she at least has some comfort from people around her. I do not.

Incidentally, she was one of those whom I initially thought was friendly. But then she changed in a snap right after the memorial service: I had always been kind to her and always asked how she was feeling and welcomed anything she had to say about her husband. I even publicly thanked her at the service too, mentioning how helpful she'd been to me and my dad. We gave her a very nice gift basket for her visiting family too @ Xmas.

At any rate, I am through caring. Life's too short worrying about assholes.

June 5, 2015

That's a 100% backstabbing BITCH! End of story. Hmmm! Just wondering why she turned so ugly.

June 5, 2015

That's a good question, May. I do not know. Was it because we ended up having a huge group of people at our service? We had far more than she anticipated. I remember her telling me we were probably only going to have about 10-15 since we only moved here in 2007. There were at least a 100; the first 10 pews in the church were filled. Maybe we had more than she did?

I remember when my mom first died, she amongst others offered us "help." I used to ask her and another woman once a week to do groceries since they were very close by (if it weren't for my dad, I would not have to); I ALWAYS offered them lunch and told them it was my treat since there were a few restaurants nearby but they always declined.

After the holidays, I started noticing how they did not want to get calls from me, so I naturally stopped. I think they thought I was trying to get them to do a favor but I only wanted to talk. Once I asked her what to do in the case of a large check I got from my mom's dentist. It was a refund. She told me to forge my mom's signature. Do you know that could land me in jail? (I googled it too.)

June 7, 2015

It would be so stupid of her to stop having contact with you just because there was a large turnout at the service. Your second guess about helping to do groceries....well, maybe.

It kind of reminds me of our cousin at one time. All of a sudden, they didn't speak to us for no reason. We called them and went even to their house. They didn't answer the phone or answer door. we left it at that. Then one day, years later, they called us. We think it was someone spreading rumors. One of their sons is a big time gambler. He owes people money. He owes my mom $2000 and and never paid back. Karma is a b***h!

June 7, 2015

The groceries could be it, May--although I always went and paid and always offered them lunch. We also only went out once a week; she worked part-time from home and was ready to retire.

How and why did your cousin suddenly call--even if there was some rumor? What did he say? You would think he'd want to stay away w/ that $2000 he owes your mom: unless he was actually calling to say he would pay it back. That's quite a bit of dough!

June 7, 2015

My cousin's family----the parents and their two sons. One son is the good guy that has everything going for him and the other son (Bock) is just money-hungry.

Their father and my grandfather are brothers. It wasn't Bock who decided to called...no way! It was his parents or the other son who called (I forgot who). Every time we see Bock's brother, we tell him to remind him about the money, it just falls on deaf ears. We knew we wouldn't see the money again the minute my mom handed him the money. He came knocking early one Saturday morning crying to lend him the money and also ask us not to tell his parents. Another ASSHOLE!

June 18, 2015

I'm writing this today as I feel terribly depressed recalling that exactly a year ago, June 17, 2014, I was in ER with my mother. And that this was the week that we discovered she had cancer.

No one could have predicted it. We had such a good weekend, especially on Sunday and Monday, when her sister, my cousin and the latter's daughter came visiting from Maryland: we hadn't seen each other since 2005 and this was our first encounter with her sister's lovely 8-year-old granddaughter. You could tell my mom was so happy--and so proud of me too: she had never praised me like that before. Her sister kept marvelling that she could not believe my mom even had a stroke. In fact, even after my mom's passing in October, her sister repeated those very words.

We were in a jolly good mood as we headed to my mom's personal physician that Tuesday morning. It seemed to be a warm, sunny, if somewhat hazy day. We didn't expect anything out of the ordinary; in fact, we were still laughing and joking at the doctor's office even though the wait seemed excruciatingly long. Perhaps this was the first sign that something was going to be off?

At any rate, her doc noticed that her ankles were still swollen after 4 weeks: and decided that my mom needed a blood test and ultasound at the hospital--although he reassured us that everything would probably turn out fine since she looked so well otherwise. As we headed to the hospital, the clouds had begun to gather, with a few rays of light peeking through. By the time she had finished her blood test, it had become almost completely overcast.

My mom was OK, even though I could tell she was getting a bit tired. She really wanted to head back home, but we still had to do her ultrasound. Again, we assumed everything was going to be mostly fine as she looked OK and was even feeling a bit hungry. We were already discussing what we wanted for dinner.

Then the blow fell. The results indicated that she had pulmonary embolism--and would have to go ER. There was a brief checkup and we were told that we would only have to wait a short while for an EKG. The hours passed: 3,4, 5, 6, and 7...my mom was getting desperately hungry; but because they wanted her on an empty stomach and had no idea when the docs were going to be able to do the exam, she had to wait until well afterwards. She finally had her exam @ 9:30. I was feeling sick to my stomach as I heard the doctors laughing and joking amongst themselves, singing "Moon River." How could they even do that when there were so many patients in serious and critical condition--and not just my mom? When we were all told, over and over again, "we have no idea when the doctor will arrive/we have no idea when the results will arrive."

In the meantime, they hustled all of us into the hallway, where there were 2 other beds w/ elderly patients. It wasn't until midnight that they got a private room for mom.

I remember walking down those long, dark, lonely hallways with my dad and the two hospital attendants, one of whom was pushing him in a wheelchair because my mom's room was so far away. It was so eerily quiet, interrupted only by the rattling of the wheels and the sound of the elevators opening and shutting by themselves. I couldn't put my finger on it, but something felt so wrong.

When we arrived at my mom's room--actually, a nice one with a large window--we were informed that my mom's PE and stroke may have been caused by cancer as they detected something in her abdominal area. After all, GI cancers tended to throw blood clots all over the body. But they would have to do a closer examination tomorrow morning.

Not surprisingly, this was a blow--even if yet uncertain. When we got home, I discovered that not only was my iphone dead--completely shot and unchargeable--but that the lamp by my bed was completely shot too. No new lightbulb seemed to work. Gone, fini. I'm not generally superstitious, but started to wonder if these were signs.

I didn't fall asleep until 3 am. I was very tired and just falling asleep when my two cats came running to my room--something they had never done before at that hour--but I didn't really pay much attention. I assumed they were just being frisky since we were out nearly all of yesterday. When I woke up, I found a message from the hospital: at around the time the cats woke me up. They were going to put a filter into one of veins to help her blood flow.

Then came the news: "there's a high possibility that your mother has liver cancer as her cancer markers are up. She probably only has 6 months." It just couldn't be possible....no way; even in the hospital for that entire week, my mom looked so alert. When she was finally discharged the following Thursday, we felt almost a breath of relief. Maybe chemo could help her. And maybe she might be an exception like another 86-year-old I had read about who outlived her 6 month prognosis by 3 years.

Today, I am still plagued by so many questions. My mom had seen her personal physican over the last several weeks--and he had noticed her swollen right ankle: the one that my mom's physical therapist and visiting nurse had pointed out repeatedly. Why hadn't he sent her for an ultrasound earlier? Could this delay have caused her cancer to spread even more rapidly? LOL as I remember her cardiologist, saying, "I will not see you until the spring because you look great." (Actually, he called up last month to ask why mom didn't show up--even though he's affiliated with the hospital where she died.)

Anyway, Mom, I miss you so much...and especially today and now as it has turned cloudy. I'm trying to work but all I can see are the hallways where dad and I walked on the way to your room. All I can hear is your frightened message from a week later about the biopsy. You don't know how much I want you back as everything in my life seems to be a mess. Every day, I feel that I am going to burst. It is not fair that you, who held up the family thick and thin, was the first to go. We had so many plans...we would watch more movies, you would see my book, we would travel. And I would continue to buy you everything you wanted--just like you did for me.

So long, farewell--but unfortunately, not auf wiedersehen--unless there is an afterlife. If only I knew...if only I knew your death were like one of the trips from which you returned, I might be better able to tolerate my loneliness. I might be able to concentrate. But it is so hard. Right now, it feels like my life will only be a repeat of that day, June 17, 2014. That haunting day...with the long, dark, lonely hallways where there was not a soul in sight, just an echoing emptiness. Without my mother, it just seems that there will never be any color, any life, any laughter.

June 18, 2015

.

June 18, 2015

Thank you so much, Retz....I think the recollection of that day really put a damper on my entire day. Actually, it's been on my mind for the last several weeks after Mother's Day as it replays over and over again.

I know it must hurt for you too with your mother's illness just beginning then. You thought she would begin to thrive and maybe do really well like she always had. Maybe that's what makes these recollections so difficult--the difference between the expectation and the reality. Little did we know what painful summers we would have.

Yes, at least we are not all alone right now. Thank God we have this site!

June 18, 2015

Silverkitties, I am so sorry you have to experience the pain from the beginning of your mom's ordeal. Just cry and let it all out. Your mom is looking down at you. I bet she's saying, "What a beautiful daughter I have." Know that she is very proud of you.

Funny, you mentioned about lights not working. When my bother-in-law's father died, my sister asked me to baby-sit their child while they attended the viewing service. I can't remember what time it was but, I think there was still light outside. Well, there was a load of laundry that needed to be folded that was in the master bedroom. They have a 3-way touch lamp (goes from dim to bright). In the middle of folding clothes, the lamp turned on by itself all the way from dim, bright and brighter....just boom, boom, boom. I just stood there and inside of me was shaking. I tried not to think about it.

After I finished folding clothes, I went to distributed to the rooms. From the master bedroom, I had to walk across the kitchen and the living room. I turned on the kitchen lights and it went out. I walked across the living room, turned on the light and guess what? Yep, it didn't turn on. OMG! This time I wasn't shaking. It was more like I was peeing in my pants. LOL

Ain't it something, whether their death date or when the incident occurred, we'll look at that date in a whole different way...when there was a time it was just another day. Do you know what I mean?

If you were her, I'd give you a BIG HUG.

June 18, 2015

That is so odd, May! I can imagine you would have felt more than a bit freaked out. I sometimes do wonder about signs; I know I've mentioned a few electrical incidents sometime ago with lights turning on and brief outages, so I won't discuss them again but have to admit I had never encountered them until my mom's death. Maybe they were just power surges?

One thing that strikes me as very bizarre is the time my parents went abroad in November 2013. Normally, when they leave, I feel sort of down for the first day, but snap back the second.

For some reason, I was depressed and crying for almost an entire week. I had strange nightmares of drowning and submersion.

Fast forward to 2014. When I asked the doc when my mom's cancer may have started, he told me 8 months. I did the math, and figured out that it was November. It was almost as if I knew something bad was going to happen back then.

As it turned out, Asia had (and still has) a serious problem with food--especially after Fukushima in 2011. Japan has been sending a lot of radiated products to other parts of Asia. And in China and Taiwan, they were actually using industrial oil for cooking! I do wonder if all of this helped start her cancer--a type that is also much more common in Asia than any other part of the world.

June 18, 2015

Silverkitties,

A friend of ours said that he believes it was my brother-in-law's father. I was so scared. I don't dare turn on the TV. Who know what would've happened. Blow up in my face?! Besides, the Chinese custom is that we're not allowed to turn on the TV or radio for a month.

When my mom died, I was surprised that my oldest brother (from L.A.) turned on the computer. I told him that I thought we weren't suppose to turn on anything. He said that it was fine. I left it at that. He knows more than me. Maybe it's not so traditional anymore. I don't know. If mom was here she would go by the old traditions. She's never gone back to China to see the changes, so she wouldn't know. She only went by what she grew up with and experienced. Friends who has gone back to China village said a whole lot has changed as far as traditions go. They don't this this anymore but, they do that.

I remembered missing my brother the day he left after the funeral. I don't get to see him but, once a blue moon. I kinda look up to him like a fatherly figure. A father I never had.

Mom was always worried about me. I'm the youngest of six. When I'm out of her sight, she panics and asks for me. She calls me for EVERYTHING. There could be few of us standing there, she doesn't call the others to help her for whatever she needs, it's always me. Sometimes it gets so overwhelming, I have to step outside to breath....and then she calls me again. Being a caregiver is the most stressful job.

I think mom was worried about me because I don't have anyone. No boyfriend or husband. All my siblings are married and have their own families. I remember while mom was in the hospital, my oldest brother told my mom in tears, "Don't worry mom, I promise that I will take care of May". Mom responded, "Okay". I think that was the hardest thing that came out of his mouth considering the situation. I'm reliving that moment right now.Then, before she died in hospice, all the siblings told mom the same thing. I told her that I love her and that I'm an adult now and I can take care of myself. There were 21 of us in the room with mom. My brother told me not let mom hear me cry because she'll worry more.

When she died, I think she died with her eyes opened. The nurse closed it for her after she announced her heart stopped at 10:29 pm. I think I heard mom or someone say that when people die with their eyes open they worried or something that they're thinking of that can't let go.

I do believe that your mom's cancer had something to do with the industrial oil they used in China. I saw it on the Chinese cable. I remember watching the news and seeing a woman that has numerous illnesses after consuming the oil. It's really sad that China doesn't even care for their own people. I don't know if you remember but, in 2008, China was selling baby powder formula that was tainted with some type of chemical. The chemical is normally used in roofing material. So sad!

June 18, 2015

That's interesting that you mentioned the TV, May. I watched it about 3 days after my mom died because I was so busy.

However, my dad managed to mess up the TV about a week later. This is not new, btw,; he's done it before. In the past, my mom would be the one calling our phone co. to fix it. I made him call up but he said he didn't really understand, so at the end it was me wasting 40 minutes of my time getting it fixed. After that, he broke the plunger on the toilet. I remember really flipping out and screaming. It was bad enough I was grieving over mom; and now he was creating even more stress for me.

It could be the industrial oil, the contaminated Fukushima food, or just the fact that some of their kitchens are so unsanitary. When I visited back in 1980, I lost 14 lbs in 2 days through alternate bouts of vomiting and diarrhea.

Yeah, my mom worries about me too being unmarried. But I told my mom, I'd rather be single for the rest of my life than have a man cheat on me and make me do everything for him.

June 19, 2015

Oh, My!.....14 lbs in 2 days?! That is a dieters dream, Silverkitties. lol

Would you believe that I never been on a date before? I've had chances but I was always overweight and didn't feel comfortable in my own skin. As I started to lose weight, people started noticing. Even though men were interested but, I wasn't interested. Yeah, I enjoyed the attention but, that was it. Never even been kissed, either.

I remember in my college days a very handsome guy just out of the blues asked me out. He reminded me of a soap opera celebrity from All My Children. I was getting ready for my next class and then he started saying, "Excuse me, excuse me". Chatted a few seconds and just asked me out. Of course, I said, "I'm sorry but, I have a boyfriend." But, it was so weird though. That was my first encounter.

Who needs them anyways?! And, I agree with your very last sentence about a cheating man.

June 19, 2015

It may be a dieter's dream, May--but it felt like hell as I was in the bathroom all day and night. We won't go into details here....but it was two of my worst days ever, physically speaking.

I will say this tho': sometimes having too good of a parent can screw you in the love department. Because few will ever love you as completely as a parent. The only person apart from my mom is a best friend from college who knows me inside and out. Trouble is, she lives several states away.

Today, I'm feeling moody--more memories flooding back--but I have so much to finish today. All I can say is this: sometimes I don't know what hurts more. Memories of the day Mom died or memories of the happy times we spent together: and knowing that I will never enjoy them again with her. This morning, I was sorting out my makeup on the vanity and bathroom counter. As I looked at the various lippies, I couldn't help but recall all those happy times with mom as we shopped and browsed. All those times when she said "you have to have it" (even tho' I have enough for a small shop, LOL)

Never again.

I was also cutting a melon for my dad's breakfast. I couldn't help but also think of last year again since that was the first time I had ever bought a watermelon: I used to throw up all the time when eating them and only began buying them for my mom last year. They are believed to be good for fighting cancer; well, not enough to have cured her:(

Now the clouds are piling up and I'm thinking of the day she died--but I have to finish paying the bills and complete this chapter for once and for all. I'll try to reward myself tonight by posting.

I know this week has been especially difficult for me with memories of her cancer diagnosis a year later. Is every summer going to be as miserable?

June 20, 2015

Aww! I can just imagine what you went through those couple of days, Silverkittes.

Last night as I was getting ready for bed, I just laid there and couldn't fall asleep. Half an hour passed and I was still awake. Then, a few minutes later, I thought I smelled mom's Pak Fa Yau (the medicated oil mom used to use). It was a faint smell. Do you remember me telling you about it one time? I don't know, maybe I'm imagining...but, am I?

The other day my sister-in-law made one of my mom's favorite dishes...sweet-n-sour chicken. She loved anything sweet-n-sour. It increases her appetite. I lit up some incense for mom and put the sweet-n-sour chicken in front of the alter so she can eat.

My great-niece who is 3 years old asks, "Where is great grandma?" She calls her Bok Bok in Chinese. I tell her that she is in heaven (pointing to the sky) looking down on us. She's the only one of the of the great-grandchildren that asks once in a while. She's very smart. She know English, Chinese (Cantonese, Toisan) and Spanish. When we want to say something so that she won't understand, we're screwed. We either spell or sign language. lol

When I went for my walk today, I was thinking about mom. Not paying much attention and not realizing that lady friend stopped to say "Hello!" whom I haven't seen for a long time. At the end, she told me to say, "Hi" to my mom. Tears just ran down my eyes. She asked what was wrong and I told her.

I hope we have a better day tomorrow.

June 20, 2015

May, it turns out I have the Pak Fa Yau in my room. Although as I said, I don't tend to associate it with my mom since I used to use it a lot too. But now, I'll think of you!

I didn't realize your mom was a great-grandmother! She must have been very proud: all things said, even though you miss her greatly, at least you know she did not die unhappy. She had children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. Many women would be very envious.

June 20, 2015

My mom has 7 great-grandchildren. Sometimes they can be brats. They treated mom bad sometimes. When mom used calls on them, they ignore her or yell at her. That's when I have to put them in their place. Then, they will run to their parents. I don't care who you are, you don't disrespect her.

Mom is the type that will tell me leave them alone. They are just children. They don't know any better. If you don't teach them respect, then they will never know.

June 21, 2015

I agree with you, May; although I get the impression that many Chinese grandparents and even parents are quite permissive with little kids. But once they're over 10, their attitude can change by 180 degrees. Whoosh--then it's study, study, study. What did you get on your test? Did you get into the Honor Society? Cousin Joe got into Harvard. Your big sister is at Princeton. How are you even going to get into University of ______ w/ THOSE grades? And what are you going to do with that loser major? LOL.

My dad used to do that, to which I would reply "Well Mrs. X makes $200,000 a year. Why don't YOU? And you're a man!" Or "Why do you dress so much worse than the professors at my college? No wonder you only teach at ____" My mom would say, "Why are you always comparing Dad to others?" And I'd reply "Because you and Dad taught me. Learned it from the finest, HA!"

My mom was more rational, although she was not above saying things like, "If you had studied a little harder for your final, you might have gotten the highest score rather than the second highest." Hey, mom, an A is a much higher grade than I would have expected in AP biology or any science course. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth!

Oh well. I suppose it's a good thing I'm not a parent and repeating all the same mistakes. Yes, I'm good at teaching--but we never know when it comes to our own kids. Sometimes even parents as ego gets in the way. I remember getting somewhat impatient with my mom when I was trying to teach her how to read again after her stroke. Poor thing....she used to be able to read graduate level texts;and now, she could barely read the nursery book she bought for me when I was 3. Dang, what would I give to teach my mom again....wish she were here, sitting and reading The King, The Mouse, and the Cheese.

June 21, 2015

It's so true when kids turn age they can be monsters. Kids nowadays are spoiled. They have everything...xbox, cell phone, toys and more toys. When I was growing up I didn't have the luxuries that that they have now. I remembered I had a tricycle, a doll, a teddy bear and a few books. That was it. I never whined or begged my mother for anything.

I didn't really have a childhood. The story begins. My grandparents was the one who raised us when we came to the U.S. We were very poor back then...and considering my stupid father's actions. My grandfather went back to China to get married and then came back to the states (Texas) to open up a business. My grandmother stayed behind till my mom was married and had kids and then moved to the U.S to be with grandpa. Grandpa made arrangements for mom and the kids to come to Texas. So, March 13, 1969 (that's also the day mom died) was when we came to the U.S. That was the first time grandpa met his only daughter.

We knew nothing more than just working at the grocery store. After school, we did our homework while attending to the store. To this day, my brothers have never stepped into a movie theater. They're not into American movies but more into Chinese movies and sports.

My mom was strict. She taught us to study hard. B is acceptable but would rather have an A. No, TV, no radio. If you finish your homework, open your book and study. She taught us never fight in school. I was the only Chinese girl in all my 12 years in school. I went to predominately Hispanic schools. I hated going to school. I had to deal with racism. I wasn't the most popular kid (especially elementary and middle school). I remember this one kid of elementary his name is Mark. He wore two metal leg braces that connects to his thigh. Well, one day our class walked over to another to watch a movie. Our class had to sit on the floor. I happened to sit on the floor in front of him. That idiot (that SOB) starts to kick me. I scoot up and he continues to kick. I didn't say anything. I didn't tell the teacher or anything. I was a very shy and quiet kid. I made no trouble. I kept to myself. Now, if I see him on the street, I'll smack him and then pour **** over him. lol

Oh, I forgot to mention, no boyfriends and no dating. You go to college, find work and then you can start dating. But, we have to make sure to make money first and then date.

June 22, 2015

I never cease to marvel at your mom and your grandparents, May. Talk about working hard!

May, Asian parents are sort of infamous in that respect: telling kids to stay out of fights. Just like you, in nearly every school I went to, I was about the only Asian kid. Not only that, after 3rd grade, we never stayed in any place more than two years; so I never got any real stability until my 2nd year of high school.

Asian kid + new kid = bullied a lot.

My parents always told me to ignore it. If you ignore it, they'll stop. It turned out to be the exact reverse as I learned: kids take it as a license to go even farther if you turn the other cheek. So it was not until I hit back that they stepped back, so to speak. I remember one girl who tried to push me downstairs. When she got down, I hit her on the head with my clipboard several times. She never touched me again.

Then there was one girl in my first year of highschool. She shoved me against a locker and later threw a shoe at me but missed. Well, I took her shoe and threw it down 3 flights of stairs. LOL, that was so funny! She never touched me again either.

So if you any of your grandnieces and nephews get beat up by their classmates, you tell them to smack 'em good.

My mom was shocked when I first told her. Aren't you afraid they'll beat you up even more? I said, no. The one lesson I learned is that you always need to fight back harder. Even if you get in trouble for it. After all, it's better to be respected than dissed.

June 22, 2015

My mom, too, taught us ignore them and they'll leave you alone. Geeze, that sure didn't work. I remember mom used to tell us, "If someone spits in your face, just wipe it off and walk away." She was the type that hated confrontation.

She used to always repeated to us that when she was in China the neighbors would say, "If you can't get along with her (mom), you won't be able to get along with anybody." Mom got along with people in the same building where we used to live. All 7 of us crammed onto a bunk bed. Neighbors never had a complaint about mom. They would tell mom that she is a good parent who disciplines her kids well. They wouldn't know that a family lived next door.

I'm just now thinking that mom taught us to turn the other cheek, would it have anything to do with her being physically/mentally abused by my stupid father? Being afraid...that's why you don't retaliate or you'll get it, attitude. Do you know what I mean?

Only one grand-nephew is in school and he just finished Pre-K. The grandparents teach the kids that if someone hits you, don't hit back, tell the teacher. It seems like he's not listening. Everytime he gets a on his report, we ask him why. He'll say someone hit him so I hit him back.

But, I think in our days we experienced more racism. Nowadays, we're more accepted, I think.

June 22, 2015

I think racism is still hard to assess, May--look at what happened in Charleston. Although I think it's fair to say that overall, it's not as overt as it used to be, what happened there shows that there is still a lot of room for improvement.

As far as the bullying of your grand nephew goes, as long as the teachers are keeping an eye out, there shouldn't be much to worry out. It's when they're not that he'd better learn to defend himself.

I remember one time when I was in 3rd grade, I complained to the teacher that a girl was hitting me. She told me to hit her back;) Kids in the US are taught to be more independent. It can be tough--but if you can't look out for yourself, how will you grow up and face challenges?

June 22, 2015

Yeah, it's really sad that racism still exists to this day. Over at our business, someone wrote "You damn Chinese" and "F*** you Chinese". They're stupid teenagers. I wonder do their parents know their doings. Sad!

Compared to what we experienced back then and now, it's so much better. Of course, you'll always have a few bad apples.

June 23, 2015

May, that is terrible! Although I suppose it's good they didn't do anything violent like break the glass--or worse yet, attack you. There are many out there who think they can take advantage of Asians because they're perceived to be passive.

June 23, 2015

Someone spray painted a bad word in red on the window guard which of course appeared on the window, too. We knew who did it because someone leaked it out.

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Still missing my mom

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