covid killed my mom & i feel so alone

[rightwhereyouleftme]

I've never posted on any boards or anything about this so here I go. I will give a little background. 

 

My dad got hooked on drugs and alcohol when I was 10, he kept it a secret and I was the only one who knew because I took care of my two kid brothers while my mom worked as a nurse. Eventually she found out and was under a lot of stress, she became really sick and was diagnosed with Lupus. She wasn't able to work and she was the only one providing so we didn't have money and my parents were constantly fighting and I would take care of my siblings. 

Eventually we lost our house and my dads family didn't believe he had a problem and took everything out on my mom. They accused her of being on drugs because she was constantly in bed and sick. They were awful to her and to me as well because I stood by her. They would take my brothers places and not me. When we were homeless, they took my dad and my brothers and left my mom and I to fend for ourselves. They treated us awful. We bonded a lot over those years and became best friends.

But you can only push someone so far. My mom started drinking to cope. She was in and out of hospitals with infection after infection. At one point she almost had to have multiple limbs amputated because she caught a really bad infection that targeted her face, arms, and feet. She recovered but she was in the hospital for over a month and a half and endured multiple surgeries. My dad still drinking that entire time, we ended up at his sisters where she would talk horrible about my mother to me. She also made me take care of the boys and take them to and from school on the bus. 

My mom ended up getting a DUI on my birthday. I was terrified because I left my baby brother with her and had no idea where he was or if she took him to school. I freaked out, he was at daycare. My mom and I fought constantly after this. She ended up meeting a man that introduced her to meth and it all went even farther downhill because she became the monster they made her out to be. 

She was homeless and on the river and my dad was in and out of treatment programs. We ended up in foster care because I went to the ER for suicidal ideation and my mom didn't come and my dad showed up drunk. I ended up staying with a really nice foster family while my brothers were adopted by my aunt and uncle. 

I graduated high school and went and did my own thing for a bit. At 19, my mom and I reconnected because she was losing her sight and needed help to get medical help. We regained our bond again and she became blind, which tore her up. She was so depressed and angry and so was I. We lost connection after she went back to drugs a few months later. 

I moved away and we remained in contact at a distance. Both my parents visited me in my apartment in Aug of 2021, they were both sober and took care of me and loved me. I cried when they left because I didn't want it to end. We planned for them to come spend christmas with me so I wasn't alone. I was so excited. 

October 19, my dad called me at work. I ignored it but he called again. I was in the middle of the sales floor and I felt my heart drop. He knew I was at work, he wouldn't call unless something was extremely wrong. I answered and he was hysterical.

"Your mom isn't breathing!" He cried to me. I remember wanting to throw up. I said to give CPR and breaths. He said that he had and the ambulance took her to the hospital. He said she was laughing and joking and then he came into the room and her lips were blue and she was unconscious. I couldn't breathe. 

I couldn't drive and my cousin was supposed to pick me up but ended up not being able to. 

I remember exactly where I was when the nurse called me with an update. I had one hand on the steering wheel and the other muffling my sobs as she told me my mom had coded four more times since they picked her up. 

I knew she was gone. People don't recover from that. They put her on a vent. 

That night my dad bought my ticket, my cousins didn't leave me alone. The hospital informed me that I was her power of attorney because my dad and her were technically separated. My dad didn't like that but I told him that if he tried anything I would provide proof of the abuse that he subjected her to over the years. 

She had been close to death before, we talked about what she wanted. I knew my dad wouldn't be able to handle taking her off of the vent so I took the reins. 

The first night I barely slept. They called and said they wanted to take her to surgery because of a strange form in her abdomen. It was a hernia, I knew that. I told them that. They didn't believe me. They pressured me into taking her to surgery. I agreed. I regret that, maybe she could have survived if I hadn't said yes. She started to decline during surgery so they weren't able to close her. They didn't find anything, like I knew they wouldn't. They said she had covid despite initial negative tests. 

I knew she did. She kept saying she couldn't take a shower without getting out of breath, I joked that she was fat. I regret that. I should have insisted that she go get checked. 

The doctor said he didn't expect her to make it through the night. My flight wasn't until the next day. 

She made it through the night. 

I made it home. 

The next days were a blur. I remember my dads family trying to take control, they talked to my dad about options when it wasn't his decision. I had them delete posts about her on facebook, she hated when people posted that stuff on facebook. If they needed to know, they already knew. 

Everyday was a series of calling every hour to get updates. She wasn't getting better but she wasn't getting terribly worse. She wasn't stable enough to scan for brain activity. 

They said that when they call us to come in and talk, that is when we would know it was bad. 

That is exactly what happened on the morning of the 24th. I remember running to my dad and telling him it was time. He wanted to remain positive and called me negative for knowing the reality of the situation, like I wanted to give up on my mom. We went in and saw her, we weren't able to go inside. They took us to a room filled with her doctors. They told us her body was shutting down, they presented a DNR. I asked for a moment with my father because he was crying and shaking his head.

"I will do one more exploratory surgery and that is it. We can't keep doing this to her, we are torturing her. She wouldn't want this." I told him. He agreed. 

I signed the DNR. 

I told him I didn't want to see his family. They were adopting this loss as their own as if they didn't hate her and treat her horribly. I hated them and all of their fake bullshit. We went to go tell my brothers the update and prepare them. We didn't even make it to their house before I got a call from the hospital. 

They said to get there now, it was time. Her body was shutting down quicker than anticipated. They were going to let me hold her hand. 

We went to the boys, told them. Then my dad and I made our way back. They geared us up in COVID protection. She was swollen, her fingers were purple and cold. She hated being cold. I sat with her. 

The nurse looked at me and said that I had done such a good job, I was so strong, and just praised me for how I handled the situation. It meant a lot. I was sobbing. 

I told them we were ready and I left the room as they took the tube out.

She looked awful. I combed her hair back with my fingers like i used to do when I was a kid. I held her hand.I put her favorite playlist on. 

Every time her heart rate went lower, the machine went off. Now when I hear the sound I have panic attacks. Goodbye Greys Anatomy. 

It took about thirty minutes for her to pass. She gasped for air in her final moments. 

As soon as she was gone, I broke. I regretted everything. I wanted her back. I've never cried so hard in my life. I was hysterical. I stayed there, crying and holding her cold, dead hand for what felt like forever. Then I motioned for us to go. 

I didn't speak for hours after that.

The first place my dad took me was my nana's house with his family, the last people I wanted to see. I went straight to her room and laid down. I didn't speak to anyone. I stared to the wall across me and cried silently. My brother crawled into bed with me and held me. 

They held a family zoom, my dads family of course, less than an hour and half after she died. I listened as they said that they needed to support my dad. Other family members who were on said they could see my brother crying in the background and no one comforted him. No one was comforting the kids. 

They had me picking coffins less than three hours after she died, I still hadn't spoken a word. 

The next week was hell. I was villianized for wanted only people she knew and loved there, I didn't get that. Strangers from the church my nana went to came. People pretended to know my mom. I wanted a private burial, didn't get that. I wanted a celebration of life with just people that knew her and I couldn't get that either. I was told I wasn't receiving blessings because I wasn't opening my heart to god. I was preyed upon in my weakest moments by my aunts and cousins to convert me to christianity. 

By the time I went home, I felt alone in the world. My dad didn't support me and believed his grief was greater than mine. We had a huge ugly fight where he said awful things to me. 

No one checked on me for months. 

I was suicidal. 

I was empty. 

I spent my birthday alone, with covid. I prayed it would kill me but I survived with a lung infection. 

I ended up quitting my job, getting evicted, and having to move back home. 

I am here and it is awful and I am getting kicked out because my aunt doesn't want me to rent a room in a house she has. 

My dad just introduced his new girlfriend to us tonight. My mom died eleven months ago. He swore the loss of his wife was greater than the loss of my mom and here he is, less than a year later, replacing her while I am still in that hospital room everyday. I am holding her hand and singing her favorite songs. I am combing her hair back, I am with her. I want to be with her. 

[Wandering Soul]

Dear Rightwhereyouleftme, 

I'm glad you've found this forum.  I'm sorry that no one has responded to your post; it is filled with sadness, hurt and regret.  Sometimes posts such as yours are hard to respond to because we for lack of words.  Nonetheless, I don't want you to feel alone.  I'm going to begin with the most important piece of the equation, and that is you!  If you're still feeling like you want to join your mother and/or struggling with suicidal thoughts, please seek professional help.  You are worth fighting for and here for a reason!  If you're in the US and need immediate assistance in navigating feelings of suicide, please reach out to the National Suicide and Crisis Hotline by calling or texting 988.  Help is confidential and free.  

It sounds like your parents have battled some very personal issues themselves over the course of a lifetime.  I'm sorry that as a young child you had to take on the responsibility of your siblings and their welfare while your parents tried to navigate their way through their personal demons.  How incredibly difficult this must have been!  I'm guessing to some degree you feel painfully robbed of your childhood; I personally can't imagine but can try to understand.  I admire your personal strength for helping your brothers along through such a long, difficult, trying time.

Several times throughout your post, I'm struck by how well you were able to work through moments of conflict with your father and/or his family.  This takes a strong, mature person.  You have a fighting spirit, but I can sense that you've grown weary.  Please, don't give up.  

I can only speak for myself, but I can tell you that even though I feel like I had a strong relationships with my (deceased) parents, I still have regrets.  I think this applies to several folks on this forum.  Perhaps I could have spent more time with my parents, hugged a little longer, responded with kinder words, listened to their stories with greater, undivided attention.  I know how easy it can be to dwell on these moments.  Instead of remaining in a regretful state, I've tried to focus on how I can implement what I now know about regret after the loss of a loved one into positive changes in the relationships I currently have with my family.  I hug a little longer, do my best to have a mindfulness of the words I speak, pay closer attention to the stories that I'm told, and I don't leave without telling someone I care deeply about that I love them, meaningfully.  I've learned to deeply savor and be present for these moments.  I know that you're feeling regretful and questioning some of your decisions concerning your mother's care, but we can't change them.  We can only work to improve.  The good news is that it's not too late for you to implement changes from past interactions or decisions for which you feel regret.  It takes time and it's a process.  It's not easy, I personally know, but I believe you can do it.  I believe in you.

I can identify with your sadness in the last moments of your mother's life.  It's such a traumatic time!  Your world crashes, time stops, you fall into a state of shock.  The machine alarm, horrible.  (I don't watch Grey's Anatomy, but I'm in no hurry to experience moments like that again myself!)  I'm glad that you were there with her.  She needed you and your support.  You provided the comforts that she needed in those moments; combing her hair back, holding her hand, playing her favorite music.  What a loving, caring, compassionate person you are.

I'm so sorry that you felt villainized by your family in making funeral preparations in accordance with your mother's wishes (and yours).  How hurtful.  This is such a stressful time; especially when a child is shouldering the funeral preparations for a parent without the full support of family.  I know our circumstances are different, but I distinctly remember having two moments of clarity when picking out my father's coffin that I want to share with you.  (I was the closest child to my father.)  I had a sibling with me and another who I was Skyping with who lived in a different state so they could be included in the planning process.  My siblings and I didn't agree on the coffin!  I wanted the casket that was very formal and different in color.  It was in this very moment I realized something... my siblings were deeply grieving too and I needed to incorporate their wishes and needs into the planning as well for their own comfort and healing.  I was also struck with the realization that no matter what coffin my father was laid to rest in, no matter the choice in flowers, no matter who was in attendance, I could still honor and remember my father in my very own personal, private way - in my mind and heart where nobody can change or alter that!  All I really needed to do at the time was to ensure that my father was honored and respected - to the best of my ability.  Are there things about his funeral I would have preferred and/or changed?  Sure, but they matter much less now having more clarity and time to reflect.  From your post, I know that the divide in your family made this a really complicated this situation for you.  It is my sincere hope that you can find a way to honor and remember your dear mother the way YOU want to in your heart, without the interference of your family or others. Protect that sacred space.

You've found a forum filled with people who can offer support to you in the very place you are in with your grieving journey.  

Stay with us.  Heal with us.  You're worth it.  You're not alone.

Wandering Soul

 

[Traz]

Dear Rightwhereyouleftme,

You have been through so much in your young life with the responsibility of two ill parents and caring for your siblings. Also having to survive when parents have addiction is something I would not wish on anyone. There are/were recovered addicts in my own family so I understand the journey.  It is not fair and I am so sorry you have had the burden of all that trauma. 

Wandering Soul made some really poignant observations and I agree that  you are resilient and handled things and situations beyond your years. I can also understand feeling at the lowest point and having suicide ideation. Please reach out to the above number if you feel like that again. Your life is worthy and purpose driven, even if it doesn't feel that way right now.

My heart goes out to you in your grief and I hope for better days ahead.

Xo 

[SarahL86]

Rightwhereyouleftme,

I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m at a loss for words for what you’ve been through, despite having lost my mom to Covid 4 weeks ago. Because there are really no words to describe it. I can empathize with the dysfunctional dynamics that put you in so many bad positions while having to be the strong one for your mom, the responsibility and decisions falling on your shoulders while fighting for what you knew was best for her. It was very unfair to you. You come across clearly as a very strong person. While the dynamics at play in my immediate family weren’t as bad, it about broke me while going through the worst days of my life. I thought I’d felt real pain before. It turns out nothing had come close.

Your pain comes through so clearly through your words, and the bond and love you had with your mom. I know the agony, the desperate hope, witnessing the decline and suffering of the one you love the most - it’s like a fast and furious roller coaster of pain and then emptiness, despondence….their absence. 

This is my first comment on the forum. I haven’t posted yet. I hope you feel like coming back and talking some more - I’d be glad to offer you support however I can.

Sarah