Last moments of life

[Craig30]

I lost my mother on 12 Jan 2014. The last month has been a struggle and I guess that at present I am probably immersed in the "hardest" part of the grief cycle; it certainly feels like that. Like most people on here I'm sure, the first week or two following my mum's passing was hi-jacked with the necessary preparations for the funeral and the reception and the like. Such activities certainly occupied the mind to some extent, but with the departure of relatives and the return to "normality" I find myself struggling more and more, I am a 37 year old man with a decent job, a toddler and another son on the way; whilst my family is my life, I am finding it increasingly difficult to see the point in it all. I have become acutely aware of the lack of permanence in life as a whole. The only thing that has been ever present in my life is now gone and I can't make sense of it. The thing that weighs on me heaviest is the final days and hours of my mum's life. I was present along with my two sisters and my Aunt, my mum's sister. My mum's last days were terrible for her; she had ovarian cancer which she had suffered from for over 3 years. She had never been terribly sick however, the treatment seemed to be working, and so when she took a turn for the worse, the diagnosis of "there's nothing more we an do" was extremely shocking. She survived for 8 weeks from that diagnosis. In that time she suffered pain, weakness, indignity and embarrassment. She fought so hard, to the extent that she was conscious and lucid right up until the point of her passing. In that time I saw her lose all her weight, vomit blood, gasp for breath, exclaim that she was "scared"; in the end (the last 5 minutes or so), her breathing eased and I'd say that she passed peacefully, but the last days and hours haunt me; she was so young, 64 and, up until her diagnosis, extremely fit, healthy and active. I don't quite know why I'm posting on here, I'm in a bit of a daze, but I suppose I just need to formulate some thoughts. I feel distant from my wife, probably of my own making; with the new baby arriving soon she is pre-occupied with those arrangements but I'm almost numb to it. I'm angry that she doesn't want to talk about my mum's passing but in the same breath I'm angry when she does.

[Guest Kirbibizzle]

Hello Craig,

 

I am so sorry to hear about your mother. I lost my father recently (20 days ago) from a brain aneurysm. He was very young too, only 62. I understand how painful this is for you. We both lost our parents so recently and the wounds are so fresh. I do not know how long it will take for them to heal, but it's going to take a while. They may never heal completely, and leave a terrible scar that will remind us every day how much we miss them.

 

Though I did not have to witness first hand watching my dad suffer through cancer, which in all honestly he either had, or was going to have because of his entire life time of smoking, I can imagine how terrible it would be. Our parents aren't supposed to die. They are supposed to remain strong to keep us strong.

 

My dad was the one soul in this world that gave me a reason to keep on living and now I have to find some other way to continue on because it's what he would want. The same goes for your mother. Our parents only have ever wanted us to be happy, that's what I tell myself. They want us happy but they are the thing that made us the most happy and without them, there is a huge hole in our lives.

 

I feel the same way you feel with your wife when it comes to talking about my dad with my mom. He's the only thing on my mind, but then I get angry when my mom wants to talk about something else. I need answers. I need closure. I need my dad to tell me what to do.

 

The one, and I mean one thing good to come from all of this is that our parents got to pass as relatively calmly as they could. Any more suffering on their behalf just for our benefit of them being in this world just a bit longer would not feel right.

[WhereIsMyHome]

Hi Craig -

 

My heart breaks reading this because I can only imagine what you are going through.  I'm sorry.

 

I lost both mom and dad within 2 days.  There are a million horrible feelings that come after losing someone so loved, feelings which are inevitable.   Often, I want to be alone and no one else matters to me because I miss my parents terribly and the only thing that can solve that is bringing them back, and that's not possible, so I'm often an emotional wreck.  Today I read this on a website called lisabadams:   "Sometimes when we grieve we don’t know exactly what we need, and in the end, no one can provide the “fix” for us — that could only happen if our loved one came back." 

 

So what we're left with is the shock, the suffering, needing them more than ever, missing them too much, not caring much about anyone else or anything else, feeling the unfairness of it all, guilt, sadness, having had our life forever changed (for the worse) with us having no say in the matter, going through the motions of the day, pretending that we can handle things (though it's all an act), dialing their number and being shocked (again and again) into reality that they're no longer there. 

 

I keep reading that things do "get better" eventually, and that this terrible suffering is a part of the "normal" grief phase.  Frankly, there's nothing normal about it to me, and while things might one day get better, I sure don't care right now because all I want is to have them back with me. 

 

That said, my hope for you is that you are able to find some peace now and then in your heart, so that you can continue on without feeling so tormented.         

 

I lost my mother on 12 Jan 2014. The last month has been a struggle and I guess that at present I am probably immersed in the "hardest" part of the grief cycle; it certainly feels like that. Like most people on here I'm sure, the first week or two following my mum's passing was hi-jacked with the necessary preparations for the funeral and the reception and the like. Such activities certainly occupied the mind to some extent, but with the departure of relatives and the return to "normality" I find myself struggling more and more, I am a 37 year old man with a decent job, a toddler and another son on the way; whilst my family is my life, I am finding it increasingly difficult to see the point in it all. I have become acutely aware of the lack of permanence in life as a whole. The only thing that has been ever present in my life is now gone and I can't make sense of it. The thing that weighs on me heaviest is the final days and hours of my mum's life. I was present along with my two sisters and my Aunt, my mum's sister. My mum's last days were terrible for her; she had ovarian cancer which she had suffered from for over 3 years. She had never been terribly sick however, the treatment seemed to be working, and so when she took a turn for the worse, the diagnosis of "there's nothing more we an do" was extremely shocking. She survived for 8 weeks from that diagnosis. In that time she suffered pain, weakness, indignity and embarrassment. She fought so hard, to the extent that she was conscious and lucid right up until the point of her passing. In that time I saw her lose all her weight, vomit blood, gasp for breath, exclaim that she was "scared"; in the end (the last 5 minutes or so), her breathing eased and I'd say that she passed peacefully, but the last days and hours haunt me; she was so young, 64 and, up until her diagnosis, extremely fit, healthy and active. I don't quite know why I'm posting on here, I'm in a bit of a daze, but I suppose I just need to formulate some thoughts. I feel distant from my wife, probably of my own making; with the new baby arriving soon she is pre-occupied with those arrangements but I'm almost numb to it. I'm angry that she doesn't want to talk about my mum's passing but in the same breath I'm angry when she does.