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Cannot accept death and questioning after life


Nightshade

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Does anyone else feel scared for the afterlife after a loss? I lost my grandfather (the man who raised me after my father passed away from cancer when I was 6) in early February of this year. He was on and off hospice for four years and was being care giver by my mother and I in our own home. He was unable to walk and had problems. So the death was not a super sudden surprise, but the timing of it was surprising. Losing another parent figure in my life broke me and I paid and made the funeral arrangements on my own, when it came time to see his body, I saw it and left gifts in his casket. I have tried to move on with life and have been successful at doing that so far but every day haunts me. I feel that he will return and that he's just at a doctors appointment right now. I cannot accept that he is gone. I try to remember him when he is alive but the image of his body and him in his hospice bed haunt me and break my heart. I am not very religious, but I do believe in an afterlife. But after his death, not only have I had the image of his body in such horrible conditions in my head, I fear that there is no afterlife. I fear that he just went to sleep and that his soul isn't out there watching after me. I try to tell myself ofherwise because I want his soul to be living on, guiding me, and looking down at me, but the thought that there is no soul or afterlife haunts me and makes things worse but I cannot stop thinking such thoughts. Has anyone else had a similar experience? I would love some advice or someone who can relate to these struggles I sm having..

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Never better

I feel scared too. I was seeing all the things you were and haunting me everyday and at night, 24 hours a day, everyday. It's gotten better now to the point where I really feel the love that I have for my Mom, and what she has for me. It's inside of me. I can't see it, but I feel it inside. It's a strange "knowing" connection. I still have nightmares, but they're not as frequent but still equally disturbing. If I start thinking about all those things I saw that happened to the most beautiful and wonderful human being I have ever known and have the privilege of even being related to, it kills me. It literally sends me down a hole so deep and black that I have such a hard time escaping. It's still there and I still cry my heart out frequently, but if I start to think of the really traumatic things I saw and that her and I went through together, it annihilates me completely. So I stop my thoughts and try to focus on something positive, or a positive happy memory I have stored at home in my mind. I go there. When I can't, I cry from the depths of my shattered heart and soul. I think what helps me most is that I keep talking to my dear sweet Mama like I always have, like we always have together. I know what she'd say back to me because I know her by heart, and she does for me. This helps me feel connected, which we will always be, because she is the most special person to me on this earth, and probably will ever be. You know true love when you go through something like this (though no one would ever want to and God knows I never would have imagined in my worst nightmares, nor did I have any inclination that it would be my beautiful Momma or that it would happen anytime soon. Really, no thought, ever). But I do know real love, because real love sacrifices without a second thought, real love gives because your heart cries out to do it, real love stays by your side and fights and takes care of you because it wouldn't even occur to do anything else but that, real love is happy to be with you and hold you, real love lets you know how special you are and will never leave you. My Mom is all of those things, I tried my best to be all of that and more to her.

It's not easy and I'm a few months ahead, but try to focus on the love you have. That will never leave you. It's still too much for you now but you soon will feel it.

If you want to talk anytime please email me, you're not alone. Don't be afraid to reach out to anyone here, or anyone you know. Support really helps. It also helps to know other people understand what you're going through. You are not alone. I'm so sorry for what you're going through. Sending love to you.

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I felt the same. I used to have nightmares when my grandparents died years ago. I was afraid to go places or be in the same place by myself. When my mom passed recently, I was scared for the first week. In my religion, it's believed that the soul of the deceased returns home after 7 days. Some people would go as far as to sprinkle flour or talcum powder to see if footsteps appear. I got a little spooked, but that was it.

 

Our moms and your grandfather loves us and is here to protect us from harm.

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silverkitties

May, are you Buddhist by any chance? I have heard similar stories from my relatives...as a horror fan myself, I remember feeling very spooked out when my aunt told me a story about how 3 of her cousins were visited by their deceased father. All reported a flash of light at the same time. Another saw a footprint too. 

 

But now it's different after my mom died in October. Again, I was reminded by my parents' Buddhist friends that the dead come to visit exactly a week afterwards. And so it was: at precisely 11:45 am the following week, our two cats raced around and ran to my mom's bed! They hadn't been there for some time.

 

Then when her ashes arrived the following Wednesday, the cats ran to her bed again. I have had other strange incidents: for instance, two brief power outages when my dad and I were preparing for her memorial service, and a brief one on her birthday. (Have to say I don't know if anyone else in our neighborhood experienced such.) There was also a time when a nightlight turned on by itself.

 

Coincidentally, her memorial service took place on the 49th day after her death (the day the soul ascends?); it also happened to be her feast day as she was Catholic. Strange, huh? And we didn't even know when we planned this...we were just waiting for a day when the church and pianist were available. 

 

There are probably rational explanations for all of these incidents. Maybe there was a neighborhood outage. Maybe the water from roof leak caused the light to turn on. And yet, none of it really disturbs me; I kind of like to think my mom is somehow still around watching over me. Mind you, I'm an agnostic: you can't prove there is a God--but you can't disprove it either. 

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silverkitties, I'm an agnostic as well....well, sort of. My mom is a Buddhist. My siblings and I are just followers. Even though I don't believe what my mom believes in, I or we still followed. Ever since my mom passed away, I find myself sort of believing some of the things she believed in. For example, putting food in front of their alter at home and putting incense and pay respect. I find myself doing that. I've never prayed or payed respect to the ancestors because only males were allowed to. Now, when I make one of her favorite dishes, I put it at the alter and talk to her as if she was there. I bow three times and tell mom to eat up. My eldest sister told me to pray/talk as if she's there. Each time I do that, I can't help it, but cry. I turn around because I don't want mom to see me cry. I miss her so much and cry every day. It's going to be three months since her passing on 3/13/15. She died on the same day she came to the U.S. 

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OmegaMangos

After my dad's passing, this is the thing I am sure is causing my anxiety. Sometimes I get so upset and say to myself "well then what's the point?"

The fear of the unknown scares the hell out of me. However, a friend just recently told me about an article she read. About a prestigious scientist who was absolutely 100% convinced that there was no afterlife and that everything people claim is due to the chemicals in your brain. Apparently, he got into an accident of some sort and was dead for like 20 minutes. He claims that he felt so comforted. He remembers walking with a person he had never met before, just talking to them. He wasn't afraid at all. After that experience, his viewpoints did a complete 180 and he is now 100% positive that this isn't the end.

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silverkitties

Fascinating, May and OmegaMangoes!

 

May, I remember seeing one of those altars at our local Asian grocery. I wanted to buy one for my cat when he died in 2008 and my mom said "Are you nuts?!" My parents have never been devout worshippers; however, my mom was very attuned to Buddhist tales, legends, and myths even though she was baptized Catholic at an early age.

 

It's been nearly 8 months since my mom died on October 4th. Some days are OK; sometimes I feel I miss her more than ever. I try to eat dinner by myself than with my dad because the hole in my heart feels even deeper when we're at the table as mom's seat is so conspicuously...empty. It is a hole, literally and figuratively speaking. Thoughts of my mom are always flooding back when I'm cooking because I used to enjoy doing so for my mom; not to mention that I always felt good when she praised my meals.  I feel an especially strong pang when I'm cooking her preparing chicken soup /w ginger in the rice cooker because I only learned it in the final month of her life: it was a soup that she herself excelled at--and one that she prepared for me whenever I was ill. As it turned out, this soup happened to be one of the last meals I cooked for her before her stroke. Whenever I'm cooking a meal that she liked,  I always say to myself, "this one's for you, Mom."

 

Every once in a while, I burn a candle: it's strange, I used to burn one for my cat at the end of every month since he died on December 31, 2007. But when my mom died, somehow, I felt so exhausted. As if I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't even retain a ritual.

 

I think what has made this grieving so difficult are my thoughts about the afterlife. I have been told by Buddhists that life is like a dream...that my mom passed into my life--and out of it. That I will never see her again since she will supposedly be reborn.  I felt so sad after hearing that and felt upset for the rest of the day. Interestingly enough, the Christian sect I am probably closest to is Unitarianism: and they don't believe in the afterlife either. Had I been raised in another belief system, I might not feel as terrible as I do. I would like the solace of believing that one day I will be reunited with my mother. Because that's what I want more than anything else: to see her again, to talk to her, to love and feel loved.

 

Omega, there may indeed be an afterlife. And yet, it will be hard to believe until one actually experiences it. If I ever do reunite with my mother then, I know it will be impossible for me to tell anyone. I still dream about my mother but I never construe it as a message from beyond: I know--or at least strongly believe--that it happens because my mom is almost always in my mind, whether conscious or unconscious.

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I was told by the sister that the deceased come back as an animal or insect like a butterfly. Her mother-in-law who died many years ago was a Buddhist who prayed/chant everyday for an hour with her rosary bead necklace. One day she was in deep, deep prayer and she saw herself along with some monks going to the other side and was able to see how she was going to die. She saw exact detail of her death and things she saw. On the day of her death, it was exactly as she said. I think my sister and her family is protected by her mother-in-law.

 

For example, my sister lost one of her earrings twice. She looked everywhere and no earrings. She uses the computer everyday and wasn't there. One day she sat at the computer and guess where it was?! Yep, on the keyboard. The 2nd time she lost it she found it at the foot of the recliner she sits on everyday. Her husband even vacuumed all around.

 

After my mom passed, I think she's around me. Twice in the morning when I wake up I can smell mom. I used to help mom rub Chinese medicated oil for arthritis or tummy ache. One of those times, I smelled it strong and I thought that maybe someone else in the house used to oil. Some of the medicated oils are strong such as Pak Fa Yau.

 

So, sometimes, for me, it's not hard to believe that there isn't afterlife.

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silverkitties

Looks like I'm going to have to get one of those altars--maybe my mom can help me find stuff!

 

I have not smelled my mom yet....only had experiences with the brief outages and the time the nightlight turned on by itself. I can't stop thinking about the time everything went out close to the end of her birthday for just a moment. I wish I were looking out so I could tell whether it happened to my neighbors.

 

We have so many bugs here like giant moths...in fact, my mom was constantly on the watch swatting them. She was a vermin hunter extraordinaire...even squashed a mouse barehanded; my dad merely put the mouse in a plastic bag. Now if I see any of these creatures I'll probably be thinking to myself, what if that's mom?

 

I remember seeing a hawk in one of our trees the day after she died: it was the first time I had ever seen one live and on our property.  I told a friend about it and he said maybe that's your mom....mighty mouse catcher and protector of the family.

 

If only I knew I could see my mom again (and my cats), I would feel so much better.

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silverkitties, I forgot to mention one more thing that my sister's mother-in-law saw in her deep prayer. She said when they (Buddhists) die they stand in a long line in front of the highest judge. He is to judge people if they were good or bad on earth. I also think she said that there were 5 layers. The last layer is Hell, in between is spending time behind bars and the top layer is being free to be what you want to come back as animal or insect.

 

We were taught never to bother butterflies or moths. If it gets inside our house we made sure it goes outside. It could be someone. Recently, there were six leopard moths in our front yard against the wall. They were about 2 inches long. They just stayed in the same spot for about a week. This was a first. We've never seen them before. We just didn't bother them. 

 

Sounds like your mom was a brave angel. Squashing a mouse with her bare hands?! OMG!! You literally made me laugh today (while I was down and crying all day) what your friend was saying about the hawk....'mighty mouse catcher'. I wouldn't even kill a disgusting cockroach only if I really must. Like if it gets inside the house then I'll do what I have to do.

 

I know that my mom is in good hands and not suffering, but, in back of my mind I worry, how is she really?!

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silverkitties

They say you learn something every day; well, today I learned from you that Buddhists have a purgatory! My parents have always said stuff like "if you do that, you will go to hell." Or "you will be struck by lightning." I never knew if they were referring to Buddhist belief or if they were merely conflating it w/ Christian belief. I will definitely have to study up on this.

 

Around here, there are very few butterflies...only moths: and they are the size of butterflies. I don't mind them outside...just don't like them inside because we have a ton of clothes and books. And even though we have window screens, they always manage to get in somehow. I remember the time she saw one and she bought fly swatters the next day for every room. I tell myself I would like her to return as a cat...I called her my little kitten last year as she had become so fragile. Now I feel like the protagonist in that child's book "Are you my mother?" I'll be looking at every animal in a new way. 

 

I myself have never really considered prayer. I see my dad doing it and I have to admit it sometimes annoys me...maybe if he took better care of her, she might still be alive. After all, it's generally the husband who dies before the wife! I keep thinking how much my mom sacrificed for the family. She was the only one who cared for our family: she was not only our resident mouse-catcher--but financier, broker, tax accountant, handyperson (she knew how to fix toilets--and could even draw diagrams), and gardener.  He has been nothing but a source of stress for her for over 5 decades--terrible husband and father: and yet, she never really considered a divorce even though I had suggested it to he a number of times.  At any rate, his praying for her seems so after the fact and I almost always ask him do you think it's going to bring her back? You should have been nicer to her and treated her like a wife, not a servant! He didn't even bother to submit an obituary to their native country until it was too late. Shameful--and he worries about praying!    

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I've been doing the same, looking at butterflies/moths differently. When I saw the leopard moths, I was thinking to myself, "Okay, which one of you is mom, grandma and grandpa?" I keep thinking in my head the size of the moths at your house if from a SciFi movie..LOL 

 

I'm sorry your mom went though so much. For her to do all that, it's just not fair. It sounds like your mom was a very bright and hard-working individual. Like an octopus with many hands but just one person.

 

Just like my mom. We are originally from Hong Kong and mom is from the Toisan village. My mom was married to an asshole. He mentally and physically abused my mom. He had a drug problem. I didn't know about all this until the last 10 yrs. He died when I was a few months old. She went though a lot of hardship to provide for her family. There were many, many times she skipped meals so the children could eat. There were six of us. She worked in the rice fields before sun rise till sun down. We had thin portridge that had no meat just like drinking water. Of course what little money we had, dad would take it all to support his drug habit. He would beat up mom if she didn't give him money. That's why I don't care to know that man. When we came to the states she worked at my grandparents mom-n-pop grocery store. She worked till she was about 84.

 

I never was the praying type. The only thing I do is bow three times in front of mom and tell her I made this dish and eat up. I have to burn the incense so she can eat. The incense represents the food that's in front of the alter that is for her. 

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silverkitties

May, I am in awe of your mother. She sounds like a fantastic woman: very hard-working, extremely capable and highly devoted. It's not easy moving to a foreign country where the alphabet and language are completely different. I know this as I studied in England for 7 years: no language barrier of course, but the culture is quite different. In fact, many Americans had problems there. Your mom was obviously tough as she lasted for a good 85 years! That is something to be proud of--and you must have helped her tremendously yourself. 

 

My parents are from Taiwan--but my mom was married to an asshole too. Maybe not as extreme, but an asshole all the same. My mom came from a wealthy family; he came from a poor one. In fact, my mom even helped fund his travel over to the US when he came to study as a graduate student in the 1950s.

 

He was a terrible father and an even worse husband. All he ever did was put pressure on me: none of my American kids had fathers who pushed them the way mine did. I had to study either medicine, engineering, or math. Nothing less than an A was acceptable. The only questions he ever asked me were "How did you do on your test?" He hated taking my mom and me out because we were distracting him from his "important work." (What crock as he's only taught at 2nd and 3rd tier universities. NOT a genius!) We never got any presents either.  As for my mother, she had to do all the household chores and taxes because he was "too busy." She had to make all the moving arrangements when we moved 3x in 5 years across the country.

 

Then when I was in highschool, he started cheating on mom w/ a distant married cousin during his sabbatical. He even tried to make her adopt one of his mistress's daughters for immigration purposes! Then when I busted my butt and got into one of the nation's top 5 universities he wouldn't let me go because he didn't have enough money: this is after he pushed and bullied me throughout high school. When I went to college, he was actually late because he was busy fooling around with her even though he promised my mom he would stop.  

 

For some reason, my mom continued to trust him: despite the fact it was pretty clear he continued to cheat on her. She saw the c**t mistress' brother in my dad's office once. Why the hell was he there? Anyway, my dad continued to have contact with her even though my mom nursed him back to health after his heart attack (quintuple bypass) in 2004. 

 

Unlike most fathers who care about leaving their family financially stable, he has not. We have never been his first priority. Yet, he was always ready to use Mom to the max. He'd get up very late all the time; my mom was expected to dash him to his appointments and cook for him at all hours. She once drove back and forth twice across town because he didn't listen to her and waited in the wrong place. He'd never listen to any advice we gave him; he'd warn him and he'd ignore us anyway, saying "that's tough. It's been done." He would claim he was busy working on a book to establish his name, but who cares at this point? He should have been doing this in his active years to provide for his family--NOT fooling around / his c***!  Hard to believe that someone this irresponsible actually has an Ivy Ph.D.

 

I hate the very sight of him. I hate the fact that I look like him too; it makes me want to kill myself. Although I suppose it's a blessing that I can't pass on his disgusting genes. I tell him EACH and EVERY DAY that he helped kill Mom.She was way too good for him; too bad she didn't listen to her parents and married this total loser. He's always behaved like he expected Mom to be his personal SLAVE even though she did him a big favor by marrying the boorish likes of him. (His whole family is like that.) He hates me reminding him but I tell him "too bad. Who told you not to listen? If you had, we wouldn't have to go through any of this."

 

I cry for my mom every day and every night. She was the only one in our family who loved and cared for us. She really was my ONLY parent, from beginning to end--even if she defended dad more than she should have. I think of how she struggled to learn English, her 4th language, and how she had to adapt and deal w/ prejudice in a new country. She was the family glue.  It's not fair that someone who did so much, was so devoted,  and barely had a chance to rest had to die first while my inconsiderate, idiot father is still alive. But as they say, life ain't fair.

 

I am sorry this is so long. I am depressed as it is pouring down hard--just like the hours after her passing. As if nature were mourning her death. Today is nearly at the 8-month mark as she died on October 4th. She used to tell me that in Taiwanese, 4 is an unlucky # because it sounds like "death." And so indeed it is. I have no idea how I will endure this summer when all of her troubles began to accelerate on June 17th before culminating in her death in October. I wish I could have another sign of Mom's presence...again, if I knew there were an afterlife I could rest easier. It would be like those long visits she made to Taiwan...when I almost always knew I'd see her again.

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Oh, silverkitties, sorry that you and your mom had to endure so much. Sounds like you father is all about himself and used your mom at the same time. A liar will always be a liar when he promised to stop cheating. 

 

I know that 4 is a bad number. My grandmother died on July 4. Please, no apologies for your write-up being long. That's what we're here for. To listen and support. **Hugs**

 

 

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silverkitties

May, thanks for your support....I tell you, this site is a godsend and has helped me feel a little less lonely. When your friends are far away and you have no one nearby who can truly understand or confide in, grieving becomes even more magnified. Yesterday was one of those days. It was pouring and my father was acting like his typical asshole self: always irresponsible and never caring about others. Yes, selfish is indeed the word--and yet I don't know how my mother put up with it for well over 50 years.  I would have called one of my cousins to complain, but she just lost her father 2 weeks ago (my mom's oldest brother)...and she will understandably be helping out her mom who nursed him through Parkinson's for the last 30 years.  

 

I did not know 4 was an unlucky # in Hong Kong too: I thought it was only in Taiwan because "4" sounds like "death." Is it the same in Cantonese? I now wonder if this is common to Chinese culture. The Taiwanese also burn incense, although my parents have never done it at home--even before we had cats.

 

Of course, numbers and luck are relative...July 4 is a good date in American history as it marks the birth of our nation. However, I suppose it could also signify the death of its mother-child relationship with Britain! (Yes, Britain was considered a "mother" nation then...) And judging from the way many Americans still worship everything British--including the monarchy--I guess "we" haven't quite gotten over the loss=)

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You are most welcome. Sorry to hear your uncle's passing. 

 

Cantonese and Mandarin are almost similar. 4 in Cantonese is pronounced "say". I think all Chinese culture are the same...including Malaysia, Singapore, Beijing, Macau and others.

 

I hope to someday return to Hong Kong and to my mom's village to visit. I want to see where she grew up. I've never been there. 

 

Today, is one of those days. Crying, feeling empty and down. I want my mama.  :sad:

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silverkitties

Hugs to you, May...I know all too well how it feels. Sometimes it's manageable; at other times, it's not. And even on a good day, you never know what might trigger off grief. I think I already mentioned this in another thread, but I remember feeling terrible when vacuuming as I picked up a receipt for lunch on the day she died.

 

I wish my Taiwanese were better (as for Mandarin, I never learned it...wish I did now); I would love to ask my mom's sisters--she had 6 of them and 3 brothers--about her childhood. Sometimes it's only after their passing that you realize how little you know about the one you most love. Half of her sisters are over there, and 2 of them here but the one who knows her best only speaks Taiwanese.  

 

If I had someone else in my life--say, a son or daughter or a husband--I'd still be grieving, but I don't think I would be feeling so doubly lonely and depressed. I remember when my mom's mother died, she seemed to snap back pretty quickly. I was around so at least she had someone to talk to.

 

However, I can only imagine how much worse it must be for someone going through a bitter divorce or break-up in addition to losing a much loved parent. Or having problems w/ their kids. It must be terrible to go through all that with no support system.

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When I woke up this morning, I smelled the medicated oil again. Could it be mom or I'm just imagining it? Mixed emotions right now. Sometimes I just want to be with mom and just call it quits. The memory that keeps playing in my head over and over again was when she had the stroke and when she took her last breath and died. I never been with a dying person.

 

I had to keep my Cantonese because mom didn't speak English. She spoke another dialect (Toy San) but she understood me. 

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silverkitties

I wish my mom were here so I could ask her about the different dialects! She spoke Taiwanese, Japanese, Mandarin, and English; Japanese was probably her best language because she grew up under the occupation. Ditto my dad. Neither of them would teach me, however; they used to say that I should learn Chinese, and preferably at a school. I think the true reason is that they wouldn't be able to have any secret conversations, LOL.

 

That's fascinating that you can smell your mom. Is the ointment anywhere near you and have you opened it?

 

One day I smelled my mom's perfume...then realized my dad had sprayed it on because I'm always complaining about his odor.

 

A lot of memories play in my head, depending mostly on the weather. When it's warm and cloudy, I think about her days in July when she was at the hospital. When it's cool and overcast, I think of April when she had her first stroke. It always makes me feel wistful because she seemed to recover so well from it. Mother's Day was very hard for me...as i'm sure it was for you and all of us who've lost our mothers. For me it was excruciating because it was the day she returned from rehab and looked so well. I would give anything to have that happiness again even though it was so fleeting. 

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It's awesome that your mom can speak so many languages. I wish I can speak Mandarin. Yes, you're probably right as to why your parents didn't teach you. Just like my brother-in-law. He doesn't speak Chinese because his parents didn't teach him. They spoke Chinese in front of the kids because they didn't want then to know what they're talking about.

 

All ointments are put away. It could be that I'm imagining it. I don't know.

 

Sometimes I wonder if I'm going to die from a massive stroke like my mom. I already had 2 strokes. I like to be active. I like to walk and do basic stretches. I used to do Pilates, yoga, core, aerobics and running. Can't do them anymore because of my handicap.

 

Mothers Day was no celebration. We went to the cemetary and I just lost it. I just wanted to stay with mom the whole time while the others visited the other grave sites. I usually visit the others but, I forgot to pay my respects. Not a good day at all. 

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silverkitties

May, do you know what caused your strokes? I worry too about my own possibilities--especially since I feel so stressed out.

 

My mom's first stroke was caused at least in part by her bile duct cancer; although we didn't know it at the time. After all, she seemed to be recuperating so well. It wasn't until 2 months later when her ankle was swelling that it was discovered. After she died, we learned from a relative that several of my mom's maternal aunts also suffered from liver and pancreatic disease and cancer. I now look back and think maybe if we had known that we might have gotten her screened. And yet she always looked so active and healthy till the day before her stroke.

 

We did not bury my mom; we had her cremated so her ashes are in several urns in our house, including a small one to be brought back to Taiwan where some of her ashes will be buried with her family. Eventually, I want all of us to be scattered in NYC, our first real home.

 

Is your medicated oil the Tiger Balm stuff? We use it all the time; in fact I use it so much I don't even think of any of my parents; I am more likely to think of college where everyone hated the smell of it--but found it highly effective for stomachaches and headaches.

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I had a bleeding stroke. A small blood vessel in my brain ruptured. I had no symptoms or pain. I just felt weird. I leaning against the car when I got up my legs seemed weak. Told me sister, she thought I was low on sugar because I hadn't had dinner yet. She gave me a bottle of Gatorade and couldn't open it. When I took the first drink, it leaked on the side of my mouth. My sister said, "May, I think your having a stroke."

 

Two weeks prior to my stroke, she received an email on recognizing stroke symptoms. I was in ICU for over a week and rehab hospital over a month. Doctors said i'm lucky to be here. I wouldn't be here talking with you if I wasn't active. Thank God! No paralysis. Could it be that there's cancer genes in the family? 

 

My mom used Pak Fa Yau is a mentholated oil. Very strong but it works. Google it. 

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silverkitties

May, you have been absolutely amazing--it sounds like you had a very serious stroke. ICU for a week and rehab for a month means you must have been close to Death's door for a while. And you were blaming yourself for your mother's death?! That is not right.

 

I know how difficult it is taking care of elderly parents as a relatively healthy person; lost sleep, tiredness, and being on call nearly 24/7 can take its toll. I I can only imagine how much more challenging it must have been for you--not really knowing if something was going to happen to yourself again too. 

 

Your mother must be so proud of you for all of your sacrifices. It seems like you were her sole caretaker over the years, right? That must have been a burden of sorts on your part--even if you loved her.

 

Many parents would consider themselves so lucky to have a daughter like you. I hope the gods will reward you over the coming years because devotion like yours is so rare. Bless you--and your mom!

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Yes, I was her main caregiver. For awhile, I had no help from my siblings, whatsoever. Until mom was admitted to the hospital (I forgot for what) and I cried to my siblings that I need help with mom because it's not fair that I've been doing everything. I'm handicapped and I get no help while everyone turn the other cheek. That day afterwards they started to help, but still, no matter what, I was the still main caretaker. I feel that I don't have to speak up because it's not May's job, it should be automatically. It's their mom, too.

 

Mom would always call me to help her even though there can be others standing there. I have to admit there were times where I was so frustrated and exhausted that I snapped at mom because it's always me, me, me. I cannot even step outside for a breather. I understand they all have work and I wasn't working. I have two sisters. When it comes to taking mom a bath, huh, you can forget it. She only did it a handful of times. She says she'll be there but, doesn't show up till 2-3 hours later.

 

Thank you kindly for them words. 

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silverkitties

It never ceases to amaze me how people treat the handicapped. If you're handicapped, you're supposed to be doing less--not more. It's like they are punishing you for being disabled. If this started taking place after your stroke, that's even worse.

 

Society also has a way of making single people feel like drudges--and that's in both Eastern and Western cultures: like you are not supposed to have any will or desires of your own. You are meant to be a drudge and thereby taken for granted.  Are you at least able to talk to your siblings about your mom? Any of your relatives? You need to make sure they know just how hard you're worked! It's an emotional, mental, and physical toll.

 

Caretaking is tiring and frustrating enough when you're healthy....It wasn't too bad at first; but when my mom's bladder problems started after her cancer diagnosis and a new med, it got increasingly difficult. It was so hard to sleep with her as she kept waking up to use her potty just when I managed to fall asleep; in all cases, I had to change her diapers. (She slowly lost the ability to change them herself.)   I can't say how many times I've lost my temper at her for other things; although my dad always managed to aggravate things more as he is so lacking in basic common sense. Things got worse when she refused to eat. She would also just sit there without watching TV. Looking back in retrospect, I now realize how wrong I was to be optimistic about her chances.

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It was after my stroke that I took care of mom. She took care of me (I think) the first 2 yrs of my stroke. You know me and my sense of time. She was able to walk without help. I think this last 6 yrs she started to slow down. She went from the cane to the walker and then wheelchair. It was so hard to convince her to use the cane because she says, "It was embarrassing."

 

There were so many times she fell in the bathtub. Could've broken her bones. She's very lucky....and several times falling backwards just inches away from the legs of the bed. I cringe every time I think about that. It could've been a nightmare. She's so lucky.

 

My family is funny. Sometimes you can talk and sometimes it like i'll just save my breath. Now that mom isn't here and i'm not working since I was laid off 2 yrs ago. I can't work because my good hand has carpel tunnel from overuse....but, I stay busy around the house inside/out and cleaning out mom's clothes. Every time I start clearing mom's clothes I cry my eyes out.

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silverkitties

I have yet to do a thorough cleaning of my mom's clothes. Some of the very nice stuff, I gave to one of my aunts; the very used stuff I just dumped in recycling.  The rest will be for salvation army. Unfortunately, with my book, I haven't really had chance to sort through it  I still have difficulty looking at the bag of clothes I brought to the hospital--and back: when we thought she would be returning home with us.

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We haven't touched my Mom's clothes, ugggh.  There are 4 siblings.  I'm sure I will do all the work, which is fine I guess.  The most I have done is go through her magazines and throw the 1,000 of them out that she had, LOL  She was such a nut.  She also had a ton of pictures... that she was gathering and sending back to people.  This bothered me when she started doing this a few years ago and I'd say "Mom what are you doing?", and she say "sending these pictures of people to them, they won't have any use here after I'm gone"... and I'd say "where are you going?", and she'd look at me and say "Karyn your mother isn't going to be here forever", and we'd kind of joke a little and I'd say "maybe you'll be here until you're 100"... and we'd smile... so when she passed in October, I finished what I called her "picture project", and all the pictures are sealed and ready to send I just have to get them in the mailbox which you'd think would be easy, but I've been so dang busy they are still not in the mail, uggh

 

As for her clothes and the rest of her condo, it still remains.  We agreed to just wait it out and heal a little before deciding what to do with everything... so we are still waiting.  I go there all the time and clean what I can, and purge what I can... but it's going to be a long process of deciding what to give away, keep, etc.

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silverkitties

Waiting it out sounds like a good idea, Retz: God knows it's already a chore getting through everything else like the finances. It's interesting that your mom was already thinking that the near was approaching...sometimes you wonder if they know or feel something. My mom was the same way too--always sorting through her jewelry. She was doing this even more last year; I really should have known then.

 

And yet, despite all her endless sorting, she could never make up her mind so I have no clue who to give what!

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Hi Retz62,

 

There are 6 siblings. I think I'll be the one clearing and cleaning mom's stuff. I've cleared a lot but, there's a lot more to be done. I'm not going to rush it though. I'm going to take my time. 

 

At least your mom was able to talk and joke about death issue. My mom...forget it. She doesn't like to talk about it, listen or even watch commercial. When she sees a funeral in a movie or a commercial that shows the cemetary she say to hurry turn the channel. Hurry! Hurry! I would tell her don't be like that because everyone is going to go through it. Paranoid!

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