In A Funk. What to DO!
I've been in a funk
for a week or two. It hit me today that my Mom died 2 years ago. She was 88. Had a good run. Did everything she wanted to do. Ran out of savings so didn't have the money to do the things that she didn't have the body to do anymore anyway.
The timing was perfect.
The manner sucked. She was visiting me. Not one of my brothers. No, it was my watch. The second day in town she slips on the sidewalk splits her head and because of blood thinners, she starts bleeding out. It took her 3 horrible weeks to die. Three weeks on a rollercoaster. She's better. There's no hope. She sat up on her own today. She's not going to make it. We can't keep her here, she needs to be in rehab. She doesn't need rehab. She's too sick. She needs a private nursing facility. She died while they were arguing.
Her last words to me
before the fall was, "I'm tired of living like this, Linda. I'm tired of needing help up the steps and into a car and so many other things." Did she fall on purpose? No, she wouldn't have done that. She was just that kind of lucky, I guess.
Me?
I get to walk around for 3 or 4 weeks with fuzzbrain. Reliving the daily 2-hour drive to the hospital they transported her to. The ones who said they couldn't help her.
When do we learn
that the medical profession is not ultimately looking out for the patient anymore? It's a money game. She was over 70 and down to medicare. She never stood a chance. But they kept her going to age 88. That's an accomplishment. She had open heart surgery back in the 70's when it was a big deal to do such a thing. We all thought she'd be dead by 55. That's 33 extra years she bought.
They were good years
But for the last few. Plagued with Macular degeneration and frail bones and a bad heart, those last years were like a cruel joke life played on her for trying to hang on too long.
I was and AM sad
to lose my mother. She was seldom kind, but I miss her still. I miss the woman I started to get to know in those last 33 "extra" years. The woman who went on a cruise with me. The woman who went on two cross country trips with me. The woman who gave me my only 4 star review on my first Children's Book. All the others gave me 5 stars. But Mom didn't believe in 5 stars. "Nothing was perfect." She was worth knowing. But she'd have only given herself 4 stars.
This is sad, and my heart goes out to you. My adoptive mother was never a mother to me, so I never had these good experiences and memories. She's 88 this year, but I'm lucky to have a 5 minute conversation with her on the phone before she wants to be off doing other things. It's always been this way, and I don't know how I will feel when her time here is up. But I'm sorry you still miss yours, and will keep you in my thoughts and prayers. (((hugs)))