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My Beautiful Mother


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On Sunday, my sister and I were chatting via text about some things that Mom was saying when she and my aunt were visiting her. Mom was talking about wanting to go home and, if you follow any end of life counselor, they say that wanting to go home is an indicator that they’re ready to go. My sister and I didn’t want to believe that because there have been many energetic conversations. 
 

Don’t get me wrong, I know that they can look that way. It’s part of the dying process. I woke up Monday morning feeling weird. My sister woke up Monday morning, practically paralyzed. She was so exhausted she couldn’t move. She called out of work and she texted me and I told her about my weird feelings. Later on that evening, I tried to call mom and she wasn’t available. She was probably sleeping because they had her on her full dose of morphine. 

 

I sent her a text to let her know that I loved her and wished her good night. As always, I sent several purple hearts to her. Purple is her favorite color. The next morning I woke up and got through my workday, but I still felt very strange. Usually when I feel some intense sadness or like I have absorbed way too many feelings from other people, all I have to do is turn on the news to find out that it was another school shooting. No joke, this has happened to me several times in the last year and I don’t like it.

 

I called her as soon as I clocked out and got into my car. I was on my way to my daughter’s apartment because she needed to go to the store. Mom and I shared a couple of laughs during the conversation. She really did sound more tired than usual, though. I chalked it up to the morphine. My daughter got into the car and immediately started talking to her grandmother and asking her how she’s doing and all that stuff. As we rolled up to the grocery store, I told mom that I should probably let her go , because it would be a hard conversation in the grocery store because it’s noisy in there. She asked me to take her in because she hadn’t been in a grocery store for so long. She wanted to hear the sounds. Of course, I obliged. 

 

At some point in the grocery store, I told her I needed to get off the phone. She told us to have a good life. I asked her to repeat herself because that was such a strange thing for her to say. She repeated the exact same thing so I knew she meant it. I told her I loved her and that she was beautiful and that I was going to talk to her on the following day, which was my daughter’s 29th birthday. That felt weird. I texted my sister to let her know about the conversation and I talked to my daughter about her grandmother. I asked her what she would do if her grandmother died on her birthday. Would she want to know? She had plans so I just wanted to make sure that we were on the right page together. 
 

After I got home, I wrote a Facebook post. It was basically talking about how one of the end of life coaches that I follow said that sometimes, the loved one is waiting for permission or the blessing of a certain loved one. I had thought that I had blocked my mother from it,  but I was wrong. The only sad face on that status was my mothers. And part of me feels like I fucked up. I know I didn’t fuck up, but I feel like I did. But my sister had already given her permission and I had not done that.  so I’m thinking that maybe when she read it, she viewed it as finally you know I’ve got her blessing. 

 

I went to bed on Tuesday night, but I didn’t sleep. I basically laid in my room all night. Just nothing going through my head. I’ve just laid there. At 7 AM on the 31st, I clocked in. I was gung ho and trying to bang out some deals when my sister called me a little after 8 AM. She said the hospice called her and she was on her way there and would call me as soon as she knew it. What exactly was going on. that I could no longer function. Everything went numb. I was going to hang on the phone for I didn’t care how many hours if that’s what I needed to do to help mom cross over to wherever she was going. 

 

At 8:30 or so, my sister called back and all I heard were big, loud sobs. “She’s gone! She died before I could even get here!“ And everything just started to echo. It was like I was in a hole and I couldn’t hear anything straight and I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I mean, I could because she was terminally ill. We knew it was going to happen eventually. But I’m going home next weekend and it was mainly to spend more time with her. And now it will be to mainly spend time with my sister. I will also see my aunt who really swore up and down she should’ve been the first to go. And now in her family of four she’s the last one standing.

 

The nurses told my sister a couple of things that were just kind of surprising. When they checked on her in the morning, my mother looked at them and said “I’m done.” And they knew exactly what that meant. They called my sister. and they prepared Mom for a peaceful passage. One of the nurses told my sister that they had a conversation and Mom didn’t want to put either of us through this. We all watched my father die, and it was traumatizing. Mom didn’t want that for us.
 

This is all incredibly surreal. I spent practically my entire day on the 31st floating around in my pool and crying. Just crying. I’m pretty damn sure that she was in my house on Wednesday night because one of my dogs absolutely refused to walk through my living room. I always have the bedroom door open and then I take them out one more time but she would not come through and go upstairs. She kept looking at the ceiling. So I looked at the ceiling. I didn’t see anything. No bug, nothing.. And I do think it was my mother. But I had to tell Barb that she wasn’t going to get hurt and that it was OK. 
 

she can haunt this house as often and for as long as she wants. But she hast to go haunt my sister too because it’s only fair. 💜

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