Mom

You know when they tell you "if you keep crying like that, you'll make yourself sick?" That's the phrase that comes to mind when I start crying and remembering my mom. Sometimes I cry so hard that I really do come close to making myself sick. I don't cry a lot because I don't let myself. I was told I have to be the strong one, so I try. However, there are moments that I just can't be strong. 

Today marks the 1 year anniversary. So many thoughts go through my head. As I remember this week last year, I wonder how my family and I even made it. It was February 17th when I received a call from my Dad. He told me that things have taken a turn for the worse and he's not sure how much longer Mom has. I told him I'd be home tomorrow morning. So I woke the next morning, and went to work.. I was working part time at the daycare I had previously worked at, so once I finished my 3 hours shift, I was on the road by 9am heading to Cleveland. All I could think was, "it's not as bad as dad thinks. Mom is going to be OK." I finally got there around 11am. I walked in and saw Debbie Demming sitting across from my mom. And then I saw my mom. I looked at her and knew something was completely different. She was hunched over and could barely life her head because she was so weak and sitting that was somehow made it easier for her to breathe. I said "hey momma" and she said "hey Honey" It's amazing how much you miss hearing those 2 little words. Then the Hospice nurse showed up to check on her. When she was done, I was sitting at the dining room table where I had been watching, the nurse came over to me and my brother who was sitting at the computer and said that she doesn't think that she'll make it 2 weeks. That this is it. 

I've never had anything hit me more like a ton of bricks than those words in that moment. It was the first time I couldn't control the sobs. So I stepped outside and called my sister. I just cried and said she needed to come up here now. Jenni told me over the phone that she noticed mom was different the previous weekend and that she should have told me to warn me. Sometimes I wish she would have, but other times I'm thankful that she didn't. I hadn't ever let my moms sickness get to me. As real as it was for my family, I still managed to think that things will get better, my mom will beat this. Maybe it was the only way that I could deal with it. Since Jenni didn't tell me, I finally broke. It made it real when I saw with my own eyes, and then heard it confirmed by the nurse. This was it... I had waited too long. I had wasted too much time thinking everything was going to be OK.  

Jenni finally arrived early afternoon. It was a huge relief. I know I had Jonathan and Dad there with me, but Jenni was there. She had more experience dealing with this area in life since she had worked at an Assisted Living home for the past few years. We took over. Not in a bad way, but a way that let my Dad get some rest. He had been doing an amazing job of taking care of her. Now it was our turn. 

Jenni and I would stay up through the night and try to make mom feel as comfortable as possible. Getting her to take her meds and try to eat were top priority. However, the eating quickly stopped as well as the drinking.  A sip here, a sip there. I just remember looking at her as much as possible. And telling her every chance I had that I loved her. Initially she would respond with an "I love you too" but then those began to fade. She couldn't speak, only small sounds. At one point mom was hungry and I thought "great! Things are turning around!"  Only to find out that this usually happens. They have one more moment of clarity, to say goodbye's then they pass. This is what the nurse had told us. It was happening, and I couldn't stop it. 

Thursday, February 23rd. That night around 11pm the stress had built up in me. I took it out on my sweet brother. To this day, I wish I hadn't. He had dealt with what was coming for the past 6 years. He had lived with it and helped take care of her and watched it all unfold. And he was only 16. He's so much stronger than I give him credit for. I pray for him everyday. As I do for my whole family. For him I say a special prayer. To listen to my mom say "what about my baby?" as she's sitting there holding on to life, Wow. She just wanted to know who was going to take care of him. Her sweet little boy that God had blessed us with. she didn't want to leave him. The Hospice nurse had told me that she was hanging on because of Jonathan and Brayden, her unborn grandchild. Mom had told her that. 

In the early morning hours, she passed away. Quietly in her sleep. It was the first time I could see her not struggling. I am thankful for her new place of rest. She's without pain and discomfort and with Jesus walking down those streets of gold. To say I miss her is an understatement. There's a hole, one that will never be filled, one that resides in my heart for my mom. It's hard not to think about things in my life that she won't be here for... when I get married, when we celebrate Jonathan graduating high school, watching my nephew grow up, or my kids that I will one day have. To just hear her voice again would make a world of difference. I love her so much. 

I'm proud of my family. We pulled this strength that we didn't know we had. It's not an easy road, but we are getting through. To have watched my parents live up to their vows, "until death do us part," says a lot to me. Not all hope is lost. With that, and the help of some amazing friends and my Savior, I'll be able to make it. 

Thank you to each and every person who was there for my mom. She was beyond grateful, and so are we. 

Love and miss you Mom... See you later. :)