Just found my diary entry when Mom was alive a few months ago… Watching someone you love suffer so is killer.

Tonight was rough. It’s becoming clear that Moms situation is only getting worse but I’m so forcefully in denial. We all are. She could still get better, we say, we think.

She has become uncomfortable lying down, it puts pressure on her back and tummy so she started sleeping sitting fully upright in her hospital bed at home. We’ve had to rearrange the entire house to accommodate the rather large bed hospice provided for us- but Moms much more comfortable in it than her normal, flat across bed. Thank God.

But tonight was harder on her. It’s been weeks since the procedure, I’d have thought she’d get some relief by now. But it hasn’t been that way.

I kept watching her, as she sat up, collar bones popping, her skin stretched so tightly across her face that even her nose looks drastically different, because she hasn’t eaten in so long. Not bad, she somehow manages to look beautiful even starved and malnourished and constantly in a cold sweat, but she’s so different.

But after a while of helplessly watching her struggle to stay sitting up, her elbow occasionally giving and making her jolt awake, the whites of her eyes reverting scaredly back to her murky brown irises, I started to cry. It was torture. She couldn’t even have a painless sleep anymore.

“I just want you.. To be.. Comfortable… When you’re.. Sleeping..” I told her, when she softly asked me what’s wrong. And there’s nothing I can do, I thought.

And then the sweetest thing happened. She weakly patted the empty spot on the bed next to her, “oh baby, come here, come here. Don’t worry, my tummy will feel better tomorrow. The pill will help, won’t it?” She kissed my shoulder and tried to wrap her frail arms around me. I leaned into her lightly. “Don’t worry, Nans.. I know what’s wrong. You’re too tired. You need to get some rest.” She was my mom, still… There to comfort me. All in her soft, breathy sweet voice. It felt so good to have that from her. Just the once..

There is nothing like a mothers love. it so amazed me how even in her condition she could sense how much I needed comfort in that moment and she put all her energy into giving it to me.

This whole thing has made me realize, although I’ve hardly slept in days and the depression and delirium had started to get to me tonight, that the fact that my body is fully functioning and beautiful is such a huge blessing, and I should cherish, be happy, and take care of my body, instead of pick on it and push it to the limit on the daily. I am so so lucky to be healthy.

Yet I constantly scold my body, you need to get stronger, more fit, more muscle, I tell it. You need to be productive and moving 100% of the time until you are out of your mind with exhaustion.

Lonely? Hopeless?
I feel both all the time. I have a lot of happy moments in between. And I’m scared. I feel like we’re inching closer and closer to a massive turning point in the new year and I don’t know if it’s going up or down. I just love my mom so so so much. More than anything or anyone I’ve always loved her.

She was my best friend when all the girls at school turned on me with their backstabbing and gossip. She showed me how to be a true woman. She showed me the beauty in life, how to take pleasure in the small things, whether it be interior design, travel, beautiful places, homes, etc. She taught me a standard and a lifestyle.
And she always taught me to appreciate everything i have.
But most of all, she believed in me. She is the reason that I know I am brilliant. She is the reason that I will be a very successful novelist one day.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s