All of these posts are going to be from my perspective. There was a lot that happened through Mom's illness that I wasn't a part of, of course. I couldn't be with her 24/7 although let me tell you - I wanted to be there ALL the time. I became a total family only recluse. I didn't go anywhere or do anything without checking with Mom first. This year I'm not going to involve my family in this series but I may next year. I'm not even 100% sure I'll be able to talk about ovarian cancer every day for the month of September but I am going to try.
That night, after Mom's surgery, we all assembled together in her room. She was still very, very sedated so we basically just stood over her, rubbing her back or rubbing her legs and hearing her moan every once in a while. We could ask her a question but we might get half an answer, if we got anything at all.
No one wanted to leave, though. Dad actually spent the night and I honestly don't know what time my sister and I finally left but...neither of us wanted to go. Laying there she looked so helpless and I can't speak for my sister but I know all I could think about were all of those things I had done wrong. All of those things I'd said and couldn't take back. The bratty kid, the loud-mouthed teenager, the girl who ended up pregnant while in high school, the obstinate, self-absorbed ridiculously childish daughter I had been for years.
I wish I could tell you I grew up that day but...there was more childishness to come. Sometimes I think fear is the most telling thing about a person's character. How I react when I am scared witless says a lot about me and I'm usually not so proud of who that is. In thinking about it, though, I keep praying I will react better next time. I'll be more thoughtful, less selfish, quieter in situations - listen more, talk less... you know what I mean.
All I can remember, though, is all those memories swirling around my head and it starting to echo through my head that my mother was going to die. Maybe not from cancer, maybe not soon but...there was going to come a day when she wouldn't be a part of my life and I wanted to scream. I wanted to howl and scream and just...throw things. Glass things. At walls. And scream more. Life without my mother looked so bleak. And it was then that I realized that losing her would be hard.
And like I've said several times - I had no idea what "hard" actually was...
No comments:
Post a Comment