Wow, how my life has changed...

It has almost been a year since I have posted a blog. I have done a couple on My space, but I am not sure how I feel about that.

I spent so much time writing about how unsure of what the future would hold, and now it is here. The worst that I could imagine happened, and amazingly we all continue to live through it. I can not say that I went through the experience of losing my mom unscathed, because that would be a complete and bitter untruth, but I think I have came out on the other end a better person for what I went through.

First and foremost everyone must understand that caring for a dying person is the hardest work that you will ever do. You know the outcome, and your love is like that of when you see your newly born child. You want to soak up every inch and detail of their face, their hands, and wrinkle, every mark, the imprint must remain in your memory. My mom, bless her heart, her head was so swollen, stands of strangely brown and gray hairs traced across her head. Her eyes, still the most beautiful blue that you will ever see had lost that sparkle. Wrinkles from age and illness danced around her eyes. Even across her face she developed a little monkey like fuzz, that I know would have bothered her if she had still cared about those things.

The last few days must have been so hard for her to internally deal with. We had to make so many difficult decisions to enable us to keep her at home. And oh, god, the last day. I had to give my mother a suppository. She was sooooo mad at me. That still races through my mind that that was the last thing that I did for her. She took some pain medicine shortly after that, the second time in that whole journey that she had done so, and drifted off to what would be her last night.

The following morning when I arrived at the house, I knew that it had not been long since she had passed. I could still feel her there if that makes any sense. She was still warm when I touched her hand. By the time Eric and Andy arrived to take her to the funeral home that warmth, presence I had felt was gone. It was a whirl wind after that. I felt like every trace, except for the smell, of her illness was removed from the house within a few hours. She was there, and then just like that she was gone.

Approaching four months after the fact I would say that we are all dealing in our own way. I hate pink ribbons. people who speak of the cure. I know that I should not feel that way, I do want women to live, I just wanted my mom to be part of that group that got to live too, she loved life.

We were at a wedding reception last night, and a Bob Seager song came on. Affected by way too many spirits, I just lost it. I had to leave the room. I was that sad drunk that I do not want to be. I wonder if I will be haunted by certain songs, smells, stores for the rest of my life or if those things too will pass?