As the second daughter born to a young married couple, I was not born into wealth or security. As I understand my mother and father had quite a few issues getting along and were divorced shortly after my birth. My older sister and I lived with our mother and from what I recall, we had nothing to do with our father until several years later when our babysitters would sneak him in for visitations. Of the few recollections I had of my father prior, they mainly consisted of hiding. I was around the age of four or five when he would come knocking at the door and my mother would tell me that it was a monster, to be very quiet and hide.
Mom worked at the time. My older sister and I were often left without supervision when there was no child care available. She was strict and we were punished in different ways. sometimes it was soap in the mouth, at times hot sauce, a belt/hairbrush/paddle to the rear, or kneeling on dried pasta.
Men seemed to make an appearance on occasion and in 1989 we moved into a home of a man she was involved with. All seemed well for a while, my mother became pregnant with his child and in October 1990 we welcomed home a healthy baby boy.
It seems as though it was about a year after his birth that the heat in the household escalated. At the age of eleven I was noticing more and more the lingering smell of alcohol on my mothers breath and skin. I recall waking up at 2am to police lights outside as my mother was too drunk to remember to place the vehicle in park and her car rolled back into the street. I recall being scared for my little brother as the three of us children sat in the back seat of my mothers car after she’d had too much to drink, almost crashing a few times along the way.
We moved out of my brothers fathers house, to a not so great neighborhood. My mother began bringing home men in the middle of the day while I sat and watched my young brother, and my older sister was out running the streets. Still, I defended my mother when anyone dared to speak poorly of her.
At the age of twelve my sense of right and wrong now applied to my mother. I started to understand that ‘this’ is not normal, ‘this’ is not appropriate, ‘this’ is not safe. Perhaps puberty as well played a role as I began to speak out and in some cases act out against my mother and her more significant drinking tendencies and temper. I had lost respect, lost faith and lost some of the previous fear. At thirteen I’d had enough. My sister had been in states custody for two years, my brother was now four year old, and my mother had a new man who made sure he was taken care of. It was time for me, to look out for me.
I called my father and step-mother after my mother refused to get me medical treatment for an infection. From that day forward my home was no longer with the woman who gave birth to me. Three years went by without speaking. I had my own demons to work out and needed my own time. At the age of thirteen I was afraid of the dark; afraid of my own shadow. I no longer referred to her as mom or mother, when I spoke of her it was by her legal name. The emotional trauma I held was so out of my control at times all I could do was to escape and be alone. I’d take off to the woods, brook, or under the interstates bridge just to clear my head, get some air, draw, or cry. My life was out of control, understanding was not within my ability, and soon after the big move bulimia took control. Self image was low and self esteem was even lower.
Age sixteen I was informed that my mother had only a few years to live. I bawled my eyes out all day in the nurses office. So much anger, so much hate, so much regret for what our relationship should have been. shortly after, we slowly worked towards rebuilding a relationship. We had each changed drastically in the time apart.
As time passed I overcame the awkwardness that surrounded us, I had been calling her by her legal name for a few years, yet I did not have the indecency to call her by her name, to her face. Eventually, though it was hard, I did resume calling her "mom". While she tried to offer it, I refused to take any of her advice on anythinf in my life. When I became pregnant and she insisted on being present for the birth, I opted instead not to tell anyone I when I went into labor, until after her father and I welcomed her into the world. If I had allowed my mother to be present it would have left me stressed.
My mother was 40; I was 20 and now there is a new baby, all of us so young. Mom made such a hard core attempt at sobriety, or at least during the day. When she begged me to be able to care for my child during my work hours, I was beyond hesitant. Eventually I sat down, had a very blunt concersation, and point blank told her that if she were to so much as have a sip of alcohol when she was taking care of my child, then she would never see her granddaughter again. She did so well for a year and a half, I was so proud, she seemed proud, and my daughter K was getting good quality time with her grandmother.
One day I came to pick up my daughter and I stumbled across something I had been fearful of the whole time. There was my daughter playing on the floor and there was my mother not able to sit in a chair. She tried speaking to me, but the words were mumbled, and if that was not enough to give it away, the smell was blatantly obvious. I said nothing, gathered my child and walked out. It took two weeks before she called to ask why K had not been getting dropped off. Of course telling her “you were intoxicated” only fueled the fire. Here comes the denial, the cursing and the “I hate you” from her mouth. It took several months before we were able to speak again, and from that day forward she was not allowed with my daughter unsupervised.
In the years that followed I welcomed a second child, this time a boy. I separated from their father a few months after his birth and moved to a different town. My mother was supportive in assisting me with small tasks every now and again. Birthday parties were difficult with not knowing what state she would arrive in, and she was not always included in the invites. Holidays we would visit, every month or so we would visit. Many times however she was becoming more and more absorbed in the couch, not a stitch of clothing, and passed out. Her stomach frequently had to be drained, and by all appearances one would have thought at times that she was pregnant with twins. It became necessary to call first and make a judgment based on her voice whether or not to stop in.
Tuesday, September 18th 2007 my mother was admitted to the hospital via ambulance, she had fallen in the bathroom and was incoherent. I rushed up to her side and what I saw was one of the hardest slaps of reality, my mother was dying.
My mother passed away 9/22/07 on my daughters sixth birthday from liver disease. You cannot imagine the irony of the situation. I cannot even explain how incredibly torn I was on that day, to have to choose between celebrating my child's life or to stand by my mother as she slipped away. I went to my daughters party, thankfully their father put on the party (first one ever), I tried so hard to smile and to push back the tears, but I found myself constantly having to run off and hide because I could not hold back the rush of emotions that seemed to easily overwhelm me.
I arrived back at the hospital around four thirty pm, saw my mother now barely breathing, such a raspy noise as she fought for a bit of air. No ability to respond or speak and I fled. I cried like I have never before cried, a noise so unbelievable I would not have recognized it as my own. Going down the elevator a woman asked in concern what was wrong. All I could say between breaths and deep cries was 'it's my daughters birthday and my mother is dying'.
Thirty minutes of fresh air and I returned to the room. Too many people and I recall that I felt like a speck on the wall. When the nurses moved my mother there was something that was so urgent about the moment that I finally spoke up and asked everyone to leave. I stood by her bed, held her hand and cried my eyes out, how much I wish we could have had a better relationship, how much I regret that I did not do more to help her, etc, etc. I don't know how long I was in the room alone with her, I didn't even notice that her raspy breathing had stopped. It was not until a nurse came in, checked her pulse and sympathetically informed me she was gone that I noticed. I cried even more, a part of me is gone, a part will never be recovered, so much is missing, this is not right! My family came in and pulled me from her hand. She is gone!
I arrived back at the hospital around four thirty pm, saw my mother now barely breathing, such a raspy noise as she fought for a bit of air. No ability to respond or speak and I fled. I cried like I have never before cried, a noise so unbelievable I would not have recognized it as my own. Going down the elevator a woman asked in concern what was wrong. All I could say between breaths and deep cries was 'it's my daughters birthday and my mother is dying'.
Thirty minutes of fresh air and I returned to the room. Too many people and I recall that I felt like a speck on the wall. When the nurses moved my mother there was something that was so urgent about the moment that I finally spoke up and asked everyone to leave. I stood by her bed, held her hand and cried my eyes out, how much I wish we could have had a better relationship, how much I regret that I did not do more to help her, etc, etc. I don't know how long I was in the room alone with her, I didn't even notice that her raspy breathing had stopped. It was not until a nurse came in, checked her pulse and sympathetically informed me she was gone that I noticed. I cried even more, a part of me is gone, a part will never be recovered, so much is missing, this is not right! My family came in and pulled me from her hand. She is gone!
I am going to share a few posts that I had made on social, something I had intended to share at her funeral, and some later down the line.
September 20, 2007
As many of you all know, my mother has been sick with liver disease for a quite a few years now. Jim was finally able to get her up to the hospital Tuesday morning, she has been up there since.
It was very rough to see her in the state she was in on Tuesday, since her liver and now kidney are shutting down, they are not able to process the toxins in her body. While the medicine they are giving her is not going to prolong her life, it is making it so that she is coherent and able to speak/think clearly. She can now make decisions for herself and has informed the doctors of her wishes concerning life saving measures.
She does not want to be on life support, nor does she wish to go through dialysis. It is down to comfort care. It is nice now though, she has been joking around with people as much as she can. She is aware that she probably only has a few days left, it is down to spending time with those that are close to her.
I spent Tuesday at the hospital and stayed until 2am Wednesday. I took the whole day off on Wednesday to spend with her, I left at 4pm to pick up the kids and then returned to the hospital so that Krisanta could see her one last time and also so that my mother could see two of her grandchildren.
My biggest worry is how Jim (my mothers 14 year boyfriend) and Anthony (my 16 year old brother) are going to handle things. They are a pretty big mess right now.
I returned to work today, I needed to get back to "normal" for a day. Tomorrow night I will be spending the night at my mothers side in the hospital.
September 22, 2007
I spent last night in the hospital with my mother. I arrived around 4pm and just got home around 9:15am.
Seems as though things are getting worse. When I got up there around 4, she was on oxygen because her breathing was getting worse, but she could still communicate. At around 1am she was not making a whole lot of sense, she kept thinking she was going home right then. Around 3am her breathing became raspy and she was in pain. They brought an x-ray machine in the room to look at her lungs, the results are still not in. When I discussed morphine with the doctor, she was saying that it could progress the disease. Here I am thinking 'you already stated she only has a few days, why not give it to her so that she can at least be comfortable?' My mother was restless the whole night. Finally around 4am I had insisted on them giving her something for the pain. The doctor saw their lack of sense in the matter and finally had the nurse give her morphine around 4:45am. At 5, she was finally able to sleep. I nodded off around 5:30am and woke a few times to make sure she was okay.
My aunt came in around 8 to replace me. Now I am trying to get ready for my daughters birthday party. Yet I cannot stop thinking 'it's my baby's birthday and my mom is dying'. I cried a few times in the night, but I would try to leave the room so that my mom would not hear me. Today, I am going to try and keep a happy face on for my daughter.
Seems as though things are getting worse. When I got up there around 4, she was on oxygen because her breathing was getting worse, but she could still communicate. At around 1am she was not making a whole lot of sense, she kept thinking she was going home right then. Around 3am her breathing became raspy and she was in pain. They brought an x-ray machine in the room to look at her lungs, the results are still not in. When I discussed morphine with the doctor, she was saying that it could progress the disease. Here I am thinking 'you already stated she only has a few days, why not give it to her so that she can at least be comfortable?' My mother was restless the whole night. Finally around 4am I had insisted on them giving her something for the pain. The doctor saw their lack of sense in the matter and finally had the nurse give her morphine around 4:45am. At 5, she was finally able to sleep. I nodded off around 5:30am and woke a few times to make sure she was okay.
My aunt came in around 8 to replace me. Now I am trying to get ready for my daughters birthday party. Yet I cannot stop thinking 'it's my baby's birthday and my mom is dying'. I cried a few times in the night, but I would try to leave the room so that my mom would not hear me. Today, I am going to try and keep a happy face on for my daughter.
September 22, 2007
Rest in peace…
I will love you always.
September 27, 2007
I had planned to read this at my mothers funeral. I did not get a chance to since I was needed by my daughter, but I wanted to honor my mother by allowing it to be read so I am posting it here for anyone who wishes to read.
I have been doing a lot of looking back over the years these past few days. Remembering my childhood, the good and the bad memories, remembering her final days and her last few breaths.
The past several years, my mother and Jim were able to take my daughter Krisanta to see the Nutcracker. My mother cherished the time spent together as much as my daughter loved the hours she spent with her Nana and grandpa. She had hoped to take my sisters children this coming winter as well.
The past several years, my mother and Jim were able to take my daughter Krisanta to see the Nutcracker. My mother cherished the time spent together as much as my daughter loved the hours she spent with her Nana and grandpa. She had hoped to take my sisters children this coming winter as well.
I am ashamed to admit that she and I have not been as close in recent years. I am even more ashamed that the first time in years I had told my mother that I loved her was last Monday on the phone. The phrase is something that the both of us seemed to use less and less as years went on, but one could only hope that she carried the knowledge even when the words went unsaid.
This past friday, I was able to spend the night in the hospital with my mother. As hard as it was to see her in the condition she was in, I am grateful that I was able to have been by her side. She deteriorated quite rapidly during the night. The last clear statements she had made to me was in concern over my sleeping arrangements. She could not understand why I remained in the chair by her side when there was an empty bed just a few feet over.
I did not get much sleep that night. I wanted to soak up as much of her as I could and also wanted to make sure she was alright throught the night. Her breathing got worse, her mind was no longer clear, and she thought she was going home right then and there. She would tell me to go and pack up her things, worried that everything was not going to be ready for her to check out.
I hated to leave her side in the morning. Saturday I was in attendance to my daughters sixth birthday party. My mother had picked out a guitar for Krisanta, knowing what she had wanted. Krisanta is very excited to learn how to play, and I am looking forward to attempt to teach her so that some day she can play a song on her Nana's last gift.
I hated to leave her side in the morning. Saturday I was in attendance to my daughters sixth birthday party. My mother had picked out a guitar for Krisanta, knowing what she had wanted. Krisanta is very excited to learn how to play, and I am looking forward to attempt to teach her so that some day she can play a song on her Nana's last gift.
I would like to think my mother waited to hear how her little sweet pea's birthday went. I had arrived back around five, and my mother passed a little over an hour later, and I can only thank God for allowing me the time to be by her side when it happened.
I am thankful for the clarity she experienced during her final days, so that all of the family could have another moment to remember. My mother wanted to lighten our hearts with her condition by making jokes and allowing us all to have a moment of laughter with her.
My children were able to say their goodbye's to their Nana on Wednesday, I had tried to explain to my daughter that the angels were going to be taking Nana up to heaven, but I believe my daughter was unable to understand since her Nana was right there. She even asked my mom when she was going to go home.
When I told my daughter on Sunday that the angels came for her and she kept saying "but I will miss her", two days ago she continued to say it and she started crying because she wanted to kiss her again.
I think that many of us take for granted what life has given us. I know that my mothers presence has effected each and every one of us, and I only hope that it allows us all to better ourselves and to not take anything for granted. To remember to cherish our loved ones, and to be sure to tell them as often as we can.
Thank you for celebrating her life with us today. I hope that everyone gets a chance to share a memory of my mother with the rest of us later today.
January 8, 2008
I had a dream last night that I cannot get out of my head. Granted I am taking a medication to assist in quitting smoking which actually excels your dreams as one of the side effects. More nights than not my dreams have been based around my mother.
Last night I had a dream that I was sleeping, I woke up and I could see her. So I reached out but the further I reached the farther away I got. The whole time I am yelling "Mom". Then she grabbed a hold of me and pulled me in. I swear, it was like I had actually touched her! There she cuddled me in bed and stayed until I returned to sleep in my dreams. The strangest thing about it is that I swear I could feel textures in the dream as well... the feel of her skin and of the fabric.
So, yeah... I am a little emotional at the moment. I have already been awake an hour and I have been doing what I need to do in order to get ready for work, but I cannot get it out of my head... it was so real!
Last night I had a dream that I was sleeping, I woke up and I could see her. So I reached out but the further I reached the farther away I got. The whole time I am yelling "Mom". Then she grabbed a hold of me and pulled me in. I swear, it was like I had actually touched her! There she cuddled me in bed and stayed until I returned to sleep in my dreams. The strangest thing about it is that I swear I could feel textures in the dream as well... the feel of her skin and of the fabric.
So, yeah... I am a little emotional at the moment. I have already been awake an hour and I have been doing what I need to do in order to get ready for work, but I cannot get it out of my head... it was so real!
September 22, 2008
I Want to Thank You
Seven years ago today,
I brought forth life
The day I learned what true love meant
One year ago today,
You were taken
The day I truly understood the meaning of loss
How incredibly ironic
The importance of one day!
You made my life possible
I grew inside your womb
Though our road was full of bumps
Lessons were learned
I was taught
Life went on
On the date I became a mother
Was the date that I lost mine
The memories will not vanish
The hurt, the loss, the love does not end
A piece of me gone
I still feel pain
I still feel sorrow
I feel regret and I feel shame
Words should have come sooner
Time should have healed quicker!
The questions will always stand
What if?
What if you battled?
What if I pushed?
What if time was on our side?
But the lessons were taught
And I have learned
Your life will not be forgotten
Your presence will be missed
So, thank you!
For teaching me of love
Of sorrow
Of pain!
September 25, 2008
Jim had found a poem written on the back of a Christmas card envelope. It was in my mothers hand writing and was done so sometime after December 2006. I am not sure if this is a poem she had come across that she liked or if it was one that she had written herself. Does anyone recognize it?
Do not morn me for my soul is set free.
Remember me when you see a bird fluttering free.
Celebrate my life and the love that I had for thee.
Do not morn me for I have been set free.
I will never be gone for in your hearts I will always belong.
Remember the pleasant times and always be strong.
Do not weep for me my darlings for I am not gone.
Now, again... we are not sure when this was written. Was it written for herself? I don't know. What I do know is that my cousins mother died January 1, 2007. She was roughly the same age as my mother and they were once friends. According to my aunt, my mother wanted to say something at her funeral. Was this it? Or was she writing this poem for herself, had she given up, had she accepted the inevitable?
