Fifteen hours and nine days

I don’t often (ever?) get personal here, but I’ll try to step back into the world a little and explain where I’ve been.

In the early hours of Monday, March 4th, my mother had a massive stroke and died two days later in the evening of March 6th. We buried her earlier this week, in a cemetery that was covered with snow. We broke her home apart and dealt with all the memories. The last conversation I had with her on March 3rd wasn’t great and so the last conversation I had with her on March 3rd is all I think about.  I feel I didn’t get to say goodbye properly, didn’t get to tell her I loved her one last time.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to care about my job when I go back to work on Monday, let alone any of this. This was all a distraction, something to take my mind off of the fact that my mother had been diagnosed with dementia (probably Alzheimer’s)  a few years ago, and we’d been slowly and steadily losing bits of her with each sunrise.

I’ve talked with her almost daily for years now. I’ve ordered groceries weekly. I paid her bills, balanced her bank account, monitored her medication. My brother and I set up home heath care when she refused assisted living, tried to get her into programs that would give her some benefit, some happiness. But communicating, trying to explain things to her, was becoming impossible. Everything upset her. She didn’t remember my last visit or my phone call the day before. She grew paranoid, as is typical of this disease, and half the time saw me as her enemy instead of her daughter. Sometimes I handled it well and sometimes I didn’t. As time went on, the moments of clarity, of her humor and fun-loving nature, were growing fewer and farther between. My mother was being swallowed by Alzheimer’s. Trying to find her was like trying to drive down a road by looking through one tiny piece of a completely smashed windshield.

Intellectually I know this was kinder, that this is the ending that she would have preferred. Intellectually I know this was a blessing for her, considering what we were preparing ourselves for in the next couple of years. I know that I’ve been missing my Mom for a long time now, but all the daily worry and frustration and sadness was at least doing something. Now she’s finally at rest. And there’s nothing left to do.

It’s been fifteen hours and nine days since my world completely changed.

It’s been seven hours and fifteen days
Since you took your love away
I go out every night and sleep all day
Since you took your love away
Since you been gone I can do whatever I want
I can see whomever I choose
I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant
But nothing
I said nothing can take away these blues
`Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares to you

It’s been so lonely without you here
Like a bird without a song
Nothing can stop these lonely tears from falling
Tell me baby where did I go wrong
I could put my arms around every boy I see
But they’d only remind me of you
I went to the doctor n’guess what he told me
Guess what he told me
He said girl you better try have fun
No matter what you do
But he’s a fool
`Cause nothing compares
Nothing compares to you

All the flowers that you planted, mama
In the back yard
All died when you went away
I know that living with you baby was sometimes hard
But I’m willing to give it another try
Nothing compares
Nothing compares to you
Nothing compares
Nothing compares to you
Nothing compares
Nothing compares to you


image midwinter-dream

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13 thoughts on “Fifteen hours and nine days

  1. I’m sorry as well and understand much of what you are saying. I think we may see ourselves when it comes to our parents. Mine are gone and when Dad passed away like I had said for some time before that it will be a different world when he was gone. As long as one parent was alive it was I’m sorry as well and understand much of what you are saying. I think we may see ourselves when it comes to our parents. Mine are gone and when Dad passed away like I had said for some time before that it will be a different world when he was gone. As long as one parent was alive it was still home but that changed immediately. We’re next in line and for myself in my own way I am preparing for when I can no longer call the shots. It’s gonna suck too.

    You will be okay and life will return to more normalcy. The circle of life I guess.

  2. I am very sorry for your loss. Intellect cannot compare to the feelings in your heart. May you and your family find peace.

  3. No matter how you try to prepare yourself for the death of a loved one, the absoluteness of it is a terrible shock. In the passing of time your dreams will remind you of the good times and the shock and grief will give way to fond recollection.

  4. The fear, uncertainty, desperation and confusion has passed also; taking with it an innocent victim. There’s peace somewhere in all of our futures. Knowing that all that could be done was, through love, by love and with love and respect, enables peace to continue.
    The hurt and emptiness isn’t something bad; it signifies that you cared! …a rarity these days. Thank you!

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