Acceptance

When someone loses a parent, a part of your life is forever changed. A void is ever present. Today marks one year since my own parent, my mom, went to Heaven. This time last year my sister and I were goofing around in the ICU room while Mom was in a medically induced sleep. We had stayed the night with her and were hoping for her breathing tube to be removed. They had tried to remove it the day before, but she wasn't quite ready. We were very hopeful that day. Then her nurse had some bad news. She had an infection. And it was spreading throughout her body. Her body wasn't responding well to the tube. And she would need dialysis for the rest of her life. Something she never wanted. Not only that, but she had c. diff. The only chance she had was having a surgery to place a tracheostomy, and because there was no facility around here to care for her, she would have to go to St. Louis, or maybe even Indianapolis. Far away from family. There was no guarantee she would even survive the surgery, and in all likelihood, she wouldn't.

Around noon, they woke her up for us to talk to her. We, as well as her doctor, and her nurse, explained her choices. And she kept motioning for us to take out her tube. We asked if she was ready to go to Jesus. She shook her head, yes she was ready. We made the heartbreaking phone call to family. They waited to remove the tube until our brother, step dad, and husbands came. Her brothers and their wives came, her niece and nephew came. My niece and nephews came to say good bye. My kids did not come, they couldn't come into the ICU because of their ages, and I didn't want them around all of the sadness. Friends came or called to say good bye.

I can't really remember what time the tube was removed. I just remember laughing and trying to be happy. And remembering.  And singing with her. And praying. And then she went to sleep. So we went out to stretch and use the bathroom. But her nurse called us back. We ran back to the room. Just in time. At 3:35, she went to sleep and never woke up. It oh so peaceful. And so very sad.


And now, a year later, it seems like yesterday. As the days go by, in some ways it seems to get easier. You get used to not having her there to call or talk to, or share what funny thing the kids said or did. At the same time, I still want to pick up the phone and call her. Tell her I love her. Share the day to day struggles of being a mother and wife. So now I have a new normal. One that doesn't have my mom in it. Which is so hard. What hurts the most, is the kids are slowly beginning to forget. I am trying my hardest to keep her memory alive for them, but it is so hard. It is still hard for me to talk about, and because of that, it is hard for me to share stories and talk about her with my kids.

Grief is a funny thing. This past year, I have went through so many emotions. In nursing school, you learn all about the stages of grief. For the first few months, it was like Mom was on vacation. She would be back. She wasn't gone forever. When I would go to her home, I would get butterflies and think "maybe she will be here today". Realistically, I knew she wasn't there. But before you remember, oh yeah, she's dead, your mind tricks you. And you believe for a few seconds she is home. By Thanksgiving, I was cycling through the anger, bargaining, and depression stage. Very quickly. One minute I was angry and blaming anyone I could. The next I was bargaining, what if we would have signed her out AMA from the nursing/rehab facility that Sunday? What if I would have taken better care of her? What if I had her move in with me, instead of letting her go to the rehab place? And then depression. The crying, sadness, and numbness. And then I would be right back at anger or maybe bargaining. Or maybe all three.

I'm not exactly sure when it happened. But at some point, I accepted that she died. I know she isn't coming back. I know she is in a better place. I know she is surrounded by her loved ones who went before her. And I know that someday I will see her again. I hope it isn't too soon. I am grateful that I had 25 years. And I am so glad that I had a mother that I could look up to and learn from. And that my kids had a grandmother who loved them.  I am sure I will miss her every day for the rest of my life.  I am still sad that she isn't here to see my kids and nephews and nieces grow up. And that she won't meet any future children we may have, but who knows, maybe she already knows them?

One thing that has happened this past year, I found a great God. I always knew he was there. But I just figured as long as I did okay with my life, asked for forgiveness every once in a while, I was golden. But I was wrong. I am striving to live my life, so that when my time comes, I will be ready for Heaven. I will be ready for my mom to welcome me Home and introduce me to Jesus.

Head Stones and Other Things

Today we are all going to pick out mom's head stone. I am also going to stop by her grave and collect her Christmas wreath to save for next year. Then afterwards, my brother in law and nephews and perhaps, brother, are bringing the rest of mom's things here, where my sister and I will sort through them. It is going to be a rough day.

In kid news, we have all been sick with something or another since the end of November. Ugh. Passing it around, and then someone else gets sick with something new. Great. Yesterday we scrubbed the whole house and hopefully that helps stop the sickness cycle.

Alta has a GI appointment on Feb 27, that is the soonest they could get us in. Hopefully she will have gained some weight. At her lasy doctor appointment, she weighed 19 pounds even. She is also somewhere around 29 inches. My little petite princess. Please keep her and us in your prayers.

My computer is junk, so I have to blog on my phone completely now, which leaves pictures crappy. But I will add some at the end, since I can't figure out how to add them between the texts on my phone. I has pictures from Christmas to post for you to see as well as some other places we have gone to and done the last month or so.

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

Can you read this in Heaven? Do you check in on us? We all miss you. It is almost Christmas, it is next week. I am having everyone over for finger foods and to watch the kids open presents, just like you always did. The kids are getting so big. Well the boys are, Alta is getting taller. Parker is starting to forget you, but every once in a while he remembers and says something about you. And when I'm sad, he asks if I still miss you. I answer that I will always miss you. Landon doesn't talk about you much either, but he remembers you. It doesn't seem right that our world keeps moving without you. I saw a lady yesterday at the grocery store, she was built just like you and had the same hair color and cut, and since I only saw her from behind, for a second I got excited and thought it was you. I was so happyy that I finally found you. And then, I remembered. It couldn't be you. I wonder if I will ever stop searching for you, if I will ever stop getting butterflies everytime the phone rings. It doesn't feel like you are gone. Just away. And that you will be back. And how I wish that were true. It will be 4 months this month. It seems like yesterday. But at the same time, an eternity. I hope you are having fun up there. I hope we will meet again someday, but not very soon. I still have a lot to do down here. So, Merry Christmas, Mom. Have a great time celebrating up there with family and friends that have gone before or maybe after you.

It is here...

One month ago, mom left this world and went to Heaven.

Wow. So much has happened in this month that I want to tell her. Like, Landon lost his first tooth, he joined Boy Scouts and I became his Den Leader. Sam's grandma died, and I became the last Mrs. H on our side of the family until our boys marry. Sassy died. Fall has arrived. Landon is going to be Boba Fett, Parker a dinosaur, and Alta a strawberry for Holloween. I have picked tons of apples from our our tree and have made pies, and am going to can some. Landon is doing great in school. The kids have a cold. Parker may have an ear infection. Alta goes back to Cardinal Glennon in October.

I want to gossip about Private Practice and Grey's Anatomy. I want to talk about Ian winning Big Brother. I want to talk about her opinion on the new shows this fall.

I want to ask her so many things. Like, what should I get the kids for Christmas? Which way is better to take care of her spouse, my step-dad? How, again, did you make cabbage rolls? Sam would love some. Who is in this picture? Are you proud of me? Do you miss me up in Heaven? Are you telling Grandma Alta about my own Alta, your only granddaughter? Is she proud?

A month later, I still have the urge to call her. I still get butterflies and think the nightmare is over when 'Mom' shows up on my cell phone, only it isn't mom, it is my step dad.  I just want to talk one more time.

It is coming...

The 26th is coming. A month since mom left. A month without her advice. A month that my kids grew and mom didn't get to witness it.

I haven't been blogging. I've been down in the dumps.

2 weeks after mom died, Sam's grandma died. This past Friday, my cat, whom I have had since I was 11, had to be put to sleep. I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. I will try to resume blogging at a more frquent pace again. It is just hard right now.

The Nights Are the Worst

The nights are the worst. I sit and think and remember. I cry and beg God to help me. I don't sleep. I just think.

My mother died on August 26, 2012. 9 days, a counting of days that no one wants to count. But as each day passes, another day goes by without my mother. How can that be? A world without my mom? I used to think that was impossible. My mom would never die, or if she did, I would be old and gray, not 25 with 3 young kids. I deserve to still have my mother, my sister and brother deserve to still have their mother.

 It was a senseless death. A death that was, in many ways, preventable. My mother was an excellent mother, an excellent woman. She was all forgiving and loved everyone for who they were. She was the greatest grandmother any child could want. She gave back scratches and hugs and Zebra Cakes. She was a great cook, a great comforter, a great listener.  She gave without mention of receiving. She made holidays memorable. She was a great Christian. I miss her terribly.

My kids, ages 6, 3, and 14 months, will only have vague, if any, memories of her. Alta, especially, won't remember how she sounded, how she smelled, how she felt, how great her hugs were. They won't be able to pack a bag and go stay the night with maw-maw. They won't get to sing silly little kid songs with her.

What they will have are my memories. I will keep mom alive, in my mind and stories, so my kids can know and remember this wonderful woman that I was blessed to call my mom.

My family is in an emotional hurricane. We are grasping onto each other so we don't drown. Mom was our rock, our beautiful rock that is no more. We are now becoming each others' rocks, grounding each other to life and hopefully, someday, happiness again. Mom is gone, but we still have each other, we will get through this trying time. But we will never forget her. Her lessons on life and love are with me always, and I hope to instill those values into my own kids. I know, if I am  half the mom my mom was, then my kids will be fine.

I miss you, Mom. I love you. And my kids will know you through me until my last breath.

My Mom

My mom has been having health issues again. In fact, she had a heart attack last week. It was touch and go for a while, and she was in the hospital in A Fib for a week. But she seems to have turned around. She is still very weak and tired, but she's getting there. Hopefully, she is on the road to recovery now.