The Most Difficult Words...

It happened to me AGAIN this year!

As I mentioned in an earlier blog entry, March 5 is the anniversary of my Mom's death, and TODAY is the TEN YEAR anniversary.

The first year was definitely the most difficult - a time I thought I might not actually survive - but after the 1st anniversary passed something happened to me....On the 2nd anniversary my good friend Christian called me from England in the middle of the afternoon. We chatted for a while and finally he said, "Well, I know this is a big day for you so I just wanted to call and see how you were doing." I had NO IDEA what he was talking about! And so, in the most kind and gentle manner, Christian reminded me that March 5th was the anniversary of my Mom's death.

WEIRD!

Every year since then, invariably someone else reminds me of the "importance" of the date in question and I gasp, shocked that I may have almost missed the passing of this solemn milestone yet again.

What is this lack of memory all about? Certainly not a lack of respect or love of my mother! I like to think that it's a positive sign...that I'm doing OK, getting on with my life, that I've done a LOT of healing....And just what IS an anniversary anyway? Any given day, or moment in time...has no inherent meaning other than what we assign it, right?

I've spent the last five years in particular really working on letting go of the past, trying not to project into the future...and taking a gentle hand with myself in trying to live in THIS moment. (easier said than done!!!!) And in THIS moment, right now it's March 5th, it's Sunday, and I started the day by nudging my reluctant ego into the gym without the realisation that on this day, 10 years ago my Mom died.....Then a friend reminded me, "It's March 5th."

I wonder if friends expect March 5th to be a more difficult day for me than it seems to have been over the years? People who have not yet lost a parent, who think that when it happens to them -they'll never get through it....I thought that too, before I went through it. Everyone goes through it in their own way of course, but 10 years ago I could NOT imagine a world without my Mom in it...and certainly thought that the anniversary of her death would forever be a dark and debilitating day for me.

Not so. The heart heals and life goes on. I suppose though that what anniversaries do provide is an invitation to pause and reflect on where we were then, and how far we've come....

Ten years ago, on this day, we had a Home Care nurse staying with us in the house 24 hours a day. My Mom's best friend, Marilynn had also come to stay with us...to be there "for the event". I was sleeping. At around 3am (I think), my brother's girlfriend at the time, Abby, came to my room and woke me up....

"The nurse says your Mom probably only has five, or six hours left..."
'Ok,' I said, 'I'm coming.'

I made my way upstairs and down the hall to my Mom's room where Jamie and Marilynn were already sitting with her. I was terrified as I sat down on the edge of the bed and took her hand. Marilynn and Jamie were saying things like, "We're here with you....everything's going to be ok...". I, on the other hand, was completely mute. What does one SAY to your mom when she's dying in front of you? Really! I can tell you what you're thinking, you're thinking,'NO!!! I can't do this. I can't sit here and watch it happen. I don't want to be here.'

Eventually the most powerful knowing came into my mind. "She doesn't know you're here. You're not saying anything, she can't hear your voice...so she thinks you're not here yet and she's waiting for you, wondering where you are." Ah! Well, that got me started. I crawled up onto the bed and leaned into her field of vision and said, "I'm here Mom. I'm here."

...and then, it was as if something else just took over and all three of us started talking to her. We said, "It's ok for you to go now. We're here, and we'll be ok, and you go now. Let it happen. Just go. Relax, and go."

And she heard us. Her eyes started to tear up. And she listened to us. She relaxed and didn't fight it and she...just...stopped breathing. It was that simple. And the moment that she was gone was SO clear and obvious, and what was left behind was not HER - it was just a wrapper, a vehicle....And what was meant to have taken five, or six hours...took ten minutes because we talked her through it, we let her go.

And I was relieved it was over. Cancer sucks. Illness sucks. Death itself - doesn't suck so much actually. In my Mom's case it was SO simple and quiet and gentle....And I am SO grateful that Jamie and I were there. There is something very RIGHT about being there to usher out the person who ushered you into the world. I highly recommend it actually.

So - now, 10 years later, pausing and looking back - it's like it happened yesterday! Yes - it's possible to go right back there and live it all again...I'm glad we gave my Mom a good death, at home, in her own bed with her best friend and her children at her side. And I know we said the right things in the moment - when what I really wanted to say was, "STAY! I'm not ready for you to go! This is too soon!"

A greater wisdom prevailed.

TEN YEARS! I miss my Mom....but it doesn't hurt all the time, the way I imagined it would. Life is good. I'm OK...And now that I've taken this moment to pause....I think I'll get back to the rest of my day.

R