10 Weeks of Reflection of My Mother's Death (10 Year Anniversary). Week 4: Regrets-A Daughter's Last Words

Some of last words I would speak to my mother that she heard were on October 31, 2007. They were the most unkind words you can say to someone dying. For about a week, it was very evident that my mother was going to die. The signs were there. Skin deterioration due to most likely was her becoming septic and the fact that she was refusing to eat. As my mother's one and only daughter, I was part of her care team along with my Dad and this was something that I could not fix.

So on that faithful day I said the following: "If you don't eat, you are GOING TO DIE!". My mother responded with a few choice words and told me to leave her alone. So I did.

I did not return to see her until that Friday before her death. On that day, I learned that my mother had a massive heart attack. When I got to the hospital, the only thing between my mother and heaven was a machine. Walking into the room, I saw a woman ready to go but could not. Her eyes were fixed but with filled with great pain and sorrow. No reflexes of any kind that I could see.

On that day, I whisper to my mother: "I will be ok if you are ready" and left the room. I only spent about 10 minutes with my mother, before my father and I decided to grant her final wishes: to not be a vegetable and we put in a DNR order or do not resuscitate. She would die a little more than 13 hours later.

This song reminds me of my mother and tremendous gifts she gave me for 34 years of my life. Without her I would not be the woman I am today. This is my song of forgiveness for her.

10 Weeks of Reflection of My Mother's Death (10 Year Anniversary). Week 3 Legacies

Ten years out I often wonder what my mother wanted her legacy to be. Most would say, her children were her legacy but I know in my heart my mother was much more than what her children accomplished during their lives. As a women who battled many diseases her legacy was most certainly her ability to move past the limitations illness brought her. She managed to raise to well-adjusted adults despite having many times when she had to parent from afar due to illness. I suspect that many who knew my mother were impacted by her strength and story as well. For those who never met her, you only have to read a few posts on my blog dedicated to her to know how strong she was.

I cannot imagine what it would feel like to be a human being with so much potential to only have it robbed from you because you to fight many illnesses, both mental and physical. Her battles with bi-polar disorder were enough to make a person quit, yet she continued to fight only to later have renal failure, diabetes, and high blood pressure wreak havoc with her body.

So as I reflect on her legacy, I am reminded on two things her life taught me: Find joy among the storms and definitely as the Beyonce's song, I Was Here says: "Left this world a little better just because, I was here."

So to honor my mother's legacy I will do the following always: read often (she loved to read and passed this on to me), work to maintain my health, spread joy, and serve others.

10 Weeks of Reflection of My Mother's Death (10 Year Anniversary). Week 2 "The Storm is Over Now"

Kirk Franklin's Song "The Storm is Over Now" is a very fitting song to the end of my mother's life. For 34 years, since my birth, my struggled with mental illness while raising her children and about 20 years into being a mother she had to face both mental and physical illness. 

The last decade of my mother's life or at least the last 15 were filled with many trips to the ER, stays in the hospital, and major surgeries that potentially could have taken her life well before November 3, 2007. 

This song is reflective of what both my mother and I felt after her death. In death my mother was released from the pain of chronic illness. For me I was released (temporarily until my father's PD diagnosis) for worry about her. 

There was not a day when I was consciously aware of what was going that I worried deeply about my mother. At young age, I resolved myself to realize that she probably would not live past 60. She made it 57. 

In addition, I still listen to this song when I am going through the "storms of life" that come and when I overcome them as well. 

Although it has almost been 10 years without her physically being her, I am thankful that she is no longer in pain. And I know when the time comes, she will come to greet my Dad, brother and I make our transition into the next phase after death. 

For now, I will live out her legacy in helping others get through their storms by seeing the strength that lives within them. 

10 Weeks of Reflection of My Mother's Death (10 Year Anniversary). Week 1

For the next ten weeks I going to reflect on the legacy my mother left me after her death on November 3, 2017. Week 1's theme is about Strength.

Whitney Houston's song I Didn't Know My Own Strength should be my mother's anthem and mine as well. My mother's life was plagued with illness, both mental illness and physical. Due to the fact that her bi-polar disorder had many extremes on both ends when it came to mania and depression, she had to take a host of drugs to manage the episodes. Although they did help lengthen the time between episodes, it came with a price. As I got older, I watch my mother move from dealing with mental illness to physical illness that in their combination would make anyone question "What's the point of all this?". Despite her later battles with the effects of diabetes and high blood pressure (renal failure) with a few more unexpected turns, she still remained strong. Her strength was evident in her children and my father. Most people never realized how sick my mother truly was unless you were in our closest circles. We hide it well.

My mother's ability to handle illness and raise two well adjusted children is legendary and she should have received a medal for it.

Unfortnately no matter how much strength lies in our veins, we all have our breaking point. For my mother, it was a hip and femur fracture that took her out.

The ability to perservere was one of the greatest lessons she gave me. It helped me to complete all three of my degrees, all while dealing with stuff. Every time I though about quitting I saw her face when she was dealing with her "stuff" and was reminded how she still was able be a great parent despite her pain.