So I went to the doctor's office. . .

I had to go to the doctor today for a check-up because of my right kidney issue and I have been on Zoloft to deal with my mom's cancer and death.  Also, being on Zoloft really helped take care of her better.  I was able to deal with a lot of things that would normally make me freak out.  I sat down in the waiting room, and I noticed this old woman walking in very slowly with a younger woman helping her through to sit down.  I do not think it was her daughter because the young woman kept calling her "Shirley".  I watched (without being creepy about it)  how she was helping Shirley into the waiting area and helping her sit down.  Then, an older man came in, and I am assuming it was Shirley's husband.  Shirley kept trying to get up and these 2 were trying to distract her with Redbook magazine so she would stay in her seat.  Shirley reached over and hugged her husband, and then they were all called back.  I watched Shirley hug the medical assistant, and then the door closed.  It was the sweetest thing I've ever seen.  It gave me a flashback of when Bob would help my mom to the bathroom or help her to stand when she was able to stand on her own.  I remembered when she came back home after spending a few days at the hospice center. . . and she wanted to walk to her room and I think it took 2 people to help her walk there.  I remember helping Bob transfer Mom to the other bedroom where the hospital bed was.  It's strange how these things hit me now.  When I used to see this, I wouldn't think twice.  Now, it could bring a tear to my eye.  Shirley was dressed really cute for an old lady.  lol  She had on a black pencil skirt with a pink t-shirt and black flip flops.  I wonder what my mom would have been like at that age.

Bags of memories

There are 2 bags of jewelry here that my mom made.  You might as well have plopped down 2 bags full of memories.  My mom was so talented and she didn't even understand or know that she was.  Sometimes people are obviously smart, like getting 5 billion on SATs. .. or making honor roll. . . but my mom was very creatively smart, and I know that I got that skill from her.  Unfortunately, I did not get the skill of being crafty and making things.  I remember going downstairs and being shown all of her pieces.  I remember going to the craft shows and being called a lucky charm because she said when I was there, she sold more stuff.  One craft show in particular was so much fun.  They had these stuffed peppers and mashed potatoes that were amazing.  I really had a great time stuffing my face with my mom.  I know it is just eating.  But, now, when I remember her crying because she wasn't able to eat her favorite salad from the French Coffee Shop, that memory of pigging out means more to me than it ever did before.  I know it is silly, but I love making signs.  My sisters in law always seem to need signs for things, and I will create the funkiest signs.  When I am finished, I stare at my "master piece" and I know that those talents were from my mother.  Another fun fact:  I love to shop... I probably have a borderline problem. . .but I love it.  I would "shop" at my mom's house for jewelry.  She would want to just give the jewelry to me, but I refused to take it for free and I would pay.  I would take the discount she offered me though :).  I really miss going to the craft shows.  That was the best time my mom and I would spend together.  That and going to the mall together.  I remember the last time we went shopping together at the grocery store.  She would put a bunch of crap in the cart, and then put most of it back because she would change her mind.  We went to eat lunch at Cracker Barrel.  I remember being whiny and crabby that day.  If I would have known that was the last time my mom and I would have eaten lunch together, I would have told her that our time together spent hanging out was some of the best times I have ever had.  I was thankful that my mom could also be one of my friends and that we could talk so freely.  I would tell her thank you for everything she did for me when I was a kid like driving me all over town to do music and dance.  She always nurtured my creative side.  I remember being the shyest kid in the world----covering my face when meeting new people.  As I grew older, I grew out of being shy. . . . but I know this had partly to do with my mom.  As an adult, when I hung around my mom, I felt like a kid.  I wanted her attention just like a kid would want.  I wanted her to think I was amazing.  I wanted her to think that I could do no wrong.  I wanted her to say I was pretty.  She would always say I could be a model.  She would tell me how talented I was.  She would tell me how pretty my hair was.  I know this may seem babyish, but I loved it.  I loved hearing this stuff about me that no one else would say.  It is always hard to believe good things about yourself.  My mom was so special.  I thought she would be alive much longer than this.  I miss you so much Mom.  Not because you told me how kickass I am. . . but because you were one of a kind and I miss our fun.  I wish I could tell you that.

Love

What scares me the most now, is that the feeling that I have when losing my mom. . . . there are so many people in my life who I have the same kind of love for. . . there are people who are regulars in my life that I cannot bare losing.  It scares me.  It scares me that not only will I be suffering like this again, but that I had formed so many relationships with people that are so important to me.  When we are little, we don't think things like this happen to our families.  But it can happen to anyone at anytime.

It is times like right now where I need this blog

I start freaking out sometimes like I am now.  My heart feels heavy and I feel like screaming.  My husband is here, but I feel alone.  I'm just feeling heavy-like, and I am feeling very anxious.  Usually when I feel like this, tears are to follow in just a few moments.  I don't like feeling this way.  It is not controllable.  I want to control it, but I can't.  My back hurts and I feel like I need to get out of here.  There isn't anything anyone can do.  It is a very helpless feeling.  If there was someone or something that could help me, I would seek it out.  Unfortunately, there isn't really anything tangible that is going to help me.  My throat feels all lumpy, and it is hard to swallow.  It is a similar feeling to when you feel homesick like when you were a little kid and you were staying at a friend's house for the first few times, and you became sad because you wanted to go home.  I remember going to my friends' houses when I was in elementary school and I didn't ever want to spend the night because I always missed my parents.  It wasn't until 8th grade where I actually wanted to leave and sleep somewhere else.  It is times like these where there literally is a montage of memories just flashing in my brain.  My stomach/ gut feels heavy and empty.  If you talk to someone every single day for 33 years, how are you supposed to never speak to them again?  People tell me to talk to her anyway, I can't do that--she isn't here to talk back.  I don't know what I'm supposed to do when I feel this way.  I guess I'll just sit here until it passes. . . . like a kidney stone or nausea.

Music

These are songs that played a big part during that time:

Fly Me To The Moon: Frank Sinatra
My Way: Frank Sinatra
Here Comes the Sun: The Beatles
Cancer: My Chemical Romance
Someday: John Legend
Heaven: Bryan Adams
I Got My Mind Set On You: George Harrison

I have no control.

One thing I must realize:  I have no control.  I cannot control who is mad at me or who decides to stop talking to me for whatever reason.  Whatever the reason is, it must have not been that important to discuss to resolve.  I cannot change that.  I cannot change the fact that my mom had to die.  I researched and made calls and did everything that I could. . . but I had no control on what happened.  This is even more reason to enjoy everyday.  "Every moment counts."  I could not control what happened in her body even though I feel that the doctors were neglectful at some times because she did not have health insurance.  I feel like they just gave her the bare minimum and had no problem sending her home to hospice.  I feel like no one of medical importance wanted to to help us.  I cannot let myself "go there" because it will make me very angry, so I can only touch upon it.

No make up?

After all that, I ended up getting my life back.  I returned home to my husband.  I hung out with Joe.  I spent time with Sarah and Stephanie.  I rescheduled my Oregon trip.  I went back to work.  I visited my dad.  But still, what now?  

My little mom.  I started calling her that because she became so little.  She lost any muscle mass she had and she looked teeny tiny.  When I think back to when I was a little kid, she was tall, poofy haired, always running around, and make up.  Always a lot of make up.  She would say that she wore make up all the time because she was not pretty.  I think she just liked to put it on and I think she liked the colors.  I knew that when my mom stopped putting on her makeup every day, that it was not a good sign.  She said she felt so horrible that she just wasn't going to wear it.  That is when I knew something wasn't right.  I offered to dye her hair for her and she said that she didn't want to dye her hair until the cancer was gone.    After saying this, she stood up and limped over to the bathroom.  She did her business, and then came out, limping, and the faucet running.  She told me that she couldn't turn off the water. She would reach for it, but she couldn't turn it off.  Later that night, I received a text from Bob saying that he was taking her to the hospital because she fell.  The next morning, early at around 5:30, Bob called me and said that there were edemas in the brain.  I was confused, "What is that?"  "Cancer."

When I'm driving in my car, I cannot help but to have flashbacks of events or feelings.  It can get overwhelming, and I will burst into tears without warning.  I can control the crying when I'm around people, but it's getting harder and harder to control.  I ask of you friends and family to please not be mad at me if I cry.  I know it's awkward.  I know it is weird.  But, please don't be mad.  I'm trying to get it out of me.  I can't hold it in all the time.

"Life is beautiful."

One thing that has changed about me is that I really have realized how wonderful being alive is.  I know that I have not enjoyed life as much as I should.  As I watched my mom deteriorate, I watched her not able to eat even though she wanted to eat.  Eventually, she lost the desire to eat.  It made me feel bad for every time I wouldn't eat something because I was trying to watch my weight. . . . . what a joke.  My mom weighed probably under 100 pounds.  She looked like skin and bone, and honestly, you could see her lungs through her chest.  I am not exaggerating.  If I want a cheeseburger, I'm going to eat it.  I don't know when the time will come where I want that cheeseburger and I would probably kick myself that I didn't eat it.  If I want cheesecake, I'm ordering it!  Consider it me eating for my mom.  Like a "toast" if you will.  My belly jiggles and I look like crap in a bikini.  When I exercise, it is not to lose weight.  It is to release my sadness.  It is to trigger those endorphins so that I can cleanse myself of this heaviness.  When I exercise by doing that hip-hop class, LatinMIX, or Zumba, I am genuinely having so much fun.  I am observing how effortlessly I can move and learn the dances taught to me and I am thankful for every minute that I can do this.  I don't care how many calories are lost. . . .I am moving because I am so happy that I can.  Everything simple like cooking, going to the bathroom, chewing, walking down the hallway. . . . etc., I am thankful I can do it all.  This jiggly belly fat that I used to feel was the end of the world. . . it's not.  It is fine.  When I reflect on what I have done so far as a 33 year old woman, I have done some pretty amazing stuff.  My mom used to tell me all the time that she couldn't believe I was her daughter because I was always so strong.  Now, at times when I am feeling so weak, I close my eyes and I hear her telling me how proud she is of me and that I am strong.  I may feel pain inside for the rest of my life, but I definitely know now that life is beautiful.  Food is amazing, dancing is amazing, using your body is amazing.  It is all amazing.

This Blog isn't for you. It is for me.

I have never written a blog before, and honestly I never saw the point.  I have had a change of heart.

On February 28, 2011, my mom died of uterine cancer which spread to the brain.  I am using this blog to reflect upon my experiences that I keep flashing back to throughout the day.  Her husband, my sister, and myself along with hospice nurses, took care of her from December 26, 2010 until the day she died.  In those 2 months, I put aside all of my fears and did what needed to be done.

In this blog, advice is not needed or wanted.  In this blog, I am simply getting out what I need to get out.  Comments are appreciated, but not needed.  I am putting this on a blog because I want my friends and family to understand that who I was before this experience is no longer here.  I visited a grief counselor for 2 sessions, and after the 2nd session, she told me that I didn't need to go back anymore.  This blog will also help me get things out at the time those emotions are happening.

I have had friends, family members, and co-workers who have had experienced a loss similar to mine.  No situation is the same.  I would never know what to say.  I didn't understand what they were feeling.  I would try and imagine what they were feeling, and I could never get there and REALLY understand.  To my friends that are doing their best to understand but may not, I am glad that you don't understand.  My heart is broken. I want to see my mom.  And I can't.

You may not agree with anything  I say, and that is fine.  This blog isn't for you.  It is for me.  :)