Monday, November 29, 2010

4 Months

Today, since my mum left us.
I remember that day like it was yesterday. The hurting still feels like it was yesterday.
That morning my dad my sisters and I went in to the hospital early to be greeted with some incredible news. Mum had decided to proceed with chemo and treatment.
We were elated.
My sisters and I went and had a coffee.
My brothers arrived and we excitedly told them the good news.
We talked to aunts, telling them that maybe visits should be postponed until after treatment (mum had said she didn't want any visitors, she was too sick. We didn't physically stop anyone from visiting - despite what one person would have us believe. We just recommended that they not come yet. I still think this was the right thing, despite it being hard to say. We did what mum wanted.)
We snatched moments with mum throughout the day.
We spent most of the day in the waiting room. Just waiting for a stolen moment with her.
At 5 o'clock my little sis was asking to go late night shopping. Luckily we didn't go.
At 6 o'clock my dad came running out to tell us all to come in. It wasn't looking good. I will never forget his face.

We ran into the room. Mum looked sick. Sicker. I have never seen such a change in a person.
We sat and held her hands. We told her we loved her.
At 8 o'clock, she was gone.


I have so many regrets just thinking about her last day.
We left her to sleep on the Wednesday night, about 2 hours after we left, dad got a phone call from mum. She had dropped her sick bag and the nurses weren't responding to her. Why didn't I jump in the car and go back to her? I could have spent so many more precious hours with her. I could have just been there for her, like she was for me so many times throughout my life.
That afternoon, instead of telling my sister to go in and spend time with her, I should have taken it.
So many regrets.
If I knew then, what I know now.
And I know I can't change anything. I know she died knowing we love her. I know all that. But it doesn't stop the 'what ifs'.


I just feel dead inside. Like if someone was to look into my eyes, they would find nothing. yet I am expected to do and be so much to so many. Like nothing has changed. I feel as if, when such an amazing woman left us, that everything should have stopped. Should have changed. But it doesn't. Everything is the same...but so different.

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one:
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods:
For nothing now can ever come to any good
.
W.H. Auden

And yes. I do have good days...I have days when I can remember her and smile. And I know they will become more frequent.

I know that the dreams will slowly stop. The horrible dreams where I am trying in vain to get to her. Where I am trying to save her. I know they will stop.

I just miss her. And am trying to come to terms with my own regrets.


13 comments:

Julie said...

Big big hugs Missy K.

donna said...

{{{hugs}}} to you honey, I am glad that the happy moments are becoming more frequent for you
Donna xxxx

Kate said...

i too, have regrets in regards to my dad kirst and its 16 years since he has been gone. however you cant change the past even if you wanted to do something differently, BUT you know your mum was a very loved woman, she KNEW she was loved, you can just tell in the photos of her that she is just glowing, and happy and PROUD of who she is and what she has accomplished. dont ever forget that she is still with you, not in the physical sense but in all other ways :) big hugs for you xox

Kerryn said...

awww love.

You were there when it mattered most.

Hugs.
x

jacqui jones said...

hugs


regrets are the worst!

Kristal said...

I want to be able to hug you right now, but distance prevents that. Even tho I have never met you or your mum I can see just by reading about your life she was, and will always be, an amazingly beautiful part of your life.My heart is with you xoxox

Tracy said...

Hugs to you Kirsty. Just know that you loved you mom and she loved you.
Regret is an aweful feeling.
My dad passed away 3 months ago. He lived on his own and i was his main care giver. He passed away while I was gone on a mini vac (3 days) with my daughters. I had asked family to check up on him while I was gone. Nobody did. He died alone in his apartment.
I feel guilty that I wasn't there. Maybe I should have phoned him while I was away. Maybe I should have phoned my sister to make sure she checked on him.
I have to stop myself and focus on the time that I did spend with him, and we both enjoyed that.
What I am saying is focus on the good times with your mom. We can't change what happened.
You were there for you mom, remember that.
Again hugs to you Kirsty.

LG said...

this is an awesome news! hang in there
HUGS

Hill St Friend said...

Thinking of ya and sending lots lots of hugs xx

Tanya Tahir said...

Big hugs, Kirsty...am always thinking of you xx

Shelley said...

Just heartbreaking Kirsty. I hope the pain eases for you soon. You are right.. regrets are the worst xx

Miss Nicky said...

Oh sweetie I just want to reach through the screen and hug you right now! Although I don't know exactly how you are feeling I feel your pain. My mum has been battling cancer since January and it's been such a tough year. I can't imagine life without her and don't think i'll ever be prepared for that. Be strong and just keep remembering the good times xo

kathie said...

Oh Kirsty, I am so sorry to hear about the loss of your mother. Yeah, the what if's are a natural part of grieving. Hugs.