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.
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.