It's been a while, I just couldn't find it in me to work out what to say. My cursor sat blinking at me for weeks on this post. So, here it is, in words I can't speak aloud, I can't even read them once typed, My Beautiful Mum is dying. She has been declining in health for a while, we've been preparing practical and stoic like, to get things ready, pack things, sort things, label things, order things. But here we are, we are here now, and I'm not ready! I don't want this to be so. I don't want this to be happening.
This past week and a bit she was admitted into hospital, into a palliative care bed in a wonderful hospital. We are told only weeks to live - at most.
She has made peace with it. I however can't find peace with this. I feel so completely ripped off. I feel so very angry with noone in particular. I feel selfish for feeling like this.
I sit quietly in the hospital telling myself in my own head, they are wrong, we have more time.
I need more time, more time to talk.
She can't talk much now, the medications, her breathing, it's just too hard, bits and pieces, practicalities, short bursts of awakeness.
Mum and I always talk. Oh and gossip and talk and talk and work things through, that's what we've always done. We talk. No matter if I was sitting in her kitchen, or across the country in another state, my Mum has talked me through everything in my life. Good things, bad things, I've told her everything and she's told me how to get through it. I always listened, even if I didn't agree, she always listened, even if she didn't like what I was doing. Bad boyfriends, broken hearts, bad boyfriends getting married, bad exams, going off to uni, car accidents, illness, moving across the country, moving back across the country, work problems, quitting my job, getting engaged, getting in-laws, getting married, infertility, what to do in the middle of a Canberra firestorm, moving back to my home town, going back to uni, becoming a teacher.
I love my Dad, I love my family, I love all my friends and my husband and theres plenty of love around me, don't get me wrong...but Noone loves me the way she does. I don't know how to get through all the things in this life without her to talk to.
I need more time.
This past week and a bit she was admitted into hospital, into a palliative care bed in a wonderful hospital. We are told only weeks to live - at most.
She has made peace with it. I however can't find peace with this. I feel so completely ripped off. I feel so very angry with noone in particular. I feel selfish for feeling like this.
I sit quietly in the hospital telling myself in my own head, they are wrong, we have more time.
I need more time, more time to talk.
She can't talk much now, the medications, her breathing, it's just too hard, bits and pieces, practicalities, short bursts of awakeness.
Mum and I always talk. Oh and gossip and talk and talk and work things through, that's what we've always done. We talk. No matter if I was sitting in her kitchen, or across the country in another state, my Mum has talked me through everything in my life. Good things, bad things, I've told her everything and she's told me how to get through it. I always listened, even if I didn't agree, she always listened, even if she didn't like what I was doing. Bad boyfriends, broken hearts, bad boyfriends getting married, bad exams, going off to uni, car accidents, illness, moving across the country, moving back across the country, work problems, quitting my job, getting engaged, getting in-laws, getting married, infertility, what to do in the middle of a Canberra firestorm, moving back to my home town, going back to uni, becoming a teacher.
I love my Dad, I love my family, I love all my friends and my husband and theres plenty of love around me, don't get me wrong...but Noone loves me the way she does. I don't know how to get through all the things in this life without her to talk to.
I need more time.
