My mom passed away Friday evening. It wasn't a sudden event. Her health hadn't been very good over the past year, but she kept fighting. A bout of pneumonia did her in. Well, that along with the lung cancer and emphysema. I, along with my sister, thought that she would be in the hospital for a week and be back with us again. Instead she went into the deep end and never came back.
It was a tough decision we (brother and sister) had to make on Friday. My mom had been on a respirator for the past week. All efforts to take her off of the machine had failed. The doctor and case specialist explained her condition. Her lungs simply weren't strong enough to function on their own.
Though you prepare yourself for the worst, the realization still hits hard. I knew my sister would be overcome with emotion. That is her way of dealing with things. Let it all out. My brother, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. He showed no emotion whatsoever. Being a physician, he encounters this. Still, it seems weird that he wouldn't show any feelings towards the eventual passing of his mother. Even as his wife weeped. If anything, my brother showed resentment towards her. Though it pissed me off I held my tongue.
Though I was prepared for this, I still broke down a bit. I am more like a pressure cooker. I keep it all inside. I become a bit distant and just want to be left alone. As needed, I let out bursts. After one final blow out, I try to find my zone. It seems cliche but yes, I did dive into the bottle. A little whisky helped me. I don't get drop down drunk. Just comfortably numb.
Eventually, I find ways to reconnect with the world. I guess even writing this is part of the healing process.
In my state of isolation, I spent the day listening to a lot of music and remembering my mom. There were more tears shed but they were also with a smile of my face. Thankfully I have no regrets with her. There is no "I wish I had told you how much I loved you" moment. I always told her. Of course I wish I could have had one last conversation with her. But I am still content with that.
I went into the spare room to take a look at the music CDs I had taken from the house.I recall a time in the late 80s when my mom became a metal head. Though she had some Whitesnake and Led Zeppelin, I recall her saying her favorite band was Ratt. I looked for the one disc she had from that band. After not finding it I realized I had stolen it many years ago. Detonator is the album title. I played it a couple of times before switching to Zeppelin. Music is the best medicine.
Funeral services are tomorrow. It feels kinda cruel. After a couple days of dealing with the sorrow and accepting it, you go and feel the sadness again for a day. Like ripping a bandage off the wound just before it was really healed up.
After all is said and done, I'll raise a glass to you and thank you again mom. For I give you a ton of credit for the successes I have had in life. I'll remember the beaming smile and pride you felt when we succeeded. I'll remember the support you gave us when we were down and needed help. And most importantly, I'll remember the love you gave me.