So much has happened since the last time I posted. Most significant is that my mother died on Wednesday morning. They called it respiratory failure which I don't understand because she already had a trach tube connected to a ventilator. It was probably her blood pressure. A few times in ICU, it got so low that they had to give her blood to try to bring it up so she wouldn't die--at least that's how I remember it. But she's gone now and sometimes I just can't believe it.
My cousin Diane asked what her last hour was like, which is something I would have never thought to ask. She was told that the nurse went in to check on her around 5:00 AM and asked if she was in any pain. She smiled and shook her head no. The next time they came to see her to turn her, she was unresponsive, no pulse, no blood pressure, no heartbeat. They worked on her about ten minutes. It was just after six when we got the call. I'm sorry I wasn't there with her. I hope she wasn't scared. I wonder if she thought of us. I wonder if it made her sad...I think I know the answers.
I've actually been mourning my mom for the last month, but I now believe I can honestly say that I know what it feels like to cry your eyes out. I'd like to believe that she is in a better place and while it truly might be better, it's not here and it's not her home where I can visit or just sit and just hear her talk. Everything reminds me of her yet none of it is comforting. I can't see her. I can't hear her. I can't feel her. I can't smell her, except the time I scratched behind my ear and smelled what her hands smelled like while she was in the nursing home. I feel like a part of me is missing. I feel a painful hollowness in the middle of my chest. I feel like a wound without a scab. I am jealous of people who have their mothers and sad that Joaquin will not remember mine. I miss her and am afraid I will feel this painful void for the rest of my life.
My cousin Diane asked what her last hour was like, which is something I would have never thought to ask. She was told that the nurse went in to check on her around 5:00 AM and asked if she was in any pain. She smiled and shook her head no. The next time they came to see her to turn her, she was unresponsive, no pulse, no blood pressure, no heartbeat. They worked on her about ten minutes. It was just after six when we got the call. I'm sorry I wasn't there with her. I hope she wasn't scared. I wonder if she thought of us. I wonder if it made her sad...I think I know the answers.
I've actually been mourning my mom for the last month, but I now believe I can honestly say that I know what it feels like to cry your eyes out. I'd like to believe that she is in a better place and while it truly might be better, it's not here and it's not her home where I can visit or just sit and just hear her talk. Everything reminds me of her yet none of it is comforting. I can't see her. I can't hear her. I can't feel her. I can't smell her, except the time I scratched behind my ear and smelled what her hands smelled like while she was in the nursing home. I feel like a part of me is missing. I feel a painful hollowness in the middle of my chest. I feel like a wound without a scab. I am jealous of people who have their mothers and sad that Joaquin will not remember mine. I miss her and am afraid I will feel this painful void for the rest of my life.
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