Here it is Jan. 2015. I guess I shall start where I left off with my last blog entry, and continue on with the story, and explain why grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, the mere thought of them, have me well up, with tears sliding down my face.
We are still residing in the "bat cave"... alot has happened since we moved back, "home".. Just as I am trying to adjust to the reality that we ( my husband and I) have lost our business, lifestyle, income, vehicles, and for me, self worth. Not here more than a week, still unpacking and trying to decide what I will keep and what I will store in my sisters barn. This place is very small, so I keep the basics. Re packing, or never unpacking some of the things I cherish.. they are just things I tell myself.. just things. We get a call....
My middle daughter, has been struggling, with serious health issues, and on top of that her relationship with her long time common law husband, has hit the skids. She has been hospitalized once again, and things are looking very precarious. The medical team that are dealing with her want to have a family meeting, because her "husband", no longer wants to bring her home, and if other arrangements can not be made she will be placed in a "facility"... Everyone turns to me... you're not working right now, maybe you could take her home with you. Promises were made that everyone would do a share in her care, it would not all fall on my shoulders. You see, it is not that I didn't want to care for my child.. I did, I loved her. We had been through so much together over the years with her heart issues and other health issues... we were a team. It is just that now my health was flagging, I had some stuff I was trying to deal with, so I would need help, so she could have the best life possible. So on the premise that I would have a ton of support, plans were made to set up all that would be needed to accommodate her, here in the "bat cave".. cramped quarters at best. The Dr.s involved felt she would be lucky to have another year to live. Palliative care teams were contacted, VON nurses were scheduled, a local GP was contacted and had agreed to take on her complicated case. Meetings with social service were had. She was on over $1000.00 a month in medications, that we could not afford. I was swimming in a very deep pool of anxiety and fear. I was not sure how I would keep my head above the water, let alone assist in keeping her's there with me.
Three years has past, and even though the promised support was not as forthcoming as promised, and there were many trials and tribulations, (many I will likely deal with later on) my gal lived passed her expected prognoses, even pushing into some phases of feeling good and doing better. It was three very hard years, hard for her, hard for me, hard for my husband. So much emotional turmoil and stress... many 911 calls, more hospital stays, hardships of not having the funds to make the treks back and forth to the hospital to visit with her. My heart ached at not being able to be the kind of support for her I was when I was younger and she was younger, and life was just easier. I struggled quietly with how much I felt I was failing her,failing myself and my husband. I also felt a sense of relief when she was in the hospital that I was getting a short break from the constant care and worry. There is almost nothing scarier than having to go into her room every morning to wake her, and not know if she would be breathing, if she would open her beautiful blue eyes and smile.. with a " morning, mama"... I was grateful for the break from the VON visits, and all that entailed, grateful we could eat what we wanted without feeling guilty. ( She was on a special diet, which we all followed.. it was just easier that way.) She and I struggled with our relationship, as it was hard to find a comfortable spot, where I was a caregiver, and her mother, and most times her only friend. I tried hard to treat her like an adult, encouraging her to make her own choices and decisions. It was not easy.. for either of us, as it was so easy to fall back into the role of her being the child and me being the Mom.. the one could protect her, love her and look after her. Resentment would poke through from both of us. But we both knew we were a team. "Birds on a wire".. we called ourselves. Because I could not be with her when she was hospitalized, we would talk daily, sometimes several times a day on the phone.
Six months ago, July 1st evening, she got up for a pee, and I glanced up at her.. ( I always was monitoring, ever the caretaker).. I knew she was very very ill... we called 911 for her for the last time. She was taken to the local hospital, and then sent off to her specialists in Halifax. Another call for a family meeting.. her care had reached the stage where I just could not do it anymore. I just was not strong enough to do it any more. She and I had many conversations, and then with the medical community on board, it was decided she would take up residence in the local hospital in a Palliative care room. It was felt she would not likely live more than 3 or 4 months, and there was nothing more medically that could be done to help her failing heart. On Nov. 18 th Becky took her last breath as I held her, comforted her, supported her as she died. Seeing the life leave those beautiful blue eyes, was the hardest thing I have ever done. I re live it every day.. I cry every day... I have cried every day since she had to move into the hospital on a permanent bases. I miss her, she supported me as much as I supported her. I miss those blue eyes, I miss her saying " its okay mama", when we both knew it wasn't.. but when she said it I could almost believe it. When ever she was very sick, her meal of choice, her comfort food, was grilled cheese sandwiches and Tomato soup. She ate it everyday in the hospital.
Such a complicated relationship between a mother and daughter, with such a complicated heart. I now have to redefine who I am, where I go from here and how. I feel too wounded, to move. Frozen on the spot. I'll delve into this more another time. No one sees my tears, I show now an empty smile.
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