Looking Up

A Bad Day of Grief

Looking Up

Update to this post:  Before you read this, know that I did get through the day.  And the next and the next and so on.  I know this will happen again.  I had to remind myself that I’m allowed to feel grief and that it will come back at unexpected moments.  It’s okay.  I’m still healthy.  I’m still happy.  I’ll probably always wish things could have been better, and that’s okay too.

I’m having a bad day of grief for my mother.  She died over 20 days in June of 2018.  We were in an interesting relationship where we were basically estranged but we saw each other sometime.  We were just never able to talk civilly about the problems we had.  While she was in rehab for having had a couple of minor strokes, while I was sitting next to her bed, she had a major stroke.  That was the beginning of the 20 days of her death.

What was going on prior to that last stroke, that major blow?  I was disappointing her.  I disappointed her.  The last time she could ever really take note of me, fully cognizant, she was disappointed.  The advantage to no longer having a YouTube channel, to doing this in writing, is that you cannot see me weeping; you cannot see the guilt contorting my face right now.

When she was transported to the emergency room, I didn’t go in the ambulance.  I took my car over because I knew I would be there and I wasn’t going to leave.  When I got there, probably two minutes after her, they wouldn’t let me in.  They wouldn’t let me in because they didn’t know which room she was in and they wouldn’t let me in without a definite place to go.  I stood out there and I begged, “Please let me go back.”  The security guard went and checked and said, “I can’t find her right now.  I don’t know which room she’s in.  I can’t let you in until I know which room she’s in.”

Time went by.

Time went by.

Time went by.  I couldn’t go back there and I didn’t know if she was dying.

Finally, finally, they told me the room and they let me go in.  I ran in and they were working on her and I said, “Mom, I’m so sorry.  They wouldn’t let me in.”  She said, “They wouldn’t let you in, huh?  Why would they not let you in?  They just wouldn’t let you in.”  I said, “No Mom, they wouldn’t let me in.”  She said, “Oh, alright.”  A few minutes later my husband came.  He walked in and my mother said, “My son-in-law is here.”  I said, “I’m here too, Mom.”  She never responded.  The last words my mother ever said to me, because she was never able to talk again, she expressed that she thought I had lied to her.

In three months, it will be two years.  Every time I think of that day and those last few moments, it’s like it’s happening all over again and I just want to die.

I just want to die.

I’m having a bad day.  I’m having a bad day.  I miss my mother today.  I’m so sad that we could never get it together.  I’m so sad that we could never have a real conversation and make ourselves better.  I hope she forgives me.  I have a very close relationship with God.  I know He forgives me.  I know He feels my pain.

I’m just hoping that I get through this day.


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