9/10/2003 This was the start of my bedside stay with my Mom the last day and 1/2 of her life. I was mad at my sister because she came over from Cinn. to sit by her bed. She had really not paid too much attention to my Mom in years, and often really hurt my Mom's feelings, but now, she wanted to be there for her death. I think she needed to be there and I think she was actually more sad about the whole thing, in a way, then I was. I was devistated mind you, but I really had no regrets. I had said and done most of what I needed to do. My Mom knew that I loved her and my actions had proven that love time and again, over the years. My sister, on the other hand, was remorseful that she had missed so much. Now, that time was gone. She kept holding my Mom's hand and saying sweet things to her and I wanted to smack her and say, "Where were all these nice things all these years, when Mom missed you and just wanted a little attention'"? I had to bite my tongue and not say anything. I did feel that she was horning in on my special time with my Mom and I wanted to be there for her as she passed from this world to the next. I was selfish, I know. But, I did not want her with me. I am glad, now six years later, that she was there. There are so many things I have done in my life, alone. I will get into my lonely marriage later, but I am glad I was not alone, when my Mother died. We both held her hand and recited the 23rd psalm. Sounds like a movie. We finished, she took her last breaths, and she was gone. It was weird. The woman that had brought me into this world, I had help take out of this world. It seemed appropriate that both her children were there.

Six years ago today, was the last time I heard my Mom's voice, well, I talked with her. She was talking in the morning, by the time I got back to the hospital, from taking Fritz to kindergarten, she was in a comma. She said good-bye to my cousins, who visited and spoke with my sister, but was not able to communicate, once I got back. I was not ready to end our conversations. I still had so much to tell her and so much to learn from her. The thirty nine years were wonderful, but they were not enough. The one comfort I had, was that I had an opportunity to say good-bye. When people die in an accident, or suddenly, there is no time to say your good-byes. When someone is ill, even for a brief time. Their is some closure, because you have time to process the fact that they are leaving this planet and will not be with you anymore, on a physical level. It is a weird thing to go through, and you really do go through many emotions. I was mad, I was not accepting. I said "I would NOT be putting her body in the ground. The hands that kept me healthy and stroked my forehead when I was sick. The hands that worked so hard for so many years to provide me all the things I wanted, but did not necessarily need. My Mom had always been so generous, how was I going to let them put her in a box. I will back track next time to before she went into the comma... just wanted to rmember the last day, I heard her voice and said, "good-bye"

I have NOT been keeping up, not that anyone has noticed or cared, for that matter. My dear friend, Kim, lost her Mom, last week. She had had a heart transplant 16 years ago, when she was 63. That is rather un-heard of. She was traveling and if had been at home in Indy, would have been too old to be considered for the transplant. She happened to be where she qualified. I forget how long she waited out of town, to receive her new heart, but it took a while. I remember that was a hard time on their family and she had a very long recovery. Sometimes, transplant patients do through a rough time dealing with all that has happened and they are so tired, they wish they had just died. I think she experienced a bit of that. She was never the same, energy wise, but she considered all those 16 years as BONUS years to spend with family. She got to know two beautiful grandsons, who happen to be autistic, so she was also a great help, physically and emotionally to my friend, over the years. Her Mom was her best friend, much like my Mom, was mine. The first few weeks, after someone that close dies, it is devistating. You feel like it is surreal... even if they have been ill. The reality that they are REALLY gone, and you will never, in this lifetime, see them or talk to them, again... is overwhelming , to say the least. I used to ache to call my Mom. Just to hear her voice and talk. I would sit by the phone and think about picking it up to ring her. Knowing that was impossible, it was weird. I actually was mad, the first birthday, that went by, and she did not call to sing. I know that sounds irrational, but you just cannot believe that they are GONE. Really gone. And it is so suddent, like a flower being plucked from the ground. One minute you are here, heart beating, breathing, contributing to society in various ways, and the next, nothing. Dishes don't matter. Bills don't matter. You will never consume anything again... you need NOTHING. You take nothing with you. All this material "crap" we surround ourselves with, and define ourselves with, mean absolutely NOTHING. It is a bit overwhelming to come to that realization. And you miss that person so much, it hurts, deep in your soul. I think time helps, but I still miss my Mom to the point I ache. It will be six years on 9/12 and not a day goes by that I do not think of her fondly.