Wednesday, September 21, 2016

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Today would have been my mom's 70th birthday.  As I sit here and reflect, there are so many things I wish I had done differently.  I wish I could have been a better daughter.  I wish I could have changed some of the decisions I made.  However, I realize that had I done that, I probably would not be the same person I am today.  Some of those changes were necessary for me to grow and learn to live on my own.

I realize that it has been about six and half years since my mother passed away.  I still message her from time to time on Yahoo.  I am not even sure how I would react if I actually got a message in return.  However, I feel it is the one way where I can "talk" to her and tell her what is going on in life along with apologizing for the things I did wrong.

That whole year before she died was some of the darkest days I had ever lived.  I experienced a woman who was not my mom due to all of the medications in her system.  I felt the anguish of not being able to relieve her pain when she hurt the most.  The toughest part of it all - the time the hospice nurse told her that she had the most severe type of cancer and she was dying.  I lived through a literal hell the moment that nurse walked out of the house.  

I feel horrible about what happened after that.  I remember that after my mother died, my director at the time, who had gotten pissed a lot that I was not in the office because I was taking care of my mother, tried to say that at least I had the opportunity to say good-bye to my mother.  (Her mother had passed away on the operating table a few years before my mom).  All I could do was look at her and say "I guess if you call what I went through being able to say good-bye - I don't and I don't think that was what she wanted, either."

I learned a lot from the experience.  Being somewhat in a managerial role these days, as long as someone gets their work done, you do what you have to do when it comes to dealing with family issues.  More importantly, let me take the load off of you and hand it to someone else and you do what you need to do.  Work will always be here - I would never make the claim that I am not paying for a glorified babysitter.  In this day and age, none of us expect to have to care for our parents.  However, it happens and we need to be there for them because they were there for us when we were born.  I wish more work places truly understood that.  

I realize that there is FMLA, but the one thing that they do not tell you - you do not get paid.  If  you are dependent upon that paycheck, FMLA is not the answer.  I saved as much vacation time as I possibly could, but even that was not enough.  I feel that more needs to be done for when we need to care for our dying loved ones.  Perhaps, my experience should be written down to promote better opportunities for reasonable help.  It is hell on the care provider.

I wish I could tell my mother how sorry I was for my behavior at times.  I would be so tired and worn down from everything.  It gets pretty tough when you have to do things that make you feel uncomfortable, but you are the one to do it.  Trying to make a woman get out of a car when she won't because she believes that she is killing everyone with her mind - no one trains you for that and how to handle it.  

So, every year, the anniversary of her death, Mother's Day, and her birthday make me so sad.  Before my mother got sick, my parents would have fights on Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve, so I do not even enjoy the holidays anymore.  I mean, I will always love looking at the lights, but I do not celebrate it.  Too much emphasis on gifts and the simple act of giving that is never done properly.  

As always, I always wish my mom a wonderful birthday with hopes that she is happy and laughing.  As I tell my mom's sister, I would imagine that their Aunt Marie made one of her cakes that my mom loved and she and the family she loved are sitting around a kitchen table, drinking coffee, eating cake, laughing and telling jokes.  That is how I best remember her as a child - when she seemed the happiest.

I love you, mom!  I pray that you are still proud of your miracle.  I miss you!

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