16 years ago...

Ever notice how many of my blog entries have a number in the title? I just noticed it....interesting isn't it?

Anyway, I have thought a lot about my mother lately. Not that she is ever completely out of my mind, just not at the front of or in all thoughts. It is also interesting how time really does make things easier and how some memories do not come as easily as others. I remember, on a night like tonight, sitting on the den floor watching TV. My back was propped up against the couch (very ugly couch). My mom had returned to Saraland from MD Anderson Hospital in Houston. She had been home for a few weeks at this time. She returned knowing that she was at the end of her journey here on earth. The doctors had told her that they could continue experimental drugs, but due to the damage already done, she would most likely not survive the additional rounds of treatment. She made the decision to come home to die there, surrounded by her family. She came home in the middle of October and for the following weeks, made preparations to die. She had us go through all of her things, bag up clothes for Goodwill/Salvation Army, things to give back to people who had given them to her...on and on. We helped her go through her things - her life. After the first couple of weeks, she began to sleep a lot. I would watch her breathe...like I watched my two children breathe as newborn babies. She would have such labored breathing. Little did I know that this wasn't labored at all. Sitting in my den here in Auburn tonight, somehow took me back to the den at 729 Dennis Drive 16 years ago. I was sitting there, back up against the couch, watching TV. Listening to her breathe...sometimes it was gone for a time...I would think, this must be it. Then it would begin again. She was sleeping on the ugly couch covered up on a green/multi-colored afgan. My brother has this afgan. One of his memories of her is being covered up in this blanket on the couch. One lamp was on and the TV, oh, and the Christmas tree lights. Just like in my den tonight - except the TV isn't on. She had us put the tree up early that year. We always put it up the Saturday after Thanksgiving, but not in 1992.

Thanksgiving was just around the corner....we had dinner at my unlce's house. Uncle Ronnie & his wife, Judy were hosting all of us that year. Me, my sister & brother went...I think my dad stayed at home with my mom and her family that day. It was the first time that I ate deep fried turkey. I remember that it was good. So many details of that day that I remember...interesting the things I remember. The weekend of Thanksgiving would be her last weekend with us.

She was rushed to the hospital in excruciating pain. We found out at the hospital that she was having mini strokes. I have never researched it, but I assume this happens when there are no more red blood cells in your blood - very little oxygen being carried throughout your body. That is jut my layman's interpretation of what I saw happening. What transpired over the next day was the most painful days of my life. Others have died since, but nothing as painful as what I watched happen. Before she went into a coma, she verbalized in deep sadness that she was leaving her baby. I have never felt that she wasn't acknowledging the fact she was leaving me (19) and my sister (22). It was so powerful her pain of leaving her 12 year old. I can not imagine knowing that is happening and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. That was a hard night. I honestly thought when I left the hospital room that night, I wouldn't see her alive again. He never saw her alive again. Kyle didn't make it to the hospital before she died. I think she wanted it that way...

She died the next day, November 30, 1992. After truly labored breathing, she went to sleep, very peaceful sleep. There are days I still can't believe she is gone - she doesn't know my children, she doesn't know me as a wife or mom; she left only knowing me as her daughter and sister to her other children. On days like today, when I sit in my den and it takes me back to my final days with her, I miss her terribly. I have to remember the days we had with her...I have to share her with my children. They are very interested in her and still try to figure out why she isn't here. Death is a hard thing to explain to a now 6 and 3 year old.

I didn't write this to make others sad...really, I didn't. I just needed to write this. So many more details that could be added to this story. Some years the anniversary of her death goes by and around December 10th, I realize that the 30th has passed and the 3rd too (the day we buried her). Other times, like this year, it feels a lot like it did 16 years ago...not sure why, but it is very real to me this year. Thanks for letting me share this part of me.