Bramble

 

This is the current state of my brain.  A massive bramble, thoughts scattered, yet all tied into one gigantic mess. Mom is gone. She passed away on Friday, 2 July 2021, in the early morning hours.  In her last months of living she was visited by many family members and in the end, she was surrounded by peace and love.  What more could one want?

Well. I want her here. I, we, wanted more time with her in our home. I want more walks with her, more laughs with her. I want more morning coffee time with her. I just want her. Perhaps selfish, but very natural. When Mom moved in with Terry and I, we really thought she would be with us for many years. She was healthy, a country girl, a coalminer's daughter (as she so proudly reminded us) of good stock. Yes, dementia was beginning to rear its ugly head, but many days she was alert and aware. In April I wrote "How fortunate are we to share her final years. To bring her joy, contentment, security, and love. We are blessed beyond measure."  Little did we know our time with her was shorter than we ever anticipated. Mom died one month to the day hospice was called. 

The house is quiet without her presence. Miss Marplestein misses her buddy. Henley misses his protectee. Both were her constant companions. The morning she died, both were on her bed to say their goodbyes. They knew she was gone. And I know Mom was looking down, loving them and saying 'thank you and farewell'. 

The morning Dad died, I was blessed to have had time with him. I held his hand and sang How Great Thou Art. I was also blessed to have time with Mom. I awoke early morning, around 1am, with the sense I should go to her. My usual routine was to check on Mom 2-3 times a night. When I would enter her room she would wake and say 'I knew you were going to come'. My heart wants to believe she said the same thing on that last morning. I sat by the bed. I held her hand and just watched her breathe. I fell asleep. When I woke, she was gone. 

I fear I am rambling. Her death is bittersweet. Am I happy for her. Of course. I am happy she is now reunited with the love of her life. I am happy she did not suffer, was not in physical pain. And I am happy the Lord called her home before the dementia claimed her completely. Happy for her. Not for me. Call me selfish. I don't want to walk Henly alone. I want to hear 'the man of the house is home!'. I want to hear her laugh when I call her Carmelly, or when I sing and dance. I just want her here. 

Grief is tiresome. Grief has its own way of manifesting itself. Grief is a jumble of emotions all mixed together. Currently I am wandering the misty flats, taking one day at a time. But through the mist, through the convoluted knot that is my brain, my husband's hand grasps mine and I know I am not alone. Together we grieve. Together we remember. Together we cry, and together we laugh. With his comfort and that of my family, friends, and 'babies', perhaps the bramble will slowly be cleared away.

And Mom, Josephine is still hanging in her special place. Thank you for the rainbow, ladybug, and the cross-penny. I miss you. 💗