Saturday, April 3, 2010

An Attempt...

On April 17th of the year 2009 my life was turned completely upside down... And somehow, almost exactly one year later and this life I've been attempting to struggle through is still in shambles.

April 17th, 2009: the worst thing that could possibly happen to me, the death of my mother. She had been sick for a few weeks prior, with what she thought was only a cold. The stubborn woman that she was would go to work the first day she felt somewhat better, only to be back home in bed a few hours later. This went of for a while... so long in fact that it prompted my aunt to stop by and haul her to the hospital.. on April 17th, 2009. I will never forget that day. I woke up sometime in the morning, mom was lying in bed with what felt like gas pains in her chest/stomach area. I helped her the best I could, offered her water and tums and gravol. I had a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something wasn't right. She had never been sick like that ever before and definitely not for as long. When I left for work, I hugged her and told her I loved her. I wanted to stay home but I knew my aunt would be by soon and she'd make sure that mom went to the doctors. As worried as I was about her I told myself she'd be okay.... you know, because doctors make people better. Cut to around 6pm, my last cashier is about to leave and all I remember was seeing Adrian walking towards me with an expression of fear and sadness. "Your mom's in the hospital, she had a heart attack" ...... I couldn't think straight, I couldn't breathe... I couldn't believe what was happening. I left work in a blur and we rushed to the hospital. And we waited.... for hours. When I finally saw my aunt, the nurses with her were escorting us into a room where I thought I'd see mom. It was empty, and right then I knew. "the doctors did everything they could..."

My mom had had a heart attack in her sleep the night of the 16th, and the gas pains were actually pains of the heart attack. She had another one in the hospital on the night of the 17th... around the exact same time Adrian had come into my work. For the whole time we sat in the waiting room I had hope that she was okay... not better, but okay... you know, alive. She had an ulcer, one so bad that the doctors couldn't give her the medication she needed to keep her alive... because apparently it still would have killed her.

This is the first time since having to explain to family how she died, that I've gone through the events of that day. Really, this is the first time I've said much about it ...ever.

Now something about my aunt. About two years prior to the passing of my mom, my mom's brother (my aunt's husband) had passed away. From what I remember he had an arrhythmia, (I think) that caused his heart to beat too fast for the rest of his body to keep up with. This was a huge shock to my whole family... he was the youngest of 4 ( my mom was the oldest). I truly believe, even though it's not like me to be a believer, that the spirit of my uncle had sent my aunt to my mom on that day. She just happened to be in town that day, out of all the days in the year. And I will never be able to express how grateful I am that she was here for my mom on that day. I'm grateful to her for being there so my mom didn't have to go through it alone.

Everyone told me it would get easier... easier to cope with the shock, cope with the lose, cope with the fact that the woman I saw every single day no longer existed in my physical life. I'm still waiting for it to get easier....I don't know if it ever will get easier to deal, or if the pain just gets more bearable . Honestly, there's only two reasons why I get out of bed every morning: 1. if Auntie Romi and Logan and Janelle could do it, so can I. 2. Adrian. He is my reason for finding the good in every day.... it's definitely hard, especially when I can't stop being sad. But for him, I put a smile on my face and go about my daily business. He keeps me together, and lets me fall apart when I need to. I know in my heart that my mom was okay with letting go of this world because she knew that I was in safe, good, gentle and capable hands.

We spread her ashes into the ocean at MacKenzie Beach in Tofino... That's why I always want to go back there.

Ever since that worst day of my life... things haven't been the same:

We changed the apartment around about 5 times before settling for it's current design. But it still feels too much like mom and not enough like us.

I've had to become craftier in the kitchen... my mom used to cook all the dinners.

Money has been super tight, especially since Adrian lost his job and is now a starving artist ..... starving for the art of photography.

I gained so much more weight, I'm the heaviest I've ever been.... we both are.

Motivation runs slowly through these walls... Although, I'm thankful for Adrian's new make-up artist partner, together they are creating new and amazing works of art.

Our car broke down and we can't afford to fix it... but we still have to pay for it and keep it insured... fucking financers.

Although I can't express it to my managers at work.... I'm angry with them for asking me to come back to work a week and a half after my mom's passing. Although I had no choice, I needed the money. And that anger keeps me from enjoying my job like I did when I first started.

Everyone wants money from us/me/him, which we/I/he don't/doesn't have to give. My biggest worry is that our debts will continue to make our lives miserable... everywhere I turn someone is asking for money.

No matter how hard I try, I want to feel my mom's spirit, but I can't. I am constantly wondering where she went when she passed. I'd really like to know. The only comfort is that her ashes went into the ocean, like she wanted.

Shambles, I tell you... shambles.

But I've got love and a love, and I know that will get me through this...and I'm lucky to have the friends and family that I have.

Now that I'm actually able to get passed the "on April 17th, 2009 my mom passed away" part of every blog I try to write, I think I will be blogging more. It really is kind of therapeutic in a way.

Thanks for listening... or reading, I suppose.