My relationship with my Mother wasn’t the closest. I don’t feel guilty about this. I feel sad on occasion but not guilt. The relationship was the way it was because of things that were about her and some about me. The choices we each made.
I love(d) my mother and she love(d) me. We were two very different personalities with different views. The mother I knew as a child was the one that protected her children on late nights from a raging alcoholic, worked physically hard, didn’t come to many of our school function and could make homecooked meals that would make you think you must have died and gone to heaven. I didn’t know her before 1970 so I presume she was the upbeat fun gal that I recall after my parent’s divorce and before she obtained a back injury.
I missed my mother’s phone call the night she had her heart attack. I was the third one she called. (I did call back and didn’t speak to her but the EMT). I didn’t go see her for more than a week prior to that night. My life was too busy I thought. I had text but not called or stopped by. Due to my choices I could sit here in my guilt, but I am not going to do that. Like I stated before, we both made choices in our lives that were good and bad.
My mother was the type of person that would absolutely not do anything she didn’t want to. Even if it was for her own good. So,I made a choice a few years ago that my mother makes her own choices and no one can change her mind. If you knew Frona, you know this is true. I decided that I wold offer what I could, give her my view, and if she chooses to take my help I would gladly give it. But if she chooses not to, then that’s ok too. Because SHE made the choice. Let me say it again here, I love my Mother.
My mother’s identity was always tied to being strong and working physically hard, the other part of it was her upbeat fun, loud way. Everyone knew when Frona entered the room, until recent years that is. So when that failed her (due to back injury and various other medical issues) it bothered her and hurt her.
Her death was not a “go to sleep” type of way. She endured some pain and the view from her bedside hopefully hurt her kids more than she. The pain she felt in that ER and in her home that night had to be the worst pain ever my guess. She tried to fight it as she did a great many things in life. It was the first and only time in my life I have ever witnessed my Mother not able to endure what was challenging her. It hurt me emotionally and physically to see her in that state.
Standing next to her bed as she died a few days later was one of the most difficult experiences I have ever been given. That’s what it was, an experience in my life, and with each of those I grow and learn and so forth.
I could sit here and feel guilty for many reasons but I’d rather focus on the good of what came of her dying. And yes there is some good.
- No more pain for her.
- Because she was a baptized child of God I know when Jesus returns where she will raise to and be united with me some day.
- Giving and receiving love from my siblings I have never felt on that level ever in my life.
- Sharing with my siblings something that only us four will ever know.
I will take the good with the bad and come out a stronger more loving person I hope. I will take skills my mother gave me and incorporate them into a better version of me.
Death is not pretty and it is not easy and the grief visits you often. I will not lie, but I will not feel guilt either.
Grace is a gift,
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