Letting Mom Go.

Thursday, May 14, 2009
It was a year ago today that my mother died. I can’t help but remember and feel the loss all over again. A friend at work who also lost his mother told me that the pain doesn’t go away, it just spreads thinner as time goes by. I miss her and I regret that I didn’t take more time with her before she went. I was busy with school, family, and work (lot’s of it). I also didn’t realize how soon she would be gone. She went quickly after several years of suffering. Long story short, it was cancer. Breast cancer that she first found in 1992, then bone cancer, colon cancer, failing kidneys, stomach problems, she had it all. I could write pages and pages of gory details of how and why she died. This does little but make me upset about the medical care that she received (or didn't receive). She had had all the Chemo-therapy that he body could take, and there was nothing more possible to cure her.

I accept the fact that she was going to die and that we were lucky to have her as long as we did. She worked hard, nearly 60 hours per week until 4 months before her death. During her sharp four month decline, my prayers went from praying that she would get well, to praying that she would not suffer more.

That night, I sat in front of the hospital, waiting. I was afraid to go in. It was as if I thought that it would only be real if I went inside. Until then, I didn’t know. When I arrived at the floor where she was, three doctors and two of my mom’s friends met me in the waiting room. They described the situation and told me that I needed to decide whether they should operate or let her go. Operating would have been heroic, invasive, risky, and would probably cause more suffering in the long run if she lived through it. I called my wife to discuss the options with her. When I told her that I thought we should let my mom go, the tears flooded my eyes. I cried, as I never had before and never have since. It was so painful. I missed her and felt as if my heart had been torn out. I went back to tell the doctors to keep her comfortable (i.e. lots of morphine) and that we decided to let her go. They all heaved a visible sigh of relief, and told me that I had done a brave and merciful thing. I did not feel brave or merciful. I just remembered what my mother had asked me to do if I ever had to make such a decision. She had suffered enough.

I went to the room where she laid. She did not look like herself. A machine was breathing for her and all I could hear was her short gasps as her body reflexively let the air out like hiccups. I called for another elder of our Church. We laid hands on her head to give her a blessing, like I had done many times before, but I could not say the words that I would normally say. I told her that while most blessings are to heal the sick, this one was to say goodbye. I told her that I could not have asked for a better mom. I told her that she was free to go, that there would be people on the other side to guide her. I told her that she was surrounded by people who love her, more on the other side than on this side, not that there aren't many here. I told her not to worry about me and Debera or the kids and that that her family here would be fine. She has the two grandkids and maybe more. (My third son was born last Friday 5/8). This may not have been a typical blessing, telling someone that it’s okay to die, but it seemed like the right thing to do.

I still feel a great loss in my life. I never have regretted letting her go, but I do regret the time that I was not able to visit with her. I feel grateful for the mother that she was to me. I think that she approached the daunting task of raising a headstrong son like myself in a wise and balanced way. She was always willing to talk and to listen to me. I regret that I didn’t involve myself more in her care, that I was too busy with things that don't matter in the long run, and that I didn’t help her more. I don’t think that it would have changed the outcome, but I would have a clear conscience. I miss talking with her most of all.

An Old Classic

I remember when Hardware Wars was done and how funny it was then. I recently found it online.

Hardware Wars

I showed this to my wife and kids today and we practically fell out of our seats laughing.