What a year it's been

A year ago today, we were calling people all over the country to let them know my mom had died in the night. It was at 12:20 a.m., and I was sitting in the living room with her in the hospital bed we'd brought in. It was in the exact place we'd put the hospital bed when we brought Dad home to die. That kind of freaked me out and comforted me all at the same time.

I was giving mom little drops of water mixed with morphine, rubbing her arm and wiping her brow. I was so scared. Jack was asleep upstairs, Bill was nearby in the bedroom, and Phil had gone home.

I kept asking her what she wanted. Should I call 911? I knew she wouldn't have wanted that, and what could paramedics have done, anyway! I guess I just wanted someone with some medical knowledge to tell me it was OK. That what I was doing was OK. That this was what it was like to watch someone you've loved your whole life, die.

Why did it feel like Dad's passing was so different? I was the one who noticed his breathing suddenly became raspy and gulping while everyone else talked. I called out--and mom and Aunt Bev and some friends who were there rushed over, and cheered him on to heaven as we cried and cried.

Maybe that's it. There was no crowd. No group of loved ones to hold on to. It was just me feeling woefully inadequate and small and alone.

It seemed like maybe she suffered a heart attack. It was not easy to watch. I cried out for Bill and when he came out of the bedroom, told him to call Phil. Then, even though I was right there with her, I began yelling to Mom, telling her to go find Daddy & Jesus. I guess I wanted to make sure she heard me! Then she finally took her last breath, and was gone.

I miss her so much. There is so much I want to tell her! About the power being out for FOUR frigging days. About Christmas, and how wonderful it was. I want to show her pictures of Coal, and hear her tell me how svelte she looks. I wish I could tell her the details of our trip to Italy next year for Bill's 50th birthday. How great Jack is doing in school.

I still ache so deeply for her. But it has gotten better with time. Today is just really, really hard.