Thank you for all the love and caring you have all shared with me today, it means so much to me.
I came across these lovely words which I wanted to share back with you all:
When we lose someone we love
We must learn NOT to live without them
BUT to live with the LOVE
They left behind…
So… today is not going to be a sad day, it is a celebration of my dad’s life and all that he is and to simply tell him how blessed I am having had him in my life for 58 years and that I was proud to call him “Dad” and he is and always will be irreplaceable.
Dad loved a pint and a nice meal on his birthday and being with his family so in true form (albeit not a complete family), my friend and I are going on a nice walk and then to the pub to have a pint with him (well a glass of wine as I can’t drink beer)! This is what he would have liked and then when I get back and hopefully it is a tad warmer, I will sit and have a chat with him on our bench.
Enjoy your Sunday everyone, whatever you are doing and keep that love and light for your parents burning brightly in your hearts
Dear Ann
Your situation is indeed very different from mine and I am concerned when you say the cracks are starting to show. In the last 18 months before my mum died I was in a very bad way. I wanted to do everything I could for mum and looking back on it it was the wrong thing to do. I started getting really, really snappy and bad-tempered with her and I am totally ashamed of myself now. I also started developing quite a few physical symptoms of stress myself. Eventually six months before mum died my GP prescribed Citalopram for me which is for anxiety/depression. This transformed me and seemed to give me my old mental and emotional elasticity back. It means the last six months I had with mum were loving good ones. However, how nasty and bullying I was in that year before I was put on the medication haunts me. I know I made my mum feel like a real burden.
I tell you this because if the cracks are starting to show - and they are bound to me - don’t let things get to the point where you are taking it out on your mum, husband or son. My circumstances in terms of having support from brilliant sisters and all of us being retired were totally different from yours. Given what you are having to manage, you are an absolute hero as far as I’m concerned. Just please take note of my experience. There are days I feel a total shit when I look back on what I was like.
Love
Marigold
XXX
Well I am not going to lie, today was so very, very hard. It was loving, appropriate and fitting to dad and a nice celebration of his life but I felt like an alien from out of space! All day my head kept saying where are you dad?
We raised a glass to dad to toast his birthday but I wanted to chuck the glass at the wall because this is so horribly unreal… I got over myself fairly quickly and gave myself a talking to but the reality is harsher than you can ever imagine! This is going to take time and there was me thinking I was in control of my thoughts and feelings!
In theory I am right, in reality I am way off the mark! I wanted to celebrate my dad’s life but his death is a big elephant in the room and is not just going to fade into the background. Lesson learnt. I am going to have to learn to grieve gracefully because this isn’t going to be nice, spiritual, celebratory or anything else! It is raw, painful, despairing and downright awful. I am not brave, strong, realistic or anything else. I am a 58 year old child who wants her dad to make it all better and go away. I want him to hug me and tell me I am doing well, I want him to tell me off for being an emotional mess but most of all I want his protection, wisdom and security that nobody else can give me.
I guess we have to accept and live with the fact that loving means we feel the pain of that loss and words of wisdom don’t count
I think we do all feel similar to you. The broken heart will never heal fully and we are scarred by the trauma. I can relate to the need to be coping with grief gracefully in ‘public’ but in private it is very different. Please also remember that this is very early days and that it does improve.
You are brave, strong and realistic. You are finding your way painfully along the grief path and it is horrible. I have found myself feeling more like a child than an adult and the desire/need to have Mum here is so real it still physically hurts when I think about it.
I understand your desire for your dad’s protection and love as there is nothing that can replace that. However, he gave you guidance whilst he was here and he built you to be resilient.
Words of wisdom do not bring them back nor do they provide comfort when the rawness is so intense. Our emotions take over and we have to grieve.
I am thinking of you and wishing that I could help. You have honoured your dad today even though it has broken you to do so - he would be very proud of you.
Thank you for your honest words. I do need to be careful as the cracks are leading to feeling resentful and the last thing I want is to feel guilt about taking it out on my mum. I truly believe you must have been a wonderful daughter though and your wisdom probably came from your mum so even if you did lose the plot for a while, your mum would have understood the pressure you were under so please don’t be hard on yourself.
The key for me seems to be somehow working out how to have more time off so that is what I will focus on this week. Oh, and my old favourite plan, one day at a time…
It feels like riding a bike with stabilisers and when they are taken away your mum or dad are there to guide you and make you feel secure and safe and move you forward whilst holding your hand. At 58 I should be at Formula 1 stage but have reverted back to my first bike with stabilisers. I have the wisdom and knowledge but I need those loving hands to guide me and they are no longer there so my instinct is to fall off. I am not even making sense now but I appreciate you all riding alongside me until I am safe and out of danger xxxx
It’s just like our life has had the manual thrown away. We know it but nobody to read it to us anymore. I will be ok tomorrow hopefully and will regain my strength xxx
Hi All,
Well firstly Marigold, what you wrote at the bottom of your message really hit me too but also made me smile which I hope you don’t mind but when you said ‘you look back at what a total shit you were at times’ well it just made me smile as I can totally get it as I think the same yet I know Mum forgave me s I’m sure yours did too but seeing you write it made me think of my mum actually saying it to me! That’s exactly what and how she would say it! Thank you for raising a smile. I think she did tell me that a few times!!
Well Ann, I can say that my Mum wanted to be in hospital when the time came as she knew it would be the best place for her as her side effect from the kidney failure was a constant build up of fluid and even the hospice said she’d be better off in the hospital. I didn’t feel great about any of it but I wasn’t sure bearing in mind how with it she was until the last few days that being in a hospice environment would have been good for her. We were lucky as they moved Mum into the plastic surgery ward which was on the top floor of the hospital so much quieter than the other floors and what is crucial is that she had her own room. If sge’d Have been put on the ward in a bay I don’t think I’d gave been very pleased at all as there wouldn’t have been any privacy. The key of your Mum goes into hospital is getting a private room. One way of getting Is to say that she’s had diarrhoea (she’d def get her own room then as they want to keep anyone with that away from other patients). Apologies all for even speaking like this and I know it’s tertible that I’m even suggesting this but if and when the time comes and she’s on a normal ward, I couldn’t imagine it and the lack of privacy at such a private time. It was frustrating enough in the private room as the only negative I’d say is that they didn’t put a note on the door to stop the tea trolley and food orders coming in. During her last 24hrs they came in with plates of food or tried to talk to her and I just wanted them to get lost! One truce to ask her what she wanted for tea, yet he could see she was unresponsive. But the nursing team were amazing and I couldn’t have wished for her to have passed anywhere else with any nicer people. They gave her dignity & me so much support even when the time cane and I became hysterical, the nurses just grabbed me and hugged me. Mum originally said she wanted to be at home but when the fluid kept building up she decided the hospital as her doctors survey were atrocious. So it all depends on the level of support you gave with the care team, if they’re reliable, what you think your Mum would want and what works for you. I would never suggest anything as it all depends on so many things but you’ll work out what’s right for you or that decision may be taken out if your hands if she gets taken into hospital beforehand but whatever happens please believe me when I say somehow you will cope. I’m 39 so only a big younger and the week before Mum died she told me that a doctor at the hospital said she needed to be moved to a hospice, well I went to the bathroom, collapsed on the floor as I knew this really was the end and the anticipatory grief was so unbearable. I just cried, sobbed abd thought everything I’ve been dreading for two years me and Mum were now going to have to face. She made such a brave choice not to have dialysis (there was really no choice though as we were told it would be unlikely to work) and to see her have to go through it has made me realise what a truly amazing person she was - she struggled for two years just so I could have her here as long as possible. Breaks my heart. But I’ll nevef forget her face when they took her out of the house on the stretcher…she gave it the once over like she knew she wouldn’t be going back. Except she did go back but not in the way i wanted. It’s so tough for you but you’re clearly doing her proud. Don’t be scared if she goes into hospital - maybe look at if that they have everything to make her as peaceful as possible. Mine went on a syringe drive but she still had lots of terminal twitching which I found very hard to watch. Sending you hugs xx
Hi Lyn,
Well five getting through today, another first. Ive got mother day next. Joy not. Glad you had time with a friend too & had a good chat to him on the bench. Lovely idea. It’s so much in ten weeks. I took down my sympathy cards today but felt so wrong, like I’m no longer bothered and just want to move on but I don’t want to do that. I’ll keep the ones she gave me up for life. Also disposed of last bits of funeral flowers. Again it feels wrong to get rid of it. Have got some of the roses dried and saved.
Have any of you ever read the poem ‘train of life’ if not you should it’s so appropriate and I adapted it and read it out at mums funeral. So so true the wording.
Hi Lucy
It was so good to read this and know that you could be a shit too. Not something I’m proud of but at least I know I’m not the only one.
My poor mum suffered dreadful terminal agitation in that last week and got virtually no sleep at all even after the syringe driver went in. It has helped me to know that you too had to witness some harrowing terminal symptoms. Having only seen television deaths before, this was something I had been totally unprepared for.