Greetings to all, I hope you are all in good health. On the 16th of January 2021, we unfortunately experienced the loss of our dear Mother at the relatively young age of 58.
Allow me to provide a brief background about myself: I am a 39-year-old man, happily married with two beautiful daughters aged 2 and 7. I have one older brother and two younger brothers, and I have resided in Bristol for my entire life. Throughout my upbringing, I had a wonderful relationship with my Mum. When my first child was born, Mum was overjoyed because she finally had a granddaughter, something she had always wished for despite ending up with four sons. In addition to being a dedicated mother and wife, Mum worked as a carer at the local care home. She was an incredibly hardworking person. However, beneath her role as an exceptional mother and grandmother, she carried a deep sense of sadness. Her relationship with my Dad was constantly in flux, and I believe she longed for a zestful life that she rarely experienced. In my teenage years, I began to realize that Mum used alcohol to mask her sadness. Initially, I believed she simply enjoyed the occasional drink while watching television. But as I grew older, I observed her increasing alcohol consumption to the point where she would start slurring her words and eventually fall asleep by 8 o’clock each night. Things progressively worsened, and the constant arguments due to Mum’s inebriation created a toxic and tense atmosphere at home. This unfortunate situation persisted for many years, during which Mum ate very little and her relationship with my father deteriorated. I made numerous attempts to seek help for her, but she insisted she didn’t have a problem. I also endeavored to uncover the root cause of her unhappiness, which she consistently attributed to my Dad. However, whenever my Dad considered leaving to prevent her drinking and make her happy, she would abruptly change her mind and resist his departure. The relationship between them was undeniably toxic, and my brothers and I were caught in the middle. In the latter years of Mum’s life, she began experiencing regular bouts of ill health, specifically liver cirrhosis, which eventually resulted in hospitalization. Although Mum and Dad’s relationship was virtually over, they still lived under the same roof. I had already moved out and started my own family, but my youngest brother remained at home amidst the turmoil. Mum resided in the small box room, while Dad occupied the main bedroom. This arrangement exacerbated Mum’s isolation and escalated her alcohol consumption, while Dad found solace in a newfound lease on life through activities like going to the gym and buying new clothes. Unfortunately, Mum interpreted his transformation as an attempt to impress new partners.
To summarize this lengthy narrative, on New Year’s Eve 2021, Mum embarked on a final drinking spree. It became apparent that she had made the decision to end her life. She consumed an excessive amount of alcohol, prompting Dad to call for an ambulance. Mum was semiconscious but refused to accompany the paramedic. Desperate, Dad called me, and I pleaded with Mum to go with the ambulance, which she eventually agreed to. She was swiftly transported to the hospital and spent several days there alone, with none of us allowed to visit due to the pandemic. I did manage to deliver get well soon cards and photos, but I couldn’t see her face to face. I was devastated that I didn’t have the opportunity to see her while she was still aware and conscious before her passing. Approximately a week later, we received news that Mum was scheduled for physiotherapy. We naively perceived this as a positive development, believing she was miraculously recovering. However, a couple of days later, I received a heart-wrenching phone call from a nurse, warning me to brace myself for the worst. This came as a shock, as just two days prior, she was receiving physiotherapy. The subsequent day, I received another devastating call informing me that Mum was dying. I wept uncontrollably. I had to break the news to my Dad and brother, and that night we went to the hospital to bid our final farewells. We were all overwhelmed by shock and sorrow. Upon arrival, we were instructed to wear masks, overalls, and gloves. Mum was still alive, confined to an end-of-life ward, her only lifeline being oxygen. For those who have not experienced visiting a loved one in such a ward, allow me to emphasize the horror: witnessing your cherished family member struggle for each breath, with parched lips, a high temperature, and moments of unconsciousness. For me, it was an unparalleled ordeal. I do not share this tale to frighten anyone, but in my opinion, assisted dying should be an option when there is no hope. I watched my Mum suffer for nearly three nights, fully aware of our presence, fighting vehemently to stay alive as her body deteriorated. My three brothers, my Dad, and I refused to leave her side until her last breath. Throughout our time there, we took turns cooling her down, moistening her lips, and simply speaking to her, reassuring her that everything would be okay. There were moments when I had to leave the room because I couldn’t bear listening to my Mum’s struggle to breathe. On the 16th of January 2021, at 11:11, Mum took her final breath. She waited until we had all exited the room before the nurse relayed the message that she had passed. I understand that this account is rather lengthy, but I wanted to provide everyone with a comprehensive understanding of the entire process and the reason behind my ongoing difficulty in accepting my Mum’s passing. I am burdened with guilt, believing I could have done more to help her. Should I have insisted that the doctors continue attempting to heal her considering her fervent fight to stay alive? If our positions were reversed, Mum would have fought fiercely to her last breath to keep me alive. Could I have done more to alleviate her unhappiness regarding my father? Should I have taken additional measures to prevent her excessive drinking? Being present in the room as my Mum passed away will haunt me for the remainder of my life. While I find solace in my own immediate family and manage to cope, I do not believe I will ever truly find a way to cope with the profound loss of my Mum. Thank you for taking the time to read my story, and to those who may be experiencing a similar situation, I send my love and strength, assuring you that you will find a way to endure.
. Sending hugs of support.