I thought you were coming home..

I for sure thought you were coming home. When I watched the ambulance load you up and take you away I never for the life of me thought that would be the last time I talked to you in person with you talking back to me. I thought it was just another trip via diesel and that I would be picking you up in few days, maybe a week. Even as covid was raging I still at the moment could’t figure it out in my head. It wasn’t until I was putting together pictures of your grandkids and of you and dad for you to have in your hospital room that it finally hit me. This was either going to be a very long hospital stay or a short one.

I watched a movie tonight about a mother dying from cancer. She was a younger mom with two kids and a husband and one best friend that moves in with them to help them the last 14 months of her life.

You mom didn’t get 14 months. You got two weeks. I was jealous of the fact that this woman and her family got a hospice nurse. Someone to hold their hand and walk them through the end of life. We had no one to hold our hand. We couldn’t really hold each other’s hand because grief formed differently in each of us. This woman was also granted the gift of time to write letters to her children that they could open on the milestones of their lives. I don’t have that. My brother and sisters don’t have that. What I have is a foreboding text that you sent to me while you were still coherent in the hospital. You wrote that you wanted my to live my life true to myself, van life and traveling. That you and dad would be okay. You made me promise. While thinking of that text watching the movie the scaries came back. That is what I call PTSD. While I have learned to deal with it and let come in and let it go, I absolutely hate when they rear their head. This time only lasted less than a minute.

Momma, I still question myself whether or not I did everything that I possibly could have while you were in the regional and main hospital. I replay decisions and actions. I thought you would come out of it. I really did.

This week they are coming to install new carpeting in your room. Since everything needs to be removed from the closet and also the dresser drawers (the dresser is too heavy to move) I asked dad if he wanted everything put back or if he was ready to donate your clothes. He is ready to donate them. Donnie said he’d take them to work and donate them to the women in need. It is better than taking them to the Goodwill. However I feel like so much of you will be missing from the house if your clothes are gone. You took pride in your clothes and appearance in general. I know you would want them to go to a good cause… it is just hard even to think of an empty closet. I used to pick out your clothes sometimes and make you get dressed up when we’d go out to lunch or a movie. I remember in 2019 after being in the hospital and cardiac rehab for months and then on to months of home care, you were finally able to put on a pair of jeans and a you looked so beautiful and I was soooooo happy to see you in regular clothes that I just started crying. I collapsed into your lap and with tears of “effing” joy and relief.

I know some people do not get to gather around their loved one(s) and say goodbye. I know that some people are taken instantly and without notice so I don’t want to come off as selfish for only having a short goodbye. The times were just so crazy during the pandemic. So many uncertainties.

Momma….please know that I do not want to donate your clothes. I would keep everything the way that it is…but maybe some how this will help in the healing process. I don’t know…

I love you Momma

~Lori Annie

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