This blog entry will be my hardest. I've even debated even writing it, but I know selfishly it will be good for me, but more so I hope that I can reach even one person who might be having the same feelings or thoughts or experience. To let them know they are not alone.
To start I should explain what my biggest fear in the world was.
Friday, January 24, 2014 started out like any other day...got up and ready for the day and called my mom. I called my mom every single day...every morning, would talk to her at lunch, and then we would talk 3-5 times a night. It may seem excessive to some people, but it was just our way. We were close...best friends. Anyway, that morning I tried calling her over and over and over again...no answer. That wasn't like her. Maybe she was on the phone...maybe she was in the bathroom....taking garbage out....all these thoughts went through my head.
Dan and I jump in the car and race over to her apartment, because I'm "over reacting". This was typical of me...She had heart problems, so I was always worried about her. We pulled into the driveway of her apartment building. I look up to her bedroom window and I knew. Her curtain wasn't closed. She always closed her curtain so my daycare kids could nap. We parked and I ran into the building and into the elevator where I started sobbing.
I ran to her door...it was locked...I knocked...hear nothing. I have a key of course, so I let myself in and look...I see her laying in bed...oh ok! She over slept...not like her but ok. I walk into her room, and try and shake her awake. I start yelling and grab my phone and call 911. I touched her face...she was so cold...freezing. She was laying on her stomach and the 911 operator kept telling me to roll her over....I couldn't. Dan comes up and I give him the phone and leave the room.
I'm panicked. I can't live without my mom! No she's ok...paramedics are coming and they will fix her...i kept saying that over and over again. After what felt like an eternity paramedics, firemen, and police were there.
2 Paramedics came out of them room and told me there was nothing they could do. She was gone. "I'm so sorry for your loss". I heard it over and over, i even understood it. But no! She was fine! Either this was a bad dream and i'm going to wake up or they are lying to me and she is really ok.
"I'm not ready to do this without her". I remember saying that over and over.
Dan called family and friends and made arrangements for the day. I sat in the chair holding her scarf and looking at her shoes. I found a note asking Dan to put $5.00 on her laundry card. Her lunch was made in the fridge for work. Her clothes were laying out. But she wouldn't wake up.
Can I go back in time? Can I just reverse this so I can do something different? What did I do to deserve this? Who am I going to call when I need help or advice? Who's going to call me out when I'm being stupid?
It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She was supposed to be around for longer. We had made a grocery list the night before. We had made plans for the weekend. Why the hell was this happening?
After a few hours, I was surrounded my friends and family. I should mention we were in her apartment where she was still laying in the next room. Police were still there. I had to give a statement, and we were waiting for a coroner to declare her deceased.
Finally he came, Massive Heart Attack. There was nothing anyone could do. It was very quick.
Those are the words I'm supposed to take and feel comfort from apparently. We were able to take a few minutes with her before the funeral home took her. I cried and cried. Finally she was taken out and was on her way to the funeral home. The next day I had an opportunity to see her and "spend time with her". Our funeral home was very accommodating and I'm so grateful for that. Dan and I went and we got to see her. She looked "better" than she did the morning I found her. She looked peaceful.....she looked at rest. It was reassuring for me. I fixed her hair and talked to her. I said good bye to my mom. My best friend in the whole world. I said goodbye to the most amazing woman I had ever known. A woman that I can only hope and pray I can be even half of. Because I know if I can be then I will be ok.
The next 2 weeks, with help from family and friends, I arranged her service, dealt with bills, people, and paperwork. I slept on her couch for those 2 weeks. I wanted to be close to her. We finally went home, but it was different now. My life was different.
Everyone around me restarted their lives. I sat in the past. I stood beside her bed staring at her lifeless body. Wondering why? why did she leave me? why didn't she just go see a dr? why did I need to be an orphan. Yup I was an orphan.
Fast forward 1 year, and I'm still sad. I still have those questions. I still don't understand why she isn't here with me. I still cry myself to sleep some nights. I close my eyes and see her laying there....happens alot. But I know that all of that is ok.
Grief is a very personal journey. It's a huge amount of work and physically and emotionally draining. I don't even know if it's worth it in the end. I feel like I've spent the majority of my life grieving for somebody. And my grieving for my mom will never end. The hole that she left in my heart and in my life will forever be there. But you know what? That is ok. I know that hole is there, and I'm slowly learning how to live my life without her in it physically. I'm learning how to move on with a hole in my heart and my life.
JM
Saturday 24 January 2015
Sunday 18 January 2015
....loosing my dad...
My dad's name is Gerry. Growing up we lived in a house with a big back yard and a huge deck....that he built! I loved that house...I remember the day we moved into it...it was so big...and I was so little! I thought it was awesome and was so excited. I remember my dad asking me if I liked it and I jumped up and hugged him. My dad was a long haul truck driver. That meant that a lot of the times he would be gone all week and we would only see him on weekends. I hated it. My mom and I were not close and she certainly wasn't my favorite person at this point in my life.
He would leave on sunday nights and I would crawl into bed with my mom so I could feel close to my daddy.
His first heart attack I remember. I was young...6 or 7 maybe. I remember my mom waking me up and driving us to the hospital. I remember not knowing what was happening and angry that I was waken up and put into the car. I even remember sitting in the hospital with my mom...snuggled up sleeping...no idea or clue how serious the situation was. That was the first of many attacks he would have.
Time went on, he retired eventually and I was so happy. He was home all the time...I could come home from school at lunch and he would always make me something exciting....hotdogs in Kraft Dinner or bacon on grilled cheese (that didn't go over so good!).
I have 3 "half siblings". I put quotes because I don't think of them like that. They all lived with us during some point of my growing up. The one I remember the most is my sister Sherry. I wanted to be just like her. Everything she did I had to do. I remember sneaking into her bedroom and listening to her New Kids On The Block tape...yes not a cd or mp3...a cassette tape....trying to remember the words so she would think I was cool. I would try and get her in trouble and she did the same with me...i'm sure she thought I was just some pesky little sister. I think my dad secretly loved this, even though I know we drove him nuts.
I finally went to high school and became a teenager....this is when things started to change at home. My dad's health started to get worse, and soon he was limited to just the upstairs. Going up and down stairs was just impossible for him....I wasn't used to this...the same man that I remember carrying me on his shoulders taking me to bed...was stuck on the upstairs level of our house.
The decision was made to move. We moved into an apartment and I was heart broken. Not only was my dad sick but now I had to leave the house that I grew up in and loved. I got a new room that had it's own balcony....pretty cool! It all worked out fine.
My dad was in and out of the hospital, and finally we got a hospital bed in his room, he had his own bathroom and my mom and I had setup a whole system in his room. We had a huge table and his medicine was all layed out. In August 1997 he went into the hospital via an ambulance. It was real now. He came home and had oxygen, IV's, more pills. It was overwhelming. Fortunately my mom was a trained nurse so she was able to care for him at home. She taught me everything, and we came up with a great system. She would cover during the day, and when I got home from school, I would spend time with him, him helping me with homework, and I would take care of his injections, and medicine.
It sounds crazy that a 16 year old was responsible for that....but it gave me time with him, that to this day I cherish and thank god for. Then the best thing ever happened....my teachers went on strike! (hey when your in high school and 16 years old it's pretty awesome). But something else happened too...my dad went back into the hospital...he was having trouble breathing. The next 2 weeks of my life are ones I will never forget.
My grandma came down from chatham, so did my aunt and uncle, next thing I know my brother was down....he's in the army...so now I knew it was a big deal. Then the conversation happened. My mom and my Uncle Max sat me down and told me that they were starting him on Morphine to make him more comfortable and it was just a matter of time before he would pass away. There was nothing more the dr's could do for him. I said No that's not right and cried for the rest of the night.
The teachers strike lasted for 2 weeks....which allowed me time to stay at the hospital and spend time with him. I remember some of his last wishes....a beer....and a panzerotti from Tony's, while watching Casablanca, one of his favorite movies.
On November 7, 1997 my dad passed away. My mom and brother came home from the hospital and I just knew. No words were needed. One of the saddest days of my life. Next was a whirlwind of people. People I didn't know...people I didn't want to see....tons of people. Alot of people ask me if I rebelled after that....not really...the worst I did was sneak into my brother Steven's room and steal a cigarette....tried to smoke it but just got sick.
My mom and I were inseperable after that. My dad wrote a letter to alot of people saying goodbye...and we read it together after everyone was gone and we were alone. I still have that letter in his bible and it stays close to me always. I still can't read it without crying.
The funeral came the next day it was what he wanted. I remember I didn't cry until they played that song...by boz skaggs...close the window i think it was called....then i couldn't stop crying. I remember we walked out of the service and I collapsed into my brothers arms for I don't know how long just sobbing.
Life went on as it does. My mom and I bonded over everything. Became best friends. She helped me with my first love and first heartbreak. We had shopping Thursdays, and would have dinner out just the two of us. It was awesome . I love those memories.
Loosing my dad was horrible. I will always remember him, and he is my hero, and I strive to live everyday as he would have lived his days...to the fullest. I can only hope that he is up there watching over me and is proud of me. I've made mistakes in my life, but i've learned from them and although have done things that i'm not really proud of, i've grown up and I know in my heart that he is right beside me.
I will forever be daddy's little girl...and nothing can or will change that.
thanks for reading
JM
He would leave on sunday nights and I would crawl into bed with my mom so I could feel close to my daddy.
His first heart attack I remember. I was young...6 or 7 maybe. I remember my mom waking me up and driving us to the hospital. I remember not knowing what was happening and angry that I was waken up and put into the car. I even remember sitting in the hospital with my mom...snuggled up sleeping...no idea or clue how serious the situation was. That was the first of many attacks he would have.
Time went on, he retired eventually and I was so happy. He was home all the time...I could come home from school at lunch and he would always make me something exciting....hotdogs in Kraft Dinner or bacon on grilled cheese (that didn't go over so good!).
I have 3 "half siblings". I put quotes because I don't think of them like that. They all lived with us during some point of my growing up. The one I remember the most is my sister Sherry. I wanted to be just like her. Everything she did I had to do. I remember sneaking into her bedroom and listening to her New Kids On The Block tape...yes not a cd or mp3...a cassette tape....trying to remember the words so she would think I was cool. I would try and get her in trouble and she did the same with me...i'm sure she thought I was just some pesky little sister. I think my dad secretly loved this, even though I know we drove him nuts.
I finally went to high school and became a teenager....this is when things started to change at home. My dad's health started to get worse, and soon he was limited to just the upstairs. Going up and down stairs was just impossible for him....I wasn't used to this...the same man that I remember carrying me on his shoulders taking me to bed...was stuck on the upstairs level of our house.
The decision was made to move. We moved into an apartment and I was heart broken. Not only was my dad sick but now I had to leave the house that I grew up in and loved. I got a new room that had it's own balcony....pretty cool! It all worked out fine.
My dad was in and out of the hospital, and finally we got a hospital bed in his room, he had his own bathroom and my mom and I had setup a whole system in his room. We had a huge table and his medicine was all layed out. In August 1997 he went into the hospital via an ambulance. It was real now. He came home and had oxygen, IV's, more pills. It was overwhelming. Fortunately my mom was a trained nurse so she was able to care for him at home. She taught me everything, and we came up with a great system. She would cover during the day, and when I got home from school, I would spend time with him, him helping me with homework, and I would take care of his injections, and medicine.
It sounds crazy that a 16 year old was responsible for that....but it gave me time with him, that to this day I cherish and thank god for. Then the best thing ever happened....my teachers went on strike! (hey when your in high school and 16 years old it's pretty awesome). But something else happened too...my dad went back into the hospital...he was having trouble breathing. The next 2 weeks of my life are ones I will never forget.
My grandma came down from chatham, so did my aunt and uncle, next thing I know my brother was down....he's in the army...so now I knew it was a big deal. Then the conversation happened. My mom and my Uncle Max sat me down and told me that they were starting him on Morphine to make him more comfortable and it was just a matter of time before he would pass away. There was nothing more the dr's could do for him. I said No that's not right and cried for the rest of the night.
The teachers strike lasted for 2 weeks....which allowed me time to stay at the hospital and spend time with him. I remember some of his last wishes....a beer....and a panzerotti from Tony's, while watching Casablanca, one of his favorite movies.
On November 7, 1997 my dad passed away. My mom and brother came home from the hospital and I just knew. No words were needed. One of the saddest days of my life. Next was a whirlwind of people. People I didn't know...people I didn't want to see....tons of people. Alot of people ask me if I rebelled after that....not really...the worst I did was sneak into my brother Steven's room and steal a cigarette....tried to smoke it but just got sick.
My mom and I were inseperable after that. My dad wrote a letter to alot of people saying goodbye...and we read it together after everyone was gone and we were alone. I still have that letter in his bible and it stays close to me always. I still can't read it without crying.
The funeral came the next day it was what he wanted. I remember I didn't cry until they played that song...by boz skaggs...close the window i think it was called....then i couldn't stop crying. I remember we walked out of the service and I collapsed into my brothers arms for I don't know how long just sobbing.
Life went on as it does. My mom and I bonded over everything. Became best friends. She helped me with my first love and first heartbreak. We had shopping Thursdays, and would have dinner out just the two of us. It was awesome . I love those memories.
Loosing my dad was horrible. I will always remember him, and he is my hero, and I strive to live everyday as he would have lived his days...to the fullest. I can only hope that he is up there watching over me and is proud of me. I've made mistakes in my life, but i've learned from them and although have done things that i'm not really proud of, i've grown up and I know in my heart that he is right beside me.
I will forever be daddy's little girl...and nothing can or will change that.
thanks for reading
JM
Saturday 17 January 2015
....alittle back story
My experience with grief started many years ago...really before I even understood anything. 6 years old saying goodbye to my grandpa. I don't remember too much except clinging to my dad and watching my mom be so sad. Next I was 9 years old and my dad's mom died. My grandma H. This time is was more real. I understood more and I remember the funeral and I remember silly stuff like my sister daring me to touch her. But what I remember the most is watching my Grandpa. Watching him touch her hand and sob. Losing his love. It became real for me then.
Fast forward 6 years and it's that time again. This time my grandpa H. The man I had watched mourn his wife...his life long love. Now I watched my dad sob into my moms arms and I was scared. My dad...my amazing dad who was so strong and smart was a puddle of tears and pain.
7 months later the unthinkable happened. My dad died. I was 16. Way too young to have had so much grief, but there it was. I remember the last time I saw my dad. We were at the hospital and my mom said it was time to go home. I knew in my heart it was the last time I would see him alive. I had to shake him awake so I could say goodbye. I held it together and once I was in the hallway with my mom I broke down. Sobbing in the hall. I had just said goodbye to the most amazing man in the world....a man who had taught me kindness, and forgiveness. A man who was supposed to stay and take care of me...was leaving. He died the next morning.
Now it was me and my mom against the world.....which would have been fine, however my mom and I never got along! But something happened...something changed that day. We clung to each other crying missing dad...her missing the love of her life....her heart. My life changed that day. My mom became my best friend. My everything.
Life went on as it does. I graduated high school, got married, got divorced. Got married again. (still happily married 6 years later!) I grew up. My mom was still my best friend...we were so close...it was the best relationship ever. We had survivor nights, and every saturday we would get groceries together. We even lived across the hall in the same apartment building for 3 years.
2012 comes and my grandma gets sick. We loose her on April 13. She was so amazing. I sat beside her with my family and held her hand when she passed. First time in my life I prayed for god to come and take her, to make her safe and happy and take her to be with my grandpa.
That rocked our family. My mom was a mess. Her mom was gone. Her parents were both gone. She didn't know what to do. Over the next couple years I watched her mourn and grieve for her loss. I wish I had known then what I know now.
On January 24, 2014 I woke up thinking it was just like any other day. Nope. I soon learned it was a day that I would never forget. I tried calling my mom and she wouldn't answer....we drive over there and I find her in bed. She was gone. There was nothing I could do. This day has changed my life. It's almost 1 year to the day and it feels like it was yesterday. So many times I go to pick up the phone to call her and tell her something exciting. It's normal of course, but once the realization comes across you, it's just like she's died all over again.
thanks for reading...more soon....
JM
Fast forward 6 years and it's that time again. This time my grandpa H. The man I had watched mourn his wife...his life long love. Now I watched my dad sob into my moms arms and I was scared. My dad...my amazing dad who was so strong and smart was a puddle of tears and pain.
7 months later the unthinkable happened. My dad died. I was 16. Way too young to have had so much grief, but there it was. I remember the last time I saw my dad. We were at the hospital and my mom said it was time to go home. I knew in my heart it was the last time I would see him alive. I had to shake him awake so I could say goodbye. I held it together and once I was in the hallway with my mom I broke down. Sobbing in the hall. I had just said goodbye to the most amazing man in the world....a man who had taught me kindness, and forgiveness. A man who was supposed to stay and take care of me...was leaving. He died the next morning.
Now it was me and my mom against the world.....which would have been fine, however my mom and I never got along! But something happened...something changed that day. We clung to each other crying missing dad...her missing the love of her life....her heart. My life changed that day. My mom became my best friend. My everything.
Life went on as it does. I graduated high school, got married, got divorced. Got married again. (still happily married 6 years later!) I grew up. My mom was still my best friend...we were so close...it was the best relationship ever. We had survivor nights, and every saturday we would get groceries together. We even lived across the hall in the same apartment building for 3 years.
2012 comes and my grandma gets sick. We loose her on April 13. She was so amazing. I sat beside her with my family and held her hand when she passed. First time in my life I prayed for god to come and take her, to make her safe and happy and take her to be with my grandpa.
That rocked our family. My mom was a mess. Her mom was gone. Her parents were both gone. She didn't know what to do. Over the next couple years I watched her mourn and grieve for her loss. I wish I had known then what I know now.
On January 24, 2014 I woke up thinking it was just like any other day. Nope. I soon learned it was a day that I would never forget. I tried calling my mom and she wouldn't answer....we drive over there and I find her in bed. She was gone. There was nothing I could do. This day has changed my life. It's almost 1 year to the day and it feels like it was yesterday. So many times I go to pick up the phone to call her and tell her something exciting. It's normal of course, but once the realization comes across you, it's just like she's died all over again.
thanks for reading...more soon....
JM
Friday 16 January 2015
....and here we go!
So I've made the decision....to become a blogger! Or at least attempt to!
I've watched my husband do it for years, and have always been curious...just never had anything really to blog about...well now I do.
Grief.
Such a heavy word. A word that comes with so many thoughts, ideas and even expectations. It's a word...no a feeling, an emotion that I know all to well. I feel like a grief expert. But before I get into the heavy stuff alittle about me...
I'm 33 years old and I live with my Husband, Dan, and our fur babies in London Ontario. We have Mackie who is a shih tzhu and 1 year old....puppy years lots of fun! Brandy who is a terrier mix and is 15 years old....her hobby is sleeping. Then there are the 4 cats wandering around. Daisy, Bailey, Kit Kat, and Chester. Dan works and i'm what they refer to as a "housewife". In truth i've had health issues that prevent me from working. So I take care of our house and all the animals!
Now why write a blog about grief? It's so sad. depressing. lonely even. Well I've lost alot of people in my life and I figure if there is a chance that by writing my thoughts, feelings and even experiences, that I might be able to help even one person out there who is suffering and feels lost and alone, then it is all worth it.
I plan on going into detail of my feelings and what I did whether it was good or bad or inbetween. But the main motivator for writing this blog.....
January 24, 2014 I lost my best friend. My mom. She had a massive heart attack in her sleep and died instantly. That is where this blog comes from. All my grandparents are gone. And now both my parents are gone. I feel alone...even though i'm not. Sometimes worse than other times.
This is the straw that broken the camels back. This is the reason I'm writing this blog. In my future entries I will go into more detail about my losses, but this is just a tidbit. I have so much grief, and emotions to share. I want to reach out and help people to understand that everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time. There is no time limit on grief. That is the most important thing to remember. Alot of times people will say "aren't you over that yet", or show concern that you are still "sad". Well thats ok. Grief is different for everyone.
Thanks for reading.....
JM
I've watched my husband do it for years, and have always been curious...just never had anything really to blog about...well now I do.
Grief.
Such a heavy word. A word that comes with so many thoughts, ideas and even expectations. It's a word...no a feeling, an emotion that I know all to well. I feel like a grief expert. But before I get into the heavy stuff alittle about me...
I'm 33 years old and I live with my Husband, Dan, and our fur babies in London Ontario. We have Mackie who is a shih tzhu and 1 year old....puppy years lots of fun! Brandy who is a terrier mix and is 15 years old....her hobby is sleeping. Then there are the 4 cats wandering around. Daisy, Bailey, Kit Kat, and Chester. Dan works and i'm what they refer to as a "housewife". In truth i've had health issues that prevent me from working. So I take care of our house and all the animals!
Now why write a blog about grief? It's so sad. depressing. lonely even. Well I've lost alot of people in my life and I figure if there is a chance that by writing my thoughts, feelings and even experiences, that I might be able to help even one person out there who is suffering and feels lost and alone, then it is all worth it.
I plan on going into detail of my feelings and what I did whether it was good or bad or inbetween. But the main motivator for writing this blog.....
January 24, 2014 I lost my best friend. My mom. She had a massive heart attack in her sleep and died instantly. That is where this blog comes from. All my grandparents are gone. And now both my parents are gone. I feel alone...even though i'm not. Sometimes worse than other times.
This is the straw that broken the camels back. This is the reason I'm writing this blog. In my future entries I will go into more detail about my losses, but this is just a tidbit. I have so much grief, and emotions to share. I want to reach out and help people to understand that everyone grieves in their own way and in their own time. There is no time limit on grief. That is the most important thing to remember. Alot of times people will say "aren't you over that yet", or show concern that you are still "sad". Well thats ok. Grief is different for everyone.
Thanks for reading.....
JM
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