So this post has been weighing heavily on my mind for awhile now. The day my mom died. It's only taken me over a year to get to the point where I think I can begin to tell the story. I'm going to be honest here, I'm not sure how much I can get through. But I am going to try.
I can't bring myself to read the posts that led up to her death day, but I am pretty sure that everyone knows Labor Day weekend, my sisters, dad and I were caring for mom around the clock. My dad "had" to go to work on Tuesday, the day after Labor Day, so I told him that I would come to the house at 6:30 in the morning to relieve him. That day I was planning on going to Dr. Greenfield's to have my FMLA paperwork signed so that I could care for mom. And please remember, I was 37 weeks pregnant with my third child. It was a chaotic time.
I got to mom's as planned at 6:30 in the morning. I remember that I was wearing black gauchos, a black long-sleeved shirt and my sandals. Dad greeted me at the door saying that it had been a hard night and that he didn't want to, but had to go to work to put in some hours. When I walked into the family room where the hospital bed was....I found my mom in a disgusting state. She looked like an animal the way he treated her.
She was laying in the hospital bed, skin and bones, with her nightgown CUT OFF at her belly button and no underwear on. My dad explained that she had peed on herself last night and that he couldn't get her up, so he just cut off her nightgown and took her underwear off and tried to change the sheets. I was looking at my mom, all of about 90 pounds at that point, naked and vulnerable and out of it. She would have been MORTIFIED.
I quickly put a sheet over her so that she wasn't as exposed. It was truly disgusting.....she may not have been with it, but she deserved dignity.
I should note, I didn't go over to mom's that day thinking that that was going to be her last day with us. I knew she didn't have long, but I never thought she was going to die that day.
So, my dad started telling me that Kasey was coming over as well, because when mom would want to get up to go to the bathroom, I wasn't going to be able to handle her by herself. At this point she was using one of those toilets on wheels. We would have to hook our hands under her arms to lift and move her to where she needed to be. He was afraid that with me being so prego that I wouldn't be able to do it by myself. I would soon learn that he was right.
So, he left and I sat down and started watching trash TV. I held her hand, caressed her skin and just sat.
Kasey came soon after, maybe around 8:00? At that point, mom started to fuss. After a little bit of a scramble, we figured out that mom had to go to the bathroom. So I hooked my hands under both of her arms and lifted. She was a little heavy, surprisingly. As I turned to take her the two steps to the toilet, she started peeing. My poor mom who was only half dressed, no underwear on, with her oldest daughter holding the front of her and her baby holding her on the side, started peeing.
I remember the pee falling on their hardwood floor and splashing up my leg. I remember putting my head down and just.....painfully....taking the moment in. She didn't know what she was doing, she just knew that she couldn't pee laying down. I believe that both Kasey and I put our heads down when we realized what was happening.
I struggle as I write this because my mom would have been mortified. But she was so sick from the cancer that she was literally out of her mind. When mom was done I was covered in her urine and the floor had a big puddle. BUT, she felt better and that was all I cared about. Fuck if I care that I have some pee on me. It was traumatic, because at that point I think I knew there was no going back. Mom was so out of it that there was absolutely, positively, no going back.
I think I have to stop now because I am honestly feeling sick. Sick because the fucking breast cancer made my mom's last day traumatic. Sick because I've finally put it out there. Sick because I've acknowledged how my dad left her that morning. Sick because she's dead. And sick because I miss her.
I guess I'll try another day to tell more. I can't do it now.