Dreams

I've never really put all of this out there nor have I shared all of my feelings about this with anyone beyond Tom, but lately I've been having a lot of dreams about my mom. It's probably the pregnancy hormones messing with me, but there it is. She's been on my mind a lot and consequentially I've been thinking about her last days a lot. Here's what I remember.

About a year after Tom and I were married I got a call from my brother. He said mom had collapsed and was now in the hospital and the doctors were saying it was likely a stroke. We left immediately, driving that night down to Richmond to be with everyone. The next day at the hospital mom was up and talking, not feeling great, but getting back to her old self. I was just leaving her room when one of her doctors pulled me aside and asked to speak with me. He showed me into a small room and without pause blurted out mom's diagnosis. "She has cancer. We believe it's stage 4 lung cancer. You should prepare yourself to say goodbye to her in a few months."

I remember standing there, shocked. I barely managed to put together a coherent sentence and started falling apart when the doctor looked at me and sternly said "You can't go back in there looking like that. If you cry she'll cry and then she won't hear what we're saying."

If I could go back in time I would throat punch that doctor. His bedside manner was nonexistent.

And so we went back to her room and they broke the news to my mom. She took it much better than the rest of us. A plan was made for her radiation and chemo and other meds and she was eventually discharged home.

Up until around the time I was engaged, my mom and I had a pretty tumultuous relationship. It was great when I was young, but then got worse as my parents divorced and steps entered the picture. It wasn't until I was with Tom that I really reconnected with my mom. And then it was great - we were talking nearly every day and Tom and I would visit mom and David and everyone on weekends.

So when she was diagnosed with cancer I was devastated for many reasons, but selfishly I was pissed that just as we were getting our footing again she was being ripped away from me.

At the hospital her prognosis was just a few months. The cancer had spread throughout her body and was quite advanced. But my mom had the best attitude and believed that she would beat it. I wound up packing up and living in Richmond with her for a few weeks to help drive her to appointments and just to be with her. Thankfully the company I work for is supportive and before flex work was the norm, they let me work from her home for as long as I needed to. My team even sent her a beautiful arrangement of gorgeous white flowers.

It's funny that no matter what age you are, when you go "home" you quickly and easily fall back in to that parent/child relationship. My mom was the sick one and yet she doted on me and I loved it. For me it brought back all the good memories of my childhood. She made me deviled eggs - and I've always loved her deviled eggs better than anyone's - we watched crappy television together, she came up to my room at night to chat and we just spent time together.

Shortly after the diagnosis my brother was scheduled to fly out to begin his work with the Army. We got up at an insanely early hour and I drove him to the airport to see him off to Korea. That left mom, David and our little brother, Josh, at home. Josh was so young then - just a peanut in elementary school and David was working as much as he could while still trying to stay within the median to allow them to receive Medicaid so my mom could keep getting treatments. God, I remember going to the Social Security office with her and to appointments only to be told she wasn't getting treatment because Medicaid denied her due to David making too much that month. The whole thing was a circus and so ridiculous.

I eventually packed my stuff and came back home to Tom and our life here, but was still in daily contact with mom. I literally started every day with a call from her and we would email back and forth throughout the day. I still have each and every email she sent me - no matter how insignificant or silly. It took me a long time to remove her contact from my phone and I think it just happened one day after I upgraded to a new one.

Over the course of two years my mom bravely battled cancer. There were so many procedures and hospital stays and Tom and I got used to driving up and down 95. In fact, there was a great fried chicken place down the street from the hospital that Tom loved and the cafeteria food was actually pretty decent. We got so used to the hospital that we knew our way around better than the halls at work. We would all take turns hanging out in her hospital room, keeping her company and just visiting. At one point Tom and I thought it would be funny to see if a hospital glove could fit on my head and it did! I wish I could find the picture of it - I looked so ridiculous and I can still hear mom laughing at me.

After awhile the doctors talked to mom about her options. The chemo was destroying her body and it was taking her longer and longer to recover after each treatment. She was tired. And she made the bravest decision. She chose to go home on hospice care and let nature take its course. To this day I don't know where she got the strength to make that decision. During her battle she had also gotten more involved in her church and I think she gathered her strength from her belief in God.

Then one night in December 2007 I got a call from David. Mom had rapidly declined and it was time for us to come down to say our goodbyes. I remember hanging up the phone and rapidly throwing clothes into a bag and Tom doing the same. We sped down 95 at which point Tom realized he left his laptop at the office. Shrugging that off we continued on and got to mom's house. I had just talked with her. She was up and walking and talking and fine. When we got to her house that night and walked in she was in a wheelchair barely sitting up and being spoon fed.

I was shocked at the transformation. I mean I had heard what David said on the phone and yet I still wasn't prepared to see my mom like that. About 15 minutes later Ryan came in. The Red Cross had gotten in contact with him in Korea and had flown him home to be with mom. She literally brightened up when she saw him. An actual smile on her face.

The next few days were a blur and nearly eight years later still feel like a dream. We each took turns sitting with my mom in her bed. At one point I decided that enough was enough and took a bucket of cleaning supplies upstairs and tackled the bedroom we were staying in - it was a mess from my brother and stepbrother staying in there. I remember coming downstairs when we finished and telling my mom all that I had cleaned. In hindsight it seems silly that I spent some of my last days with her cleaning the house, but I think at the time I just needed to feel useful and see that I was doing something - anything really. As mom deteriorated we all realized that plans should be made for her funeral so Tom and I went out and met with a funeral director and came back with information and pricing to share with the family. That meeting was one of the most painful things I've had to do. No one wants to sit with a stranger and pick out a coffin for their mother who isn't yet dead.

Shortly after that was the day everything happened. Our worlds changed forever. That Wednesday night Tom and I went up to bed as David took over being with mom. He and Ryan promised to wake us if anything happened. And so it did. In the wee hours of the morning Ryan came running up the stairs. "Come now. She's dying." I have never jumped out of bed so fast in my life. David, Ryan, Tom and I gathered around mom in her bed, each of us holding on to her and telling her how much we loved her. We eventually woke up Josh to let him say goodbye. I'm still not sure if he fully grasped what was going on, but I couldn't imagine him not having the chance to say goodbye. Shortly after that mom took her last breath.

Something else I never shared with many people is that I was pregnant at that time. We had just found out right before we went down to my mom's that last time. At the time Tom and I kept saying what a blessing it was to have life coming in to the world with all that was going on.

As that rotten day wore on I needed to break free and get home so I could just be. Tom and I drove back home with the intent to change out our clothes and be back in time for the funeral. I don't know what I would have done without Tom. He took care of everything - calling everyone for me so I didn't have to think about it. The support we got from family, friends and colleagues at that time was overwhelming. One of my best friends immediately got on a plane and flew across the country to be with us. I will never forget seeing her show up and all she did to support me.

The funeral itself was something I barely got through. I cried through most of it, not wanting to believe this was real life. When it was over, I got up and saw all who came. Family...friends...and my boss and closest colleagues. A fresh wave of emotion washed over me seeing everyone there and in that moment I felt so much love. For mom, for me, and for everyone.

Once the reception was winding down we hopped back on 95 to head home. I think all told I wound up taking three weeks off of work. A day or so after being home I started bleeding...heavily. Being new to the whole pregnancy thing, I knew it wasn't the best sign, but also didn't want to panic. Stupidly I dragged my exhausted self to bed thinking the bleeding would stop if I stayed still. I woke up early the next day and nothing had changed. Tom drove me to the hospital where we discovered that I was miscarrying. Grief upon grief. Why not just pile more sad on top of everything I was already feeling? I vaguely remember the days following that, but know that I spent a lot of time sobbing into my pillow or just staring in space. I've never felt so emotionally drained in my life.

This December will mark eight years since my mom died. And like I said at the beginning, the past couple of weeks have been full of dreams and thoughts about her. Last night I dreamed that she was still alive - sick, yes - but still alive. And I was pregnant and she actually got to be with me and feel the baby kick. I woke up in the middle of the night in tears because I thought it was real and then felt a stab in my heart when I realized it was all just a dream.

I wish it was all just a dream. Nothing is more painful than losing the person who loved you first in the world. The person who loved you unconditionally.

I love you, Mom.