I never got to say it, and if you didn't either - you can here

[The Straight Story]

I posted about my DU friend Bonobo earlier tonight and what he is going through right now with his mom dying of cancer.

And you all rose to the occasion and lifted his spirits. Thank you.

Before mom died I did not get to tell her goodbye.

She was in the hospital for two months. Day in and out it was 'she is doing bad and might die' then 'she is going to be ok'.

I was at a high point in my career. I had just come home from a trip to Chicago and she was in the hospital. Was going to have surgery the next day. I went to see her and told her to not worry about it, was a simple surgery for an infection - not like when she went in for a quadruple bypass years earlier.

Before visiting hours were over I called her to say good night - and dad answered. Heard mom in the background yelling in pain. Had never heard her in pain like that before. Her infection had burst and they were going to rush her into surgery. Gave her a 50-50 chance of making it.

Day in and out I was working and getting updates from my brother. Then she came home on 12-18-2004. It was all going to be ok.

12-24-2004 she went back into the hospital. I was staying the night at dad's house as the power was out after an ice storm, wife and daughter were in CA for Christmas. He woke me up to tell me an ambulance was coming to pick her up, no big deal - she was just dehydrated.

I went to see her Tuesday night/Wednesday morning - was going to spend the night with her and give dad a break for the night. I had planned on going to the funeral of a friend's son who was killed on Christmas eve - I just could not bring myself to go - so I got my book I had recently bought (on prime number theory) and the daily crossword puzzle and headed to the hospital. I also had the ensure my dad needed (did not know it at the time, but he had prostate cancer).

I walked in, and mom was not connected to any machines. She was out of it in many ways - and it took me by surprise. She was not making much sense.

I just stood there for a minute, then asked my dad 'what is going on?'. He told mom he would be right back and took me out into the hall.

She is dying. I hated him for saying that. I sat there with my book and crossword puzzle crying. I held that book so hard. None of it made any sense.

Then mom yelled from her room and we ran back in.

"Mick, give me a knife, the baby is stuck in the pillow and is suffocating". Dad handed her an invisible knife as I stood there.

The baby. That is what she called my little girl.

She saved that baby. She hugged it.

Then she saw me. Her youngest. Her little boy.

And she stopped.

"Why is he here Mick? You send him home. I don't want him to see me like this."

Dad told her I was here to stay the night with her, while he went home. He needed a shower, some rest.

"You send him home. He doesn't need to see me like this." and then she just smiled.

Dad relented, and told me to go home. Told me he would be ok, then he went to see the nurse while I waited. He needed a blanket.

Mom just smiled and looked at me. I told her I was going to go an get the car. And ask her if she wanted to take a ride with me and have a smoke.

She nodded and said yes. And then I saw the pain in her eyes as she saw me crying. "Go home"

I went home. On 12/31/2004 my dad called me. Wanted to know if I could get to the hospital. I couldn't drive, no way in fucking hell I could. My brother picked me up. We got there at 2:08am. She died at 2:06am.

I never got to say goodbye. Never got to tell her how much I loved her.

I just stood there, she looked like she was sleeping. My brother was on his knees next to her crying. I just stood there. I walked up to him finally and put my hand on his shoulder.

Take me home.

I never got to tell her goodbye. Never got to say all the things I so wanted to say.

So I say them now.

Goodbye Mom. You really were a wonderful inspiration to me. You taught me to love others, you taught me that it does not matter the color of someone's skin, or their sexual orientation, you taught me to love others no matter who they were or what they believed.

You showed me what real love was. In your last days, for but a moment, you snapped out of whatever it was you were in and remembered me.

Thanks mom - for all you taught me. And thanks for being there all those years when I needed you.

for mom:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oGOq-M1dFHw

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. What a beautiful, beautiful post, my dear SS...

I am enormously moved ...

My mom and dad are still alive...

I am very sure that your mom hears you tonight, sweetie...

:hug:

[saracat]

2. How beautiful You made me cry.I didn't get to say goodbye either

and your post touched my heart. my mother died of breast cancer when I was 20.She thought she had beaten it.She was past the 5 year remission period.She thought she had strained her back shoveling snow and they found the cancer had spread all through her body. We didn't want to talk about dying , so we only talked about a hopeful future, so we never said goodbye. She died alone on the 23rd of January many years ago.The hospital lied about trying to reach either my father or myself and my dad discovered her dead when he came for his daily visit after work. I raced up the stairs to see her and noticed she wasn't breathing. It was at 6PM and she had died at 1PM. Neither of us ever got to say goodbye.
I would have liked to have thanked her for being the incredible role model she was. She was a poor girl who put herself through law school and became one of the first women in New York State to practice before the US Supreme Court.She was a feminist before the word existed.She taught me about respect and honor. She taught me that anything was possible if you worked hard enough and dreamed.I still miss her very much.

[housewolf]

3. I remember your posts from that time, that New Years time with the ice storm and cold

Perhaps because you were in Columbus, and I grew up in Bexley. Perhaps because my mother died unexpected too, some years earlier. Even now, as then, your words put me back in touch with the grief.

Even then, she loved you and she knew how much you loved her. That's why she sent you home. She knew that where love is, words aren't required. All that is needed is the feeling level.

Your mom was a beautiful, loving woman. She would have been so moved by the loving tribute you created for her.

I'm glad that you can say goodbye to her now. No matter what you have suffered these past years, it's not too late. It's never too late. Say your goodbyes. Say them as many times as you need to. In her world there is no time, there is only now. It's always the right time.



Straight Story, I can see, from looking at the pictures, where your own tenderness, sensitivity and strength come from. They are a lasting gift she has given you. So many times over the past 5 years I have read your posts and been touched by the depth of your feeling and your ability to express it in written form. I'm glad I saw your post tonight. Thank you for all that you have given to those, such as I, who you don't even know.



:hug: :hug: :hug:

[renate]

4. I was fortunate enough to go to a lecture by Stephen Levine; he said something I've never forgotten

He's written several books on death and dying, by the way, if the name doesn't ring a bell.

He talked about the pain felt by a hypothetical someone who'd lost a family who went out for ice cream and were killed by a drunk driver. He said that they only feel that pain once; the survivor would feel it a thousand times, ten thousand times, every time they thought about the accident.

It sounds like your mother's death was not what you would have wanted it to be. Maybe it wasn't the way she wanted it to be, either. But she only went through it once. You've been through it, vividly, every time you remember it. But her pain wasn't nearly the pain you have felt about it.

Those last days were hard for her (and for you) but she only endured them once. And she probably wasn't entirely aware of what was going on, anyway. But even if she were--she only went through that pain once. You can hit "replay" any time your mind wanders back to that horrible grief. But for her, it wasn't nearly as hard as it's been for you.

:hug:

(P.S. I really believe that she knows now--and I know for sure that she knew then--everything you would have wanted to say.)

[TexasObserver]

5. Poignantly written, moving story.

[malaise]

6. Touching

I'm sure she knew you loved her. :grouphug:

[Bonobo]

7. That was beautiful. I am inspired by you, man. nt

[Raine]

8. Very sweet

:hug:

[Hekate]

9. I remember, TSS. I remember your youtube video, too. My mom died 3 years ago...

... I was on the train trying to get to her when she passed on. She had a bowel infarct -- it takes you fairly fast, just not as fast as a heart attack. My daughter and my youngest brother Mike were with her -- the last words she said were, "Go home, Mike. This is going to be a long night." My daughter sang to her while she was dying.

She was a fierce old lady and was ready to go. I think of her as leaping into the arms of Death to just get it over with, she'd had so much pain for so many years.

She and I didn't get along for about the last 20 years of her life -- I loved her so much up until that time that it blinded me to many things. Once I put my foot down and refused to ever return to where my father was, she never forgave me. I kept trying to regain the mother I had loved, not knowing that the breach really was final.

My sister and I were able to have some time alone with our mother's body, which she wanted donated to the university. We talked a little, prayed a little, recited poems we liked and a song that all 3 of us loved ("Mehitabel's Theme" by Rosalie Sorrels), and each took a lock of her hair.

The memorial service we put on was very nice. I got to listen to a number of women my own age tell me how she had mothered them as adults, how loving she was, how intelligent and well-read, how witty. I wished I had known that woman.

There's a huge backstory, as there always is with families. I've worked hard on perspective, letting insight come where it will. Finally, in a guided meditation I did a year ago, I finally saw her spirit leave for the other shore. She doesn't haunt me any more like a hungry ghost. Some day I hope to simply remember the woman I loved and who loved me.

Gatè, gatè, paragatè, parasamgatè, Bodhi svaha.
Gone, gone, totally gone, totally completely gone, enlightened, so be it.

Hekate

:hug:

[laylah]

10. What a beautiful tribute,

TSS. She knows all of this, don't ever doubt that. Moms just "know". Peace :hug:

[GreenPartyVoter]

11. Mom's been gone 5 years since yesterday, and MIL 12 years this month. MIL

was ill for a couple of months, but I never really said "good-bye" to her face. How do you do that when everyone is praying for a miracle? And with my mom I regret being snippy with her on our last phone call. And I regret not recognizing the signs of her heart attack and getting her help. :(

So to both my moms, I love you and good-bye. I hope there is something after this life and that I get to see you again. :hug:

[patrice]

12. Blessings, Straight Story. She's your Mom; she knew your heart.

No mumbo jumbo, no one is ever really gone.