Once upon a dream.

   Having weird dreams isn't a new thing for me. When I take melatonin they get extremely weird, and very vivid. Not too long ago I had one that actually sparked an interest for me. I've thought about it a few times over the past week. What if I could somehow bring a deceased family member back for 48 hours? No, the person would not resemble a zombie. He/she would come back just as they left, but in cases like my moms, the person would be able to be mobile. Able to do anything. However, at the end of the 48 hours, you would have to relive all of the pain you went through after losing your loved one, just like it was yesterday. Or you could opt out of that, and switch places with the loved one. They would go on living, and you would simply not exist on earth any longer. (told you they get weird)


   In my dream, I was given the opportunity. I took it. I decided the person of choice would be my father. He's been dead since I was 3. I don't remember anything about him at all. So, he was brought back. The first thing he wanted to do was see his 3 children. Not surprising. The 3 of us spent the first 24 hours talking with our dad. We went to visit his family. He looked just like the pictures I have seen of him. The next 20 hours we spent with he and our children. He got to meet his grand kids. As the time got closer to him leaving again, we set off to an open field. I knew I didn't want to take his place, and I'm sure he never would have asked that of me, if this scenario were ever possible in the first place. We spent the last few hours with the 4 of us just talking, crying and laughing. When it was time for him to go, it was easier than I thought. I was only 3 when he died and didn't have any clue what was happening. In my dream, I cried for a few minutes, but that was all. I don't know how I actually reacted when I was 3. I'm sure it went something like that. After I awakened, it was a little odd what just happened. I thought it was actually nice. My dreams are kind of awesome. 


   I assume many people would do the same thing I did. Make the choice to bring a loved one back, but not take their place. Then I thought about if it was one of my children, what would I do? I am almost positive I would have to take his/her place. Tough decision, but I would do it in a heart beat. 


   I always wonder what other people would do. Would they do the same as me, or just let it be? 

Life goes on, but it's so hard.

T was given the emergency leave. We were able to go back to Ohio for 5 days. As soon as I saw her, my heart dropped. She looked so fragile, so frail. The way her eyes lit up when she saw the kids, was amazing. God, she loved them so much. She seemed to do well while we were there. Laughed and smiled a lot:) My sister had her baby boy the day we flew in, so my mom got to see him, and hold him. The day before we left, I laid in bed with her for awhile. That was my favorite part. She told me it would all be okay. The morning we left, and had to say our goodbyes was awful, and heart wrenching. As I hugged her, we both started crying. She asked if I was okay. I said no, and she started crying. She told me, "only a few more months and you'll be home. I'll be here." Those last words still hurt when I think of her.

On January 30th, my sister called me. Hospice was taking her to the hospital. Her pain could not be controlled, and her fever was 104, she had an infection. I asked if I could talk to her. I heard my mom say no, she was too weak. I wish someone would have just held that phone for me to hear her that one last time. About an hour later, they call and say she won't make it through the night. I started preparing to go home, so I could see her. Then it changed to she wouldn't make it through the day. I was starting to panic.  Not even a half hour later, I got the call. My mom was gone. I flipped out. It was all so wrong. So very wrong. She only found out 3 months earlier. How in the hell could this happen?! My world fell apart in those few minutes. Everything just fell apart. I was on a plane on February 1st. Her visitation was the 2nd. That day... was awful. seeing her in that casket made a part of me literally just die. I still haven't found it. It's empty there. I just cried. She was buried in a nightgown, by request. A pretty mint color with flowers. Her casket was beautiful. Mother embroidered in the lid, surrounded by roses, just like her moms. She is wearing the matching key necklace each of us girls wear around our necks also. It was so hard letting them close that casket. I wasn't ready to let her go. I didn't want her to be left alone. She's not alone though. A  piece of each of us was buried with her that day.

It hasn't gotten any easier. All the good memories seem to flood my thoughts when I try to sleep. I cry myself to sleep sometimes. I ask her to be with me, and suddenly I get this overwhelming feeling it will be alright, so I fall asleep. I talk to her every day, as if she can hear me, and is right beside me. The kids color her pictures, and talk to/about her. It's comforting. My daughter knows her Maw Maw is in Heaven, watching over her. She knows she'll never be able to see her, touch her, kiss her or hug her. She does know she can talk to her anytime her little heart desires. She says she misses Maw Maw. I do too. My mom is so loved. She is greatly missed.

I miss the texts on birthdays, and holidays. That's pretty hard. Knowing she used to text at midnight on birthdays or holidays,  and not receiving them anymore. It's been almost a month, and it still seems unreal. I know this will get easier, at least that's what I keep telling myself, and hear from my friends. I'm not so sure how long it will take. I'm so afraid of forgetting. That memories will start to fade. I refuse to let this happen. This pain and emptiness I feel, I would not wish on my worst enemy.

I love you, mom. Until We Meet Again. xoxo

Here goes nothing... err, everything.

Mom stopped chemo. It's not working for her. Hospice has been brought in. Nothing more discomforting than receiving calls and messages saying I need to come home as soon as possible. My heart has been ripped in half. I thought/hope we have so much longer, and everyone is just so wrong. I don't want to say goodbye. I really, really don't. It's not fair. Don't lead me the line of bullshit about life not being fair, either. I don't want to hear it.

I find myself crying more and more, trying to prepare myself for what may happen. I have a tiny bit of hope that everyone is wrong. Maybe, just this once, someone screwed up. She's fine, it will all be okay. My mom will still be there when I move home. Wishful thinking.

Stop asking me if I'm okay. Of course I'm going to say yes, when all I really want to do is wrap my arms around the person asking and just bawl my eyes out, without having to explain afterward why I just did that. So much guilt coming with all of this. Why do I always have to feel like the burden of the world is on my shoulders, and mine alone? It's a bad habit I have, and one that I'm sure I won't quit anytime soon. I'm afraid to answer my phone when my sister calls. I'm not prepared to hear anything right now. I need to see her, talk to my mom for myself, alone. I need to tell her everything will be okay. If I can, is a different story. The shock I'm sure will set in when I see her, is something I am not prepared for. What do I do? I'm going to cry. I know it. I just want to lay there with her, in her bed, wrapped up like a little girl who jumps in bed, when a thunderstorm happens. I want her to tell me everything is going to be alright. I know it's not true. I want it to be true though, more than anything.

I don't let people around me know I am suffering as bad as I am. When on the phone, I feel the tears starting, I tell them I have something to do. Then I cry my eyes out. Literally. They hurt so bad right now. Nothing can possibly take this pain away. A piece of me is dying. I can feel it tearing away each and every day. This is something a band aid, nor a kiss can fix. No one can make it better. My mom is dying. Just typing that, makes my heart drop. I took her for granted, and shortly, she will be gone. That laugh... the most contagious laugh. Every time I tell her something funny her grand kids do. Where she can't breathe because she is laughing so hard. How I'll miss it. Watching her freak out when I make her watch a scary movie with me. Shopping trips, the, "you spent $80 on torn jeans"? I miss the stupid forwards I had in my texts everyday from her. Stupid, silly stuff. I miss it already. I love you so much, mom. But I know you will have to go eventually. There are some pretty awesome people up there waiting for you. You'll be taken care of, as will we. I just regret not telling you I love you every singe day, every phone call, every time I saw you. What is with that? How awful that I just couldn't say it? Now, I won't get to. Fuck this whole thing, and fuck cancer.

Thank whoever for my wonderful honey family I have acquired. Without them, I'd be an even bigger mess. They are my shoulder right now. I love each ad every one of you.

Fingers crossed that T gets emergency leave, so we can go home to say our goodbyes, and soon. I don't want to be stuck here, when she passes. I want to be at her bedside. I love you mom, so very, very much.