Getting on with it

It's hard to describe our anguish over losing mom, though anguish is a pretty good word. I'm not sure about the word despair. Pain, distress, deep sorrow. Those are good ones. Still...they are just words on a page. I think the most immediate thought I had when I knew mom was dying that night was an overwhelming sense of "Oh, God...what could we/should we have done to keep this from happening?" And, then, the thought of "We have let her down...we could have done something." She was determined to finish chemo and get on with her life. Or was she? Maybe she was tired of it and knew she had a life of anxiety ahead of her...always wondering if cancer was lurking somewhere in her body...and knew she didn't want that nor did she want more chemo after this crap. Some of us think she just knew deep down that she wouldn't make it through...that last hug was telltale for example. I digress... So, after the "We have let her down" thought came the cold reality that death is irreversible...we were faced head on with mortality. The mortality of the woman who gave us life and very often kept us going to be full participants in our lives. The anguish...the sorrow...the distress...the helplessness...the lack of control...the tears...the loss of someone so important, special, loved, significant, strong...she was our anchor. Now, it seemed, we were floating in this sea of...yes...despair...at least for a while.

During the weeks to follow, the sorrow was replaced by a certain joy in knowing that mom was released from this worldly existence and has gone on to her ultimate destination. My memories are certainly comforting. This is not to say there aren't still bad days or bad weeks. There are. I have missed mom terribly over the last several days. But I have to live in this life and take care of my own children and responsibilities and I can often hear her saying, "Shit or get off the dime." Or "Get on with it already!"

One blessing, for me, that has come out of losing mom is a better perspective...about everything, really. Though she allowed us all to use her as a sounding board and she never judged us for what we were feeling, we always knew that she allowed that, because she wanted us to let go, move on, and concentrate on what's important in our lives. Her greatest gift in death is helping me realize that holding on to anger and bitterness and regret has no purpose--I can't change what was...the past is what it is. With that, there are things I have been able to let go of. I don't want to live a life of regret or remorse...wondering how I could have or why I didn't do things differently, regretting decisions I've made and things I've done or haven't done. I cannot change any of those things. I can only live in the present knowing that I can make today the best day possible...my relationships the best relationships possible...the best decisions for today, etc., etc.

I can't change that mom is gone, but I can certainly apply what she taught me during her lifetime. Her strength lives on in all of us...some of us are way stronger than we ever thought we were. Even in death, she is our anchor. Our lives have changed. In that change and with mom's strength, we honor her as we "get on with it already."