Stacey, per your request, this is a warning that you don’t want to read on.
The rest of the entry is below the fold.
Con-flict – 1. To come into collision or disagreement; be contradictory, at variance or in opposition; clash. 8. Psychiatry. a mental struggle arising from opposing demands or impulses.
She’s in the hospital. Intensive care. They don’t think she’ll make it. Actually, they’re not sure she’ll last through the night. This is her choice. She didn’t do any of the things she needed to do to get a transplant. But she knew what she was choosing. She said she didn’t want to live the rest of her life in and out of doctors offices. I respect her choice anyway.
She calls my mom, “mom” sometimes. She also calls her “Aunt Dee,” but because her own mother died when she was young, my mom sometimes steps into her mother role for her.
My parents just left for Vegas because Jeannette is asking for her mother. I’m naming her. Because I believe that anyone on their death bed deserves recognition of themselves – for better or worse.
Jeannette is asking for her mother, on her death bed. I find great irony in that. Such sad, sad irony. Her refusal to be my mother. Her refusal to be A mother to her four children. Her blatant, “get over it.” Maybe, just maybe, with eternity in front of her she’s getting a glimpse of what “mother” “mom” “mommy” “mama” – what it means to the person speaking it. Maybe, just maybe, she’s getting a glimpse of how I feel in the lack of her love.
I’m conflicted about her coming death. I’m sad, but sad in a “a human is passing from this earth” way, instead of “Oh my God, Jeannette is dying” way. I’m angry at the fact that I will truly never know my past – at her refusal to enlighten me, even now. Angry that the chance is slipping through my fingers and there’s nothing I can do about it. And yes. There’s a part of me, a little 4 year old girl that is terribly sad that her mommy is dying. Because I will always, in a way, be the 4 year old who knew Jeannette as mommy.
My great-aunt Dolores, my mom, is there. To usher her to death, just as she’s ushered me through life.
I just want to sit and cry, but I’m so conflicted, I don’t know where the tears are coming from.
I’m so sorry. I hope you find peace.
I am sad for you and hope that eventually that little 4yr old inside you will come to peace!
It is too bad that you can’t go there and make Peace with Jeannette yourself – to tell her goodbye in person and to let her know how you feel before she goes. That could help you both in healing!
Here’s another wish for you to find peace.
I’m sorry for your pain and the little girl inside that was hurting.
((hugs))
I am so sorry for you loss; loss of the mother you needed and the loss of her life. I pray that the Lord is with you at every turn, and that you know you are not alone, and that you are LOVED.