Medicated depression, day #821
Easter was shit, literary shit, I spent most of it on the toilet as I apparently caught some bug and well, could not attend the get-together with family as planned.
I took a break and traveled some with my dad, some drama and stuff, but it was all good at the end. I could have lost him during that trip but luckily I didn't -- that would have broken me.
I think about mom from time to time, not sorrow, more like I really miss her .. her strong opinions about stuff, and the discussions. I miss calling her and just tell her about my day .. stuff that happens, impression, yup just about everything, she would listen and comment, not always what I wanted to hear but at least her opinion about things.
Until the end she thought she'd get better and it was just a matter of time before she would get stronger so she could leave the bed, she had plans about fixing up the garden and a million other things, the fact that she was bed-bound the last three months was just a speed bump in her world. As she progressed, she also became more and more senile or foggy .. her beautiful handwriting became scribble, she was disoriented both in time and space, she could call me 5 times in a matter of minutes in the middle of the night, just to talk about something she had thought about for a few hours, everything was a mystery that had to be solved, clues in tv shows, in newspapers, something somebody said. All the scribbled notes were pieces of a puzzle, she tried to explain some of it and just pointed at her notes and asked me to just read it, it would explain things, but no, I could not decipher her scribble, it looked like a lump of spiders on drugs, just a mess of ball-pen scribble.
I'm happy though that I spent her last week with her, even though she slept alot, few moments here and there were clear but she floated in and out of consciousness and had lots of pain, special palliative team doped her up pretty hard as it was all they could do to relieve her of the pain. She got to meet her new grand child, she was clear for a few moments when she looked at him and touched him, as soon as she had done that she dozed off. I think she had fulfilled her last wish, to see her grand child and could now leave. She died three days later.
The funeral a few weeks later was .. demanding. I couldn't really feel anything and when I stood next to her casket, I talked to her for a bit and said good bye and thanks for everything, then I bursted into tears (just as I did now while thinking about it). Just sniffly-crying. My brother was almost ugly-crying, he was very much affected by the funeral and the procedures in the church. After we left the church we went all together to a venue next to the church for coffee and some chow, dad held a speech about their life together, almost 50 years together and all about how they traveled around Europe before settling down at the location they lived at for 40 years. My uncle, moms oldest brother also held a speech, most about himself (because why not) and touched on some historical points about mom and how the grew up together, mom was 12 years older so she basically baby-sat him back then.
I was not pleased with his speech, but wasn't surprised, he did the same thing when grandma had passed at her funeral as well, then he had just released a book about something .. and promoted that, at the funeral. Back then I was ready to punch him really hard in the face .. but mom saw what I was thinking and told me to stop, "he's not worth it".
This time she wasn't around, but I remembered her words.
(emotional, tears)
It still feels good to process, to put words to my thoughts. To get it out, it's not the first time and most certainly not the last time I do this. Each time it feels a bit better. I still miss her though.
Note: I write this for myself, to grief, to work it through. It's a reflection of my thoughts and thinks.