It rained yesterday. Rain during the Fall always reminds me of Mom, even though she enjoyed the Summer heat much more than the Fall rain. The loss of a loved one has so many different ways it can affect your life. She will have been gone for 6 years, next Wednesday.
The following are posts from my online journal, which spans back to the year 2000. I go back and read these posts a lot. Funny how I still feel exactly the same that I did six years ago, that I do now. I guess it's because I will always love and miss her.
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A love lesson February 13th, 2004
Happy love day everyone. I was never a huge fan of this day- to me, it is a commercialized holiday- perfect for such companies as Hallmark and Sees Candy.
I believed that you should show your loved ones just how much you care, EVERY day.
Never did I mean that more than this Valentine's Day.
My mom lies in her room in the ICU today.
We found out last night (Friday, the 13th of all days), that she has brain cancer.
I sit here at 2am, aching, exhausted from crying.
I hate all of the papers they have us reading, telling us that 60% of patients die in the first year, 90% in the second.
I hate that my stepfather, her sweetheart when she was 12, then her sweetheart again when they reunited after divorcing my Dad, has to see her this way. I can see their unbreakable bond- a love so deep that no one can, or ever will understand it. I always wished my parents would get back together, but things happen for a reason. I couldn't imagine anyone else by her side but my stepfather.
It's hard to be strong for her. She doesn't know anything yet. One side of her head is shaved, due to her biopsy she had earlier yesterday. She's still joking around- my mommy, the same woman who told people off in a not so nice way when anyone pissed her off.
My mommy- the one who taught me so much, the one who made me believe I could be anything, I could accomplish anything.
My mommy, the rock. The strong willed woman that everyone admires. She looks so frail now, incoherent, in her hospital gown and robe, trying to eat her chicken katsu, ordering my stepdad to bring her coca cola, demanding that the nurse roll her bed downstairs so she could smoke.
I am scared. I don't know how long we will have with her.
My brother, god, he is only 15. His father just had the massive heart attack last January, his mother now diagnosed with having a tumor the size of a tennis ball in her brain. He is not showing any emotion. That's even scarier than showing any at all.
My sister, the one who takes after my mother, through looks and personality.
I want to go back to when we were kids, the three of us playing outside until sunset, then her calling us in for dinner, and we would listen to Duran Duran or Steely Dan while she made dinner and danced around. I want to be back at the beach with her, sitting on the hood of our car, watching my stepfather surf. I remember I would always notice that she looked so pretty in her turquoise bikini...
I cherish every moment that we have her, not just because of her condition, but because it should be that way EACH AND EVERY day.
If you love someone, tell them you love them. Show them you love them. Not just today.
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Life 101 September 14th, 2004
It is almost 2 am and I just got back from the hospital. Mom was admitted again after suffering two seizures last night. Her cancer is growing. She may be hemmoraging. She is scheduled to have more tests later today. Once again, we are just playing the waiting game.
My mom, my aunt (mom's sister), my sister and I gave our tummies a work out in the ICU, laughing uncontrollably at stupid and funny things that occurred in the past couple of days. It was a bittersweet moment, and this is one of the rare times that it dawned on me just lucky we as humans are, to get to experience such a wide spectrum of emotions- sometimes even numerous emotions at the same time.
We said our goodbyes at the cafeteria elevator after the three of them had a smoke break, with me fanning the smoke away from me the whole time. My sis and I are walking down the empty hospital hall when we hear "BYEEE!!". My mom was at the other end of the hall, shouting goodbye to us from her wheelchair, as my aunt waved to us. She looked happy but worn out, but she looked so frail and weak that it almost made my heart stop.
As my mom and aunt were on the other end of the long hallway, I realized that there were two generations of sisters across the hall from each other. It was almost like looking into the future, and I wondered for a second if my sister would be there for me the way my aunt is for my mother.
I always adored my younger sister. Truth be told, I used to bug her and terrorize her while growing up, and vice versa. But I would do anything I was capable of doing for her. We are completely opposite from each other. I never really understood her, and I will be honest when I say that she has disappointed me more than a handful of times, but I never have, and never will, give up on her. She is like a frustrating puzzle- it is so difficult to put the pieces together, but you feel compelled to figure it out because the final outcome is worth the effort. I am slowly putting the pieces together. I found a notebook with some of her writings- poems, verses, mostly just scrambled thoughts quickly scribbled on paper. I was intrigued. I never noticed that my sister is now a woman, and the thoughts she has are so deep and beyond my knowledge. We spent quite awhile chatting in my car in the hospital parking lot, and she has shared some personal things that I was naive to in the past. She has certainly come a long way. Although I don't understand her actions most of the time, I am beginning to see that she is old enough, and has been old enough to make her own decisions as her own person. I need to stop mothering her. I need to have more faith in her because she amy have her own agenda and she may have her own way of doing things, but she will figure them out.
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Goodbye November 1st, 2004
I've sat at my desk for the past couple of days, and tried to update. I think I'm finally ready.
It was a normal Wednesday 4am start at work for me. I had visited my mother the previous night at UMC hospital, where she was in the Burn Unit, critical condition (more as to why she was there later). I had been up all night, as seeing her in her condition had me tossing and turning, finally turning the alarm off at 300am. I had just made myself hot chocolate and was waiting for our first flight to depart. My phone rang and I saw it was my stepfather. I immediately knew something was wrong, as it was 7:35 am. He told me they couldnt find a pulse. I noticed the desperation in his voice and immediately called to J to get me from the other side of the airport where he had started work a half hour before.
They sky had been grey all morning, but as I hung up with J and was waiting for him to get me, it had started raining hard, and it was freezing cold. I mumbled a quick goodbye, as everyone at work already had a feeling what was going on, and I left in such a hurry I didnt care if I was going to get in trouble for just leaving.
We hit traffic on the way to the hospital- people always panic when they have to drive in rain- that morning was no different. I called everyone I could think of- my sister who was going to be picked up by my stepfather, and my aunt who had been my mom's companion from when she was first diagnosed. Everyone was already on their way. As we crawled on the freeway, a million things were racing through my mind. I feared the worse, I realized that I had not mentally or physically prepared myself for what I knew was happening. I could barely see out the window with the rain and fog on the windows, but I saw something on the side of the freeway that I had never noticed before, even driving past there more than a dozen times, I never saw until that morning. There, on a lone light pole on the side of the freeway, was a sign that simply stated, 'TRUST JESUS'.
We got to the hospital and I led J to the burn unit. My mind was in a daze as I I mumbled that we should wait in the waiting room for the rest of the family. J said, "I think they are all inside already". I don't know how I made it to her room, and even when I got to her room, I stood outside. I saw my family members in there, and I froze. J took my hand and slowly brought me in.
My mother laid there, the same way she looked the night before, but then I noticed she wasn't breathing. I noticed that there were no machines hooked up to her, I noticed that there was this peace to her in which she had not had the night before. I guess it hit me then, because I remember having nothing in me for a brief second- I collapsed at the foot of her bed, and realized that she was gone. My stepfather, my aunt, my sister, brother J and I cried for her.
I was afraid to touch her. She was so worn and physically deteriorating. But she was still my mother. I took her hand and held it for quite sometime. I then rest my head on her shoulder and cried, telling her that I will miss her always and that I still loved her as much as I ever had. She was still warm at that point.
It was still raining outside.
We all had our sobbing moments, our grief, but we also joked around at how she was so brave and strong until the very end, not ONCE complaining, although we all knew she was in great pain. I understood that she didnt deserve to suffer, and it would be selfish of me to want to keep her alive. She was cold when I held her hand for the last time on my way out.
The nurse had told us that her heart had just stopped that morning.
It was one of the longest days of my life, and it was hard to get through, because each new phone call was another person in whom we'd have to break the news to.
The next day, I was extremely exhausted. I noticed though, that the day started off beautifully. The sun was shining, and there was not a cloud in sight. I took this as sign that my mother was okay, and that gave me peace.
It hasnt even been a week yet, and there have been 'okay' days, and there have been 'down' days. I had a tough day today, especially when the Pastor came and spoke to us about grief, and about her service, which is on Thursday.
We are going to have a service here, then go to Hawaii next week and have one there as well, and scatter her ashes at her favorite beach.
I wish I could express just how much I love my mother, but I think it would be easier to keep it in my heart, and to share the happy memories with my children.
My whole life, I have strived to make my parents proud, and even now, I know I will work just as hard to make her proud.
Rest in peace, Mommy. 11-12-57 - 10-27-04
