6/22/2014

Saying Goodbye is never easy...

I was supposed to go to a wedding on Saturday... for a former coworker... I was excited about seeing her get married... but something came up... and I needed to be elsewhere... I am sad to report that my dear friend, Jill, lost her mother last week... to cancer.  Her mother had been fighting for a while... and the funeral was this weekend...

Jill and I have been friends for a long time... known each other since we were probably five or six... but didn't get close until our senior year of high school.  We went in different directions after graduation, but she is one of the few people I have stayed in touch with, beyond the world of social media.  My heart breaks for her and for her father... for her siblings... and their kids...

I can't share much... or won't share much.. about how this has been for Jill...that is her story to tell, not mine...

I fear I have not been a good friend to Jill since her mother was diagnosed... it is something I need to do better with... and Jill... I am sorry I have not been there for you as I should have been... when her mother was diagnosed... it of course triggered things for me.  Jill was optimistic that treatments would work and I wanted so much for her optimism to become truth... and I could not find a way to support her optimism... the kind of cancer her mom had was a kind that is fatal... and I so hoped her mother's experience would be different than Mom's... but... knew there would not be a happy ending... I had no idea how to be a friend in that situation.... but instead of being there...in whatever capacity... I withdrew...  I also feared that her seeing me would make the fears of losing her mother more real and I didn't want to do that... I admit.. I was also triggered by much of what Jill was going through... and it brought back, so quickly, memories of losing mom... and those who have experienced losing someone, especially to cancer, know those memories are always so close to the surface...but again, I feel selfish for pulling back... 

I think I have said it before... but another evil twist to losing a parent, especially before one should be lost, is that having experienced it provides no wisdom to offer to others experiencing the same thing...  there were no words of wisdom, no helpful advice... leaving me with more feelings of inadequacy...

Friday night were the visiting hours... I was glad to get there and be there with Jill... She was working hard to be strong... and it reminded me of me... when I saw people after Mom died... I had my moments of crying but also had moments of being calm and saying the things people want... and need to hear from those of us for whom the loss is the biggest... that we are doing okay... that the loved one is now in a better place... that  she went peacefully... that we knew it was coming and somehow were ready... I was not ready... I mean I was.. in that I wanted it to be over... it being the suffering the waiting the anguish... but of course with that comes guilt... for wanting in an inadvertent way, the loved one to die in order for that suffering to be done.. for them.. and for you... she had moments of panic... when she thought she lost a ring she had worn, most likely for the first time that had been her mom's... moments of absolute vulnerability... and of absolute strength... I was glad to be by her side... and shared in her grief... for her mother... sad for her sadness, felt pain for her pain... and felt the pain, strong once again, of losing Mom...  I left after Jill's husband had arrived... and returned to the lake... with Dad and Betty...

When they asked me how it was I told them about it and got emotional...  they did too... seeing me emotional... Saturday the funeral was in the afternoon... it was a long service... I tried to use strategies Mom had taught me at such functions... counting things... flowers, folds in curtains, ceiling tiles, people, etc...  and it worked at times, but when I saw Jill's emotions escape from under her control... my eyes filled with tears and I was so sad for her... there were stories told about her mom... songs sung... prayers... and at the end Jill did something brave... something I would not have had the strength to do... she got up... and asked us all to indulge her for a minute... she wanted to look around the room and remember us.. those who were there... and thanked people for the love that we had/have for her mother, her father, herself, or her siblings... it was brave... I watched her and her siblings say good bye to the woman in their life who had been such a huge part of them... and there was nothing I could do to make it easier... the physical pain I felt in my heart for them... was real... I hugged Jill again... her older sister as well and asked her sister to keep an eye on her and to let me know if she thought Jill needed something... I opted not to go to the burial or to the gathering afterwards... again, selfishly, I couldn't...

I got into my truck and could not wait to get out of the parking lot of the funeral home.  and as I drove away my eyes burned with tears... and I found myself driving to the cemetery... not the one in which Jill's mother was to be buried... but to the one in which my mother is buried...

I had only been there once since she died... and at the time I remember her stone being so much darker than the ones next to it... because it was new... she was newly deceased... it has... weathered... more gray than black now... more similar to the stone of her mother and step father's stones right next to hers... Her name... the dates of her birth and death... and written on the bottom of the stone it says wife of my father... standing there... at my mother's grave after watching my friend say good bye to her mother... was so hard... the feeling of loss was overwhelming... and I noticed that a few stones away was the gravestone of a woman who was the mother of two girls I played basketball with in high school... a woman who died since mom died... also too young... I stood there feeling angry... still not understanding why... after Jill's mom's funeral I overheard two people talking.. one the man who did the service and another, I believe one of Jill's relatives... saying that it is part of God's plan... and that at some point the reason for her leaving would become clear...  as I stood at my mother's grave I thought about that and was so mad.. because there is no reason.. there is no plan that is under the control of any God... I am glad the idea of God is comforting for some people... but for me, it isn't... there are days... and Saturday was one of them... where it feels like I have lost my mother all over again... and I hate it... I know grieving is a process and at some point we are supposed to get to acceptance, but I will say there are times I remain in the anger phase of grief... and feel the biggest loss of my life almost as if it was happening again... what kind of being or 'god' would want that for people... perhaps some would say that the pain reminds us of how much we love someone... the love I have for my mother needs no negative reminders...

This is a picture of my mother's grave... from afar... her's is in the center with a purple corr made of fake flowers... to stones to the left of the American flag signifying my grandfather's military service.


 I wondered who put the purple cross there... and a weird feeling of being territorial came into play... Part of me wanted to rip it form the ground and throw it away... but know whoever placed it there did so from a place of love... I felt the need to pull away some of the grass and weeds that had begun growing too close to Mom's stone...As I touched her stone, clearing away some of the grass, I wondered how often Dad stops here... and while I know he is happy with Betty... I know he also misses Mom and because he is who  he is... I am certain he still checks on her... and most likely ensures that the stone is well kept...  and the image of him there... looking down at her grave... breaks my heart into a million pieces... I am so grateful that he has Betty and that I have Betty... but, even as she understands, that does not take away the pain...

I stayed for a while... at mom's grave... not like one of those movie scenes.. I did not lay on the ground sobbing... but stood there... tears streaming down my face... after a bit I tried to compose myself... then said goodbye to her... her grave  and went to the grocery store... as I promised I would pick up a few things from there for Dad and Betty.  I am sure I looked... bad... I am sure my eyes were red and puffy... but I managed to get what I needed and headed back to the lake...

I dreaded walking in and talking about the funeral... I knew Dad and Betty would wonder how it had gone.. how Jill was doing and how I was doing... I pretended to be okay and they pretended not to know that there was no way I could be... I put away groceries, changed my clothes and went out on the lake to kayak ...

That was probably the best therapy for me... paddling... peacefully... alone... with the water... the sounds of the loons... people's voices from the shore as they enjoyed their camps and families... I got some quality time with some loons... and for that I am grateful... it is those moments where I feel close to Mom... am reminded of our relationship, our time together, and in those moments know I do not need other people to experience similar pain in order to remind me of the love I have for my mother... The time on the water calmed me down, significantly...

This is the peace I found on the lake...


 If I believed in angels (I believe in angels more than I believe in God...) ... I think this one is laying on its stomach, resting on it's elbows...

Some blue sky between the clouds...











I had been fairly close to one of these loons and the second came in for a landing... after landing they did a bit of a dance for one another... it was fun to watch... 






There is a mystique when it comes to loons.. their calls... their red eye... their feathers which resemble rubber... they have grace and beauty combined with clumsiness when trying to transition from swimming to flying and back again... I was grateful for their company and distraction... and they helped me find some peace... 


When I returned to the house for dinner I was exhausted... we had a great dinner, spent some time visiting, and I headed to bed pretty early.  I was grateful that Dad and Betty didn't ask more questions about Jill...her mom... or her dad... or about how I was doing with it all, knowing, I am sure, how triggered I must be... The loons sang to each other as I fell asleep and were singing when I woke up in the middle of the night...

This morning I enjoyed visiting with Dad and Betty before hitting the road to return home... Dad is taking care of Betty as she recovers from a recent surgery and as always, goes above and beyond in his care giving...

To my dear friend Jill... I cannot take away your pain... I cannot make things feel better... I can tell you that there will be moments where you will feel as raw as you felt this weekend...and you will need ways to take time to remember the times with your mother where you felt joy and peace...

I wish I had better advice my friend... wish there were things I could say to make it easier.... I do promise you this... I will be a better friend than I have been... I am here... when you want someone to be here... and I do know there is comfort... sometimes guilty comfort, in knowing that someone truly understands... I know this will bring you and your hubby closer as well as he too, unfortunately, knows this pain...



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