Yesterday, 2/8/16, marked the one year anniversary of Ruthie's death. At 4:20 pm so took her last gasp of breath. I of course missed it by about 30 seconds apparently, but that I am ok with. I had gone out to get food for everyone, as well as stop by the house and help my dad get ready to visit. My brother's brought him back to Harmony Hall and Travis and I went to Panera to get food for everyone. I got a call while we were about 1/2 a mile away from Mike saying "I think it just happened..." So we floored it around the corner and I went running into the facility and into the elevator. I ran down the hallway and if memory serves, Andrea (sister in law) was standing in the hallway waiting for me.
Just thinking of that building makes me sick. Not because it was a bad place. Its just that its the place my family experienced so much sadness. I think about the Valentine's decorations I put up, and when I had to take them down the day after she died. I still have them. I'll probably keep them forever, or until they fall apart. Remembering her laying in her bed with her snowman stuffed animal cuddled up to her face, while she was pretty much in a coma-like state; she was gasping and snoring loudly. She had slipped away; but her body was still trying to compensate. Diane Tolson stopped by and gave her a massage (she used to be a masseuse) and she actually got her to calm her breathing. It was really something, almost magical. It meant a lot to us to have her stop by and do this. I sat there with her until all of my siblings arrived. We didn't know how long it would be. I guessed it would be later that night. Boy was I wrong! I'm glad I was wrong, because she was suffering. She received Morphine from the nurse. But she looked like she might have been in pain. I kissed her forehead; I talked to her privately before anyone came, even the night before on my way to work when I stopped. She had told me 2 days before "I love you too, hunny!" And then she shut her eyes and I think that was the last time she spoke to anyone. I am thankful I got the last I love you. I am also so sad. So so so incredibly sad. It feels like there is life before she died, and now this life after she died. I feel so confused, so empty. SO EMPTY. I feel like a part of my heart left with her. I feel like it was ripped out. I am so mad at the disease. I am so angry that other people have their mothers. I am jealous, and I hate feeling that way. I hate seeing my sisters so sad. I hated seeing my dad so sad and lose his will to live as well. I hate knowing that she didn't get to see her family much in the last decade; I hate that she lost her memory and her ability to care for herself. I hate all of the times I lost my patience with her trying to take care of her and keep her safe. I hate that she was physically hurting at the end. I hate that she struggled with eating. I hate that she fell at the rehab, I hate that I left her in the care of that awful nasty woman who neglected her before we figured it out. I hate that her life had to end on such a depressing note. I hope that she is whole and healthy again in Heaven. If she wasn't, I don't think I could live with myself. I pray that she is ok up there. I can't stand the thought that she could be anything but ok now. I hope she is watching over us all too. Helping to send us in the right directions. Especially me, because I know that I am completely lost. I think I know what I am going to do from here on out, but I am scared of taking the leap.
It was so nice to see Uncle David and Aunt Karen when they came in from California. I don't think I've hugged a relative that hard as I did when I saw Uncle David after I got back to the house after picking up Aunt Susie from BWI. It was just so nice to have a part of my mom there, because he was the first and only relative to come from her side. That night we picked out the rest of the music for the funeral; throughout the week we had been doing things in preparation for that. We went shopping for new clothes; I had a hard time because I knew I was about to have surgery, and finding something that I liked that fit was difficult. I managed to pull something together. I even got my hair done, and I wore Grandma Vange's Valentine necklace too. We played beautiful music; I sat next to Aunt Susie and Travis in the front row with Daddy. Uncle David presented the flag to Daddy, which was really special. After I read my reading, we played "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and I held Aunt Susie's hand and we smiled at each other, because it was just enough of a break in the sadness to hear the music and I sang along quietly. It was one of my favorite moments from that day. Tons of people showed up, which was great since it was Valentine's Day. We got a snow storm that night, and it was the coldest day ever the following day. The wind howled and shook the house. But the snow was very pretty.
I was very distracted the following month due to having surgery; so the grief was a little easier to handle due to this. Also, spring was coming, and I always enjoy spring. I was enjoying the fact that I was losing weight; and also taking care of my Dad took up time and effort so we were able to handle it more so than if we had nothing to do consume the days time with.
Then my Dad died. Life changed so dramatically that day. It will never be the same. It will never feel right again. I will always feel robbed and cheated. I do feel the relief that he is no longer suffering. But I can't help but be selfish and feel like everything just got shittier and more challenging after that. My life will never be the same again. My purpose in life is no longer to care for them. My purpose in life has shifted back to myself, but I don't know what to do with myself. Well, I think I know; but it requires some big changes. Its all sort of a risk, its scary, and its different. I don't have a choice, I'm miserable doing what I'm doing right now, so if I don't change, I'll never move forward. And moving forward is the only thing that will keep me alive and keep me going. There have been a few days where I question why I'm still here; the pain is that great. What stops me from not being here are the people that love me. I have family and pets and a boyfriend that depend on me and love me, and to hurt them would be selfish and shitty of me. So thats the only thing that has kept me going for a while.
More to add to this coming...
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