I had a few minor setbacks mentally and physically recently. I spent a month out of work, went to a PHP program and got myself back on track enough to at least function day to day. I'm waiting for a grief group to start the first of April near me, it sounds like a really great one that is in depth and not just a bunch of bullshit. The Gilchrest one is wonderful, but not enough due to the time restraints.
February 8, 2016 came and went. It was a pretty warm day considering that it was February, aka scary weather month. The sun was shining, the clouds were white and puffy, and the sky was the usual gorgeous blue. It had rained and we had a blizzard a few weeks before, so the ground was a total mud pit. I got soaked sitting on my towel next to the headstones. Across the street, they were burying someone in a vault, so we watched that. Terri, Kelly and I met up in the early afternoon to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of Ruthie's passing. We decorated her headstone and played music. We talked about how much we missed her, and other various memories. I didn't sob and cry; I tend to not do that as much when I'm not alone. Its easier to do when I'm alone.
I still have a lot of anger towards ALZ. I hate the disease. I hate that I don't know my Mom as my Mom--I know her has someone who died from ALZ. I feel so many emotions and so many feelings that I can't even express them all. For me, they come out differently and maybe in a less mature way then my siblings. For me, it affects my work, my daily motivation, my habits, everything. More on that later.
One year ago that day we lost Ruthie; I remember it very clearly seeing her in her hospital bed. She was so frail. That horrid breathing at the end was enough to scare the pants off any person who had never been in a nursing home or around a sick person. I missed the last breath, and I'm ok with that as I've said before. I had my time with her before everyone got there that Sunday. I also spend part of Saturday evening with her. I spoke to her, I sang to her, I told her everything I could think of in those last fleeting moments. I held her hand, I kissed her repeatedly, I rubbed her shoulder and arm; I thought to myself: "How in the world can I be losing her? It's not fair!" How is it fair? I'll never know. Maybe I'm not meant to know.
When we all gathered and were sitting around her room waiting for that moment, it felt just like old times...in that when the times get rough or something that affects one of our parents, us kids always rally together. Now that my Dad is gone and the estate is about a week or 2 away from being closed up, I'm afraid we won't be rallying for much anymore. I could be wrong and I hope I am. But the memories I have of us, even during the bad times of the deaths of our parents are still precious to me. I felt almost equal to everyone. I felt like I had a part in all of it.
Sunday 2/8/15 at 4:20pm Ruthie passed away. She was called to Heaven, they Angel's came and took her. We had a Priest come and Daddy was there, we all held hands and said the Lord's Prayer. My Dad said goodbye to her privately; I did snap a picture or 2. Since Ann wasn't there yet, I wanted her to see them. She was appreciative of that. Walking out of Harmony Hall for the "last time" (which it wasn't) was odd. I told Mary that I was so thankful to have her in our lives since she was such a calm, sweet and loving person. I actually hugged her too. Same with Andrea Koeppel. They aren't Eastman's by birth, but they are forever part of our clan.
The weather magically warmed up--it was at least 55 degrees with no wind. It had been bitter cold most of the winter already. The sun came out, and it was such a feeling of relief that the Angel's came. We got my Dad and ourselves home. I don't remember the exact details after that as to what we did; I do remember that night when I was getting ready to go to sleep I had this sickening feeling come over me of the loss. I knew it would hit me that night since its as the first night in my life without my mother. Again, I can't describe this feeling; it was so many feelings and emotions rolled into one that even if I wanted to, I couldn't describe it.
The anniversary of that day has come and gone for the first time. Since it was a Monday, Kelly and Terri took off work. I took off from the PHP program. The brother's did not; I don't know if they did anything privately or just went on with life, which is perfectly fine. I know they thought about her, and I know they are grieving in their own ways. I know Uncle David had to have thought about it too. I'm sure a lot of people in Ruthie's life thought about it, maybe not that exact day, but around that time they did. I made sure to post a few things on Facebook in her honor.
I just hope we don't forget to honor her, and her legacy. I hope that I as her youngest and most able-bodied one can somehow be part of the movement to find an end to the suffering that ALZ patients endure. It is the least I can do. I feel like it is something I have to do. Donating money is fine; but donating your time and effort and making a small dent or large dent in the movement is something I need to do. I just have to figure out how to do it.
I read a poem about having 2 mothers and some other readings at her funeral. I could have read for hours about my love for her. I was limited of course. The song I picked was "Somewhere Over The Rainbow" by Israel Kaʻanoʻi Kamakawiwoʻole. I had my Aunt Susie on my left and Travis to my right. I squeezed Aunt Susie's hand as I silently sung along with the song, tears streaming down my face but I was smiling. You can't help it, it's such a sweet song. Our theme with my Mom and her sister Joan is this song. I would like to incorporate this into some type of tattoo but I'm not sure exactly yet. It will take a lot of artistry by someone to come up with exactly what I want. (This isn't a simple one like my Boston "B.")
It snowed the night of her funeral, on Valentine's Day. It was a wicked windy, snowy night. My Dad was so heartbroken and exhausted I don't know how he got though it. I'm glad he got to see his little sister, since it turned out to be the last time he ever did.
When I talk about my Mother, I remember her smile; the look on her face when she was just content and thinking about whatever it was that she was thinking about--pre-disease and during the disease. Sometimes she'd just look at us and smile. I struggle with not having her here physically. I have struggled so terribly that I couldn't concentrate at work or at home. I am learning how to manage these feelings, and the grief group should help. And, as this blog is titled, the running. That will help tremendously. But it has to be at my lake, when the weather is warm. Thats the only way I can do it. Its almost that time of year, so Ruthie get ready to push me. I love you.
Will you stay with me? Will you be my love
Among the fields of barley?
And you can tell the sun in his jealous sky
When we walked in fields of gold.
I never made promises lightly,
And there have been some that I've broken,
But I swear in the days still left
We'll walk in fields of gold.
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