I know that people face very difficult challenges in life all the time and for the most part, they are able to deal with it and move on. I guess I have done a reasonably good job of "dealing with it and moving on" because what else can I do? I cannot turn back the hands of time. I cannot change anything in the past. I can only hope to learn from all my experiences (both good and bad) and try to be the best person I can as a result of those experiences. Sometimes that works out ok. Sometimes it's really difficult. And, either way, I know that everything is relative: for every heartache I have endured, there are people who are suffering much more than I.
My mom died on November 8th. Although she had some major health issues, she had "beaten" the cancer. No one (or, at least, I) never expected her to just die so suddenly. My brother went to her house to pick her up for a medical appointment and she was gone...apparently she died in her sleep. I would like to think that she did not suffer. I would like to feel good that at least she didn't have a long, drawn out stay in the hospital. And, although that may be true, it really doesn't make it easier to accept. I still want her here! I still want to call her on the phone and tell her the latest things her grand daughters are up to. I still want to hear her laugh. I still want to hear her get all riled up when she played cards.
But the reality is that it had been a long time since the days when she could play cards, or laugh out loud, or get riled up. Most of the time when I talked to her on the phone, she said she was tired and didn't feel good. It got to the point where she really didn't have the energy to carry on a conversation for too long. That was sad. It made me avoid calling her, I am ashamed to say. I guess I was in denial of how bad her health had gotten (and I lived a long way away, so it's not like I could go over and check things out for myself). The last time I saw her was in June when Heather was playing softball in Colorado. Mom was too weak to make it to the games. That spoke volumes of how badly she was hurting.
So now I know she is not hurting or tired. She is watching over us all from heaven and I imagine she can dance and run and play cards and do all those things that she enjoyed but wasn't able to do for a long time. Now she will have a front row seat at all the girls' softball games. She will also be able to see what a lovely young adult Hannah is. I know that is all fine a good and well.
But I still miss her and (I know it's selfish) I still wish she was here.