Yes. I do. I knew I would. Really? As if there were doubt. I am 43 years old and the only constant has always been my mom. So far, three weeks after her death, she is still a constant.
She used to blow up my phone. Always needing something. Tea, bologna, or ten other things on her general list to need and get me to come by. Anything, really, to get me or my sister or nieces to come by. Usually, again, just me.
Did I answer the phone every time she called? No, I didn’t. Did I turn the phone to airplane mode sometimes so I didn’t hear it ring? Yes. I did. Do I feel guilty ? You bet your sweet ass I do. Do I miss it? Yes, I do. I knew I would.
I didn’t go up to see her as often as I should have. I had the excuse of the kid, school, work, the animals, dinner..my life. I could have gone more often.
Yet, I didn’t. When I did, I felt guilty about not going to see her as much as I should. I felt sad to see her there. I felt guilty that she was there, knowing that she could be at home with us, but I could not deal and could not take care of her the way she did me for so many years. It wasn’t easy for her, and she did it, why couldn’t I? I felt sad and emotionally drained when I left there as I walked through the halls and saw where, not only she was heading, buy truly, where we are all headed, in someway shape or form.
I felt terrible that I hated to hear her talk because all she really had to talk about was how bad she felt, her meds, the nurses, the food…. and I really had nothing to contribute to the conversation cause I was not much better. All I had was basically work. I go to work, I go home, cook dinner go to bed. Day in and out.
I took her out some, but it was hard. Between the blindness, the getting sick every 5 minutes and the fact that I really did not have room in my car for her wheelchair…
I understood early 2000’s that the main responsibility would fall on me. We lived in SC when my dad passed, after that. mother was our responsibility, We moved to GA and she was now my responsibility. That was ok, The last 6 months of my dad’s life, my sister took care of him. I figured I would take over for a while…
Three years later, we moved to Washington State. On the totally opposite side of the country. With promises from everyone that they would take care of mother, we moved.and 1 year later, after 3 or 4 family members tried to help, she was back with us, in Washington State.She lasted about two years and her aunt in Florida asked her to come stay with her.
The last year we were in WA was I think the best she had ever been. She and my aunt got along famously. They took trips and had more fun as women their age could have.
Then we got the news that we were headed to Florida – the same town. We knew than that mother would be back with us. Within the next two years or so, the family who had promised to help out had all moved to Florida.
However, her care was still mostly on me, as it had been, and eventually would be, the better part of 12 years. In her final 6 years, her health began to deteriorate. Very quickly. There are as many funny stories as there are frustrating and sad. Again, though, mostly on me.
This is not a Oh pitiful me thing. This is how I have felt. In the end, it is about the guilt I have for not doing more. For not calling her more, for not visiting more.
For not telling her I loved her the last time I saw her. The fact that I was irritated the last time I saw her.
I miss my momy. I knew I would. I feel guilty. I knew I would.
I hope she knows how much I loved – love – her.