Tomorrow will be the first anniversary of my mother's death. I am in surprisingly good shape. I even listened to Mariah Carey's Christmas album on YouTube today and sang along with the carols.
It is strange that my mother is no longer on the earth. She had a number of conditions going on with her when she died, but it was still unexpected. She died at home. We had had a very good Christmas Eve day. She ate all of her favorite foods, absolutely slaughtered me in a game of gin rummy, we watched a great football game, and she watched a marathon of Andy Griffith, which she loved. (I started to type "loves," but I can't do that because she is no longer here. Strange.)
She died a little after one in the morning. One minute she was here and talking and forty minutes later she was gone. She didn't say anything. She just slipped out of this world into the next. My second oldest sister and I were here caregivers and we broke down at the same time when we realized that mom was dead.
I don't allow myself to think of my mother very often because the memory that comes to me when I think of her is of the policeman and my brother pulling her out of her bed onto the floor and beginning CPR on her, then the medical team that came and began working on her. They gave her CPR for half an hour before they pronounced her dead. I couldn't believe it. I was sitting there waiting for her to open her eyes and start fussing at my sister or me. But she never opened her eyes again. I can remember laying on her belly and holding her hand as we waited for the coroner. So I don't allow myself to think of her very often. I tell her that I am not going to think about her. That I am going to think of other things. And so I do.
I didn't know how I was going to be today. But I am okay because I have a personal relationship with God and He is my rock and my strength and His love gives me the joy and the peace to continue this life with a contentment that is difficult to describe.
I thought I should join a bereavement support group because I do not have anyone other than my sister to talk to about my mother's death. It's like I am in two worlds. The world without my mother and the one where I know she is dead, if that makes any sense to anyone. I am not sure if it makes sense to me. I mean, I am happy as long as I do not think of mom. My sister and I talk about her every once in a while. We still can't believe that she is gone. I have a hard time saying the words "she is dead."
Maybe I am not as "okay" as I think I am. As I am writing this post, I am starting to experience a sense of sadness. Maybe I have been in denial this whole year. I don't know. All I can see is her lying on the floor with the plastic thing in her mouth that they had the breathing bag connected to.
I am grateful that my mom is no longer suffering. That she is in heaven with her own mother, who she dearly loved and missed so much whille she was on this earth.
I can't believe that I will never see her again. I just can't believe that. My dad died in 2010. So now I am an orphan at 49. How strange. How very strange.
I feel tears in my eyes. I don't know where they came from. I don't cry. But maybe I will tonight. Maybe I will.
I have a friend who is going through a terrible situation with her ex. I don't know how to help her and it is becoming extremely taxing on me. I think she might be getting blackmailed into a sick criminal organizatioN. I don't feel safe to help her right now because I have heard her true story and it seems like she is in too deep. I could be wrong but it feels like law enforcement is not doing...
I am a retired pschotherapst and a recovering PTSD surivor. As I experience the aging experience I am also experiencing PTSD issues. I believe the aging process triggers PTSD symptoms . Vulnerbility is the culpret. We are somewhat physically impaired and become more dependent on other to meet our challanges that come with the aging process.