Sunday, April 05, 2009

I Miss Her So Much

This post is depressing, you might want to skip it. I just came back from the cemetery and my feeling have to come out here since I can't let them out anywhere else. I know two people really close to me read this blog and I recommend that you both stay away from this post.


Mom, I know how you loved flowers. I still can't walk by a stand in the city and not want to buy you a big bunch.

When I look at my students, I always remember how proud you were of me when I used to meet you in Flushing and we ran into the kids I taught. Their warm words always warmed your heart. I'm so sorry I never brought you with me to work. I remember telling you to get better and I would bring you to school. You never did get better. You would have loved being in the classroom with me.

It shouldn't be this hard. I'm an adult, with adult children, a wonderful husband, two terrific kids, a great dad and a job I love. But, Passover is approaching and I still miss my mom so much, it hurts.

Passover was always a very special holiday in my house. We cleaned the house thoroughly. We got rid of all our Chometz and got out the special dishes, silverware, pots and pans, reserved for use this week only.

When I first got married, we celebrated one night in my parents house and one night in mine. I never minded the work. I loved the traditions. As the years passed, and my mom's health grew frail, we celebrated both nights in my home. The work was out of control, but I never minded. I treasured every minute with my family and my friends.

Seven years ago my mom was in the hospital on Passover. Although the food was good and the company great, I had a terrible time. It wasn't the same without her and my dad. I consoled myself with the thought that next year she would be better and be back at the table, and she was. We had another few years of celebrating the seder together. Then, she started feeling sick again. I remember my brother-in-law calling me into the kitchen and telling me he thought this would be her last Passover. I wanted to slug him. I couldn't believe he would say something so cruel, especially in my own house after he feasted on my cooking. He wasn't being cruel, though. He was being straight out honest. Mom didn't come back night two. She didn't feel up to it. We carried on without her and then brought leftovers to her another night during the week and did the best we could to celebrate again.

The first day back to work after the break my phone rang at 6:00 AM. My dad spent the night with her in the emergency room. I took off from work and ran to the hospital. When I got there, she didn't look so bad but little by little she deteriorated. By the time she got into a room, she was barely conscious.

Over the course of the next few weeks, she went from bad to worse. Aside from her physical conditions, her brain started failing. She hallucinated. She lost control of her bodily functions. Her kidneys failed. She needed a minor operation to drain some blood that was in her brain. She did not want it. We badgered her into agreeing to it. For anyone in good health, the surgery would have been minor. She never woke up from it. When the doctors wanted to disconnect the tubes, my sister fought for a tracheotomy and a feeding tube. Eventually, we had those removed and she died within hours, peacefully in her sleep.

While she was going through all this, I didn't think about her. She was in the hands of G-d and in the hands of good doctors. I focused on my dad. He was the one that needed me and I didn't have enough strength for both of them. I wasn't the good daughter I should have been. I let her down at the end.

Mom, every dish I prepare, I prepare thinking of how much you enjoyed it. I think of how proud you were of the table I set and the family I raised. I pray that there is some way you are watching us and still enjoying our Passover seders. Mom, I can't cry because if I do, daddy will cry too and he does enough of that without me egging him on. Mom, I know you always told me that death was part of living and that we all would be gone one day. I just wasn't ready to lose you. I don't think I ever could be ready.

16 comments:

Anonymous said...

You really touched my heart with this post. My youngest niece and nephew are feeling the loss of not having my parents share in their joyous moments--weddings and births and since their own mother is a mess, the loss is more profound.

I remember bringing Christmas Eve dinner to the hospital. I had a local Italian restaurant prepare the meal for us and I bought holiday dishes, napkins, folks, spoons, etc. and place mats. We were going to eat in the cafeteria, but when we got to the hospital, my dad had a setback, so I had to set up the little hospital tray for him and us and tried to make it as festive as possible.

The loss of my Mom just before the Thanksgiving/Christmas holidays was worse.

We are not ever ready to lose them.

Schoolgal

17 (really 15) more years said...

PO'd- I know that your mom is somewhere, looking over you, and is as proud of you as ever. You didn't let her down at all- you were doing exactly what she would have wanted you to do- you looked out for your father.

I understand about the crying part. It is seven years since my father passed, and if I let myself cry, I think I will never stop. Just do your best to focus on the happy memories.

I'm sending you a big BIG hug.

zman said...

When my grandfather died I thought for the longest time that I was a horrible grandson (Being that we were so close) that I was never there always out thinking of myself. Then i realized that I did the best thing I could..I was there at the end , I held his hand and said goodbye. Its tough I understand but you did not let her down, you were there for her praying and making plans if she we to get better. Remember the good times..show your children life through the eyes that your mother would...my sincerest sympathies...Zman sends

care020 said...

I didn't know your mom and I don't know you personally, but I am sure you mother would have been proud of you being there for your dad during that difficult time. She wasn't able to be there for the man that she loved and raised a family with, but you were.

Chaz said...

Its always tough to lose a loved one.

Grammatically Delicious Designs said...

I am so sorry. I haven't lost my mom, so I am not going to say I know how you feel. But just know, that I am thinking of you in ND and praying that you will find just a little peace. God bless.

Danielle

nbosch said...

Nobody told us when we were young that after our children grew up we would be taking care of aging parents, it adds a whole nother level to our lives. As I near retirement I think if I live to be as old as my mother I will be retired for almost 25 years, as long a time as I have worked. I'm sorry for your loss.

Son of Pissed Off said...

I am sure you have never let Grandma or Grandpa down in your entire life, and you have never let your children down either.

CaliforniaTeacherGuy said...

How can you get ready to let someone you love go? I don't know of any easy way--and that, I think, is why G-d gives us the power of memory. May this Passover be filled with good memories of your mother. (And have a good cry or two in secret, away from your father. It'll do you good. Tears are so healing.)

Pissedoffteacher said...

Thanks for all the kinds words, especially you, Son of Pissed Off. I never knew you felt that way.

Ms. Tsouris said...

Your mother must have been a wonderful woman to have had such a bright and feisty yet down to earth, warm and loving daughter. As for me, I miss my father making those somewhat inappropriate slightly off color jokes before the seder and then falling asleep and missing the conclusion. It was all so valuable because we all felt that this seder or birthday or Thanksgiving could be his last, so we enjoyed the fact that he could also enjoy the holiday in his way. I treasure the memories, even if they come at a price: that painfully gnawing feeling of deep loss. Thank you for sharing this time with us, POd. I'm happy for you that your children appreciate all you are and all you have done.
Ah zeisin pesach!!

Mrs. T said...

Just thinking about losing my own mother makes me feel as though my heart is being torn from my body.
Son of Pissed Off's comment brought a tear to my eye.
I hope you and your family enjoy your time together this Passover.

Anonymous said...

I think I cried harder when I saw the comment from Son Of Pissed Off. I lost my grandpa in September. I still think about him almost every day. He was a great man, and I am sure your mother was too. Hang in there during this time and enjoy the holidays. She's with you, you just don't see her. :)

Ms. George said...

I'm not sure what made me cry more, your loving words or those of your son. Beautifully written.
My beloved father died on the third day of school this year. I know he 'rallied' for the day it took me to go back home from his nursing home bedside to meet my students for the one day, their first day. He was a NYC teacher for over 40 years.
We can only hope we make our parents proud every day in the classroom and out. I will say a prayer this week for your family.

Anonymous said...

I am in tears reading your post. I can only imagine what you're going through not having you mom around...I am super close with my mom and I can't even imagine what would happen if I lost her.

Pink Floyd said...

I must admit, it was sad being in your class when this moment in your life was going on, but I want you to know that you are an amazing person and you're an amazing daughter and a devoted mother.

(sorry I haven't been keeping up, I'm catching up on your old posts. See? Hope to see you in Packemin soon!)