Goodbye…part 1.

The day my mum told me she had cancer I knew she would die. It hit me, I felt my chest crushing beneath me. It’s weird, how you can feel like that yet nothing does hit you. But it happens.  I knew she wouldn’t survive. And even though I knew that, her actual death still makes me feel so empty, so alone and so upset. I will never get over it. It doesn’t get easier despite what they say. You learn to live with it. Well you try. But no, it never gets easier. Never hearing my mums voice telling me she has a cold, or moaning she’s tired breaks my heart. I’d do anything to listen to her moan. Listen to her gush with love over her grand-kids. And I quite envious of those when they moan about their mums. I’d really do anything to have my mum back.

About 2 weeks before she died, she said she was going to a hospice to get 1 to 1 care that you can’t get in a hospital. She tried to convince us anyway, I knew she went there to die. I knew she’d never leave there alive. I accepted that. I thought I did. My sister and brother never did, not till the day before I think it was. The day before she died I mean.

I still remember the first time we went to the hospice it was a surreal feeling. We met my brother there, and we went in. We told them we were there to see Roberta. They told us where she was and as we approached the person they said was our mum we called the nurses back “Er we’re here to see our mum, that’s not our mum” I still remember the feeling when they said that was our mum. How could that person be her, it didn’t look like her. Her hair was all but gone, she had aged about 40 years, she looked so frail. Writing this I feel sick, I can see it over and over in my mind. But she was our mum, and she needed us, like we needed her. We spent a few hours with her. She kept slipping into moments of memory loss. Or saying stuff that didn’t make sense. She turned to me and said “I was watching tele last night Kirsty at the front door” then in the next breath said “There isn’t even a TV in here, so I didn’t watch it, why did I say that Kirsty?” We did laugh a few times that day. 24th August. When she turned to Kyle and said “You heard from that poisonous little dwarf?” that’s the name she gave Kerry. My brother’s wife, thankfully my mum died never knowing my brother married her. I think it would have been horrendous for her. So I am pleased she never knew. That’s another story but some of you do know about the PLD.

I didn’t go and see my mum on my birthday. Terry her husband sent me a text from her phone though to wish me happy birthday. He said he held mums hand to type the message which made it more special.

My sister never came to see mum on the Sunday, but I went along with a few of my mums sisters. From Friday the 24th she had deteriorated so much. She was no longer conscious. I knew it wouldn’t be long so I said to my sister and my brother that they both had to be there the next day.

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