I said goodbye to my mother tonight.
She’s not there… not really. The brain tumours and morphine has taken the essence of her, only a confused shell remains. Still there was something poignant in actually saying goodbye.
I feel like in some elemental way she is already gone. There is still life in the room above me but only in the very basic sense. There is a ring that she told me I was to wear after she is gone. It is her engagement ring and she has worn it all my life. Now, my finger, the one destined for the ring feels bare. It feels like the ring… the one that will always connect me to her… is missing, yet I’ve actually never worn it. It feels like her time has past but no one has told her yet.
I’m living in some kind of limbo… like this is purgatory. I’ve never believed in the concept but this certainly seems like the temporary time of punishment about which many have preached. The world stands still while we suffer. This purgatory where my mother can’t be moved without moaning in pain, where she can’t actually move on to whatever is next, where the ones she love live in pain without any real ability to grieve and adapt. I want her to go to whatever awaits but suffer through this temporary hell with her.
The wind of another winter storm howls outside yet inside the air is still. Even though I’ve said goodbye, we’re all waiting for forgiveness of unnamed sins. We’re waiting to let go.