Saying Goodbye…

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. 

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4 Responses to Saying Goodbye…

  1. Cindy says:

    Oh, what a hard day for you, love. I am so very sorry. Praying for resolution for all of you.

  2. Trudy Kelly Forsythe says:

    Sending prayers of strength for you, your family and your mom in this journey, Megan. May you all find peace soon. Trudy

  3. Megan says:

    Thinking of you.

  4. Lisamac says:

    The week before my mother-in-law died of cancer, we had a birthday party for her to celebrate her 77th year. She was still lucid enough to create the guest list and was firm and clear in her wishes. My mother, who had a become a good friend since my marriage, was included. Others were most emphatically not. Birthdays were not my mother in law's favorite thing, so this was a significant exception. Our chance to say goodbye.On the day of the "party" we threw open the doors to the formal living room, with the velvet sofa and chairs, tiny, decorative tables and the Aubusson carpet. As we made our way upstairs a few at a time, the rest of us sat and *gasp* ate and drank in Mary's favorite room, the one that held all of her treasures and had been blocked off from day to day life by 2 sets of French doors. My daughter's favorite memory of her grandma is playing in the special room with grandma. As we took our turn to say goodbye, there was comfort sitting in a room that was so special to her.We had no funeral. We had no visitation. We had no mass. We had only the party. That room is closed again, and holds the urn with her ashes. Although it's been discussed, I suspect the burial won't happen until we bury both Dave's parents. For now, she is surrounded in death with the things that meant the most to her in life.Hugs

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