|My momma at 18|
|Me in my early 20's. We are definitely related.|
After we shared my lunch, like we do many days, I began to peruse my Google Reader.
|My dad and mom in the early days of their relationship, so 1975-ish?|
I found this post on a blog that I just added recently. There were instant tears. Instant. Not because I had lost my mom as well, obviously I hadn't, but because of everything I've gone through with her. Many of my childhood memories are set in a hospital. Either it was me (um, hello, I've had stitches multiple times and was in the ER enough that I was questioned by DFS haha) or my momma.
I will never forget the day that I ran into mom and dad's room only to have my dad stop me and say that she was too sick, that she couldn't walk, that we were taking her to the hospital immediately. She was so pale and could hardly open her eyes to even look at me. The next few hours are a blur - I don't really remember driving to the hospital or waiting there for the doctors. I remember seeing my dad get teary eyed for the first and only time ever. I remember blurry faces running around. I remember wondering why we went to Fayette Memorial instead of Clinton Memorial. I remember my dad and the nurses telling us to say goodbye to my mom because she was going to another hospital via ambulance. I remember my dad holding me up next to the gurney because I was too short to reach over and give her a kiss. I remember she tasted like bubblegum (the kind nurse said it was from the morphine they gave her). I remember looking up and watching my dad lean down and kiss her forehead. I didn't know when I would see my mom again. I didn't know if I ever would see my mom again. I understood the idea of death and funerals, my great grandmother had passed away a few years before, so my young brain knew there was a chance I wouldn't see my momma anymore but I still didn't know what exactly was going on.
My mom had a Fem-Fem that day, her femoral arteries were blocked and the only way to fix it was to build a bypass around the blockage. It wasn't the only surgery she would have when I was a kid. We would find out that my mom has a blood disease that causing totally random blood clots to form at random points in the body. This can be something as simple as bumping a table, getting a bruise, and getting a blood clot. That blood clot can move, it can go to the brain, it can go to the lungs, it can go to the heart. It is completely unpredictable. That is scary. Any time my mom gets sick, it is scary because I don't know if it will suddenly get worse. As a teenager, I would back talk and give attitude and then instantly feel guilty because that might have been the last time I spoke to my mom. When I lived alone, I would not answer my mom's calls for a day but then feel guilty because that might have been the last time she could have called. She asks me to do something around the house now and I get annoyed, and then feel guilty because I should be helping her. But, I also come home for lunch a lot so I can talk to my mom at the table. I ask for advice. I try to make the most of every holiday and birthday now. When my mom is sick, I try to help her as much as possible. When she had her last bypass surgery and was in the ICU for like 4 times as long as most people, I would go to work at the Credit Union all day, drive the hour and a half to Chillicothe to see her in Adena until visiting hours were over, drive to the farm to make sure dad was ok and eating and taking care of the animals, then drive the hour and 15-ish minutes back to my apartment in Kettering only to do it all over again the next day until she went home.
Having a sick parent doesn't make me a saint by any means. I'm not trying to prove how great of a daughter I am. I just wish people that are mean or give attitude to their parents think about what life would be like if they were not there. I saw a random picture on Pinterest right before Valentine's Day that said: "So, you don't have a Valentine on Valentine's Day, some people don't have a Mom on Mother's Day or a Dad on Father's Day." I wish more people would read this statement. I wish more people would think about this statement.
I know my mom is always going to be "sick". I know there will always be the fear of the worst happening. I also know that I will never be prepared for her to not be around. I know that I will not be as eloquent as Mandy when that time comes. I will be a sobbing, snotty, uncontrollable mess. And I hope with all hopes in my heart that it doesn't happen any time soon.