Tuesday, June 22, 2010

No laughing while Dying

My mom is in the hospital today.  She had back surgery that is pretty serious.  She has been all roses and happiness talking about it, trying to convince me or maybe herself that it will be the surgery of her dreams, an immediate end to the pain with no complications, followed by a glorious recovery where my stepdad will nurse over her intently, taking care of her every need.  I have been asking her to be realistic and at least envision the worst case scenario so she can deal with it if it happens.  She hasn't wanted to talk to me.  Maybe there's no point making her nervous about it, but she has a home business housed in the basement - if only from a business perspective, she needs to plan what she will do if her recovery takes longer than planned. 

I believe I love my mom more than anyone else in the world.  I have finally come to the point where I accept her as is.  I forgive her for things she did that hurt me in the past, and genuinely try to understand her.  I love her as is.  Yet I am at the end of the phone tree to get the information about how she is.  Worst yet, my husband took the phone call.  I didn't rate being talked to directly even though I care the most. 

My grandfather died at the hospital when I was about 20 years old.  He wasn't feeling well.  My sister and I were giggling, goofing around the hospital.  We heard a code blue overhead.  It was our papa, as we called him.  He was the sweetest man I ever met, rivaled only by my husband, who reminds me of him so much -well, except my grandpa was a quiet man, and my husband would never be characterized as quiet.  His volume is stuck on 80 decibels but I love him that way.  My beloved papa died that day while we were being complacent, at a time when it never entered our heads that he could die, that it was even possible.  I almost feel we were punished for not caring enough.  Not telling him we loved him that day.  I know we were just kids, but I wish I could reverse it, play back time, and do anything but laugh and play in the hallways while his heart stopped with no one he loved in the room, no one he loved aware he was gone.  I miss him so much.

I worry the same could happen to my mom today, obviously I won't likely be laughing, but I don't want to be nagging at my kids, or changing a poopey diaper while my mom dies.  She would think me dramatic that I am worrying about her dying today.  I think it's definitely a possibility any time you have surgery  She chooses to believe it's not possible.  That's OK if it keeps her from worrying I think.

My baby is screaming and my kids are late for piano class....


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