I had no idea that 2006 would bring down to my knees and that the new beginning that I was so hopeful for would be delivered with a life shattering blast.
My 10 year marriage had come to an end.
Unlike other marriages, my ex and I didn't have a lot of hatred towards each other. There were no serious infractions like affairs or violence that brought us to divorcing. It was more of a drifting apart, a parting of the ways and two years prior to deciding to divorce we'd lived like room-mates.
In January 2006 we got a legal separation.
The toughest part -
I was the one who had to leave our home that we'd lived in for 10 years. My ex's family owned the house and as many times we had started the works in buying it, the fact is that we never did, so I was the one who had to leave.
I left my youngest son, who was 9 years old at the time, at the house with my ex.
It was the only home he'd ever known and being I was only financially set to rent a room from some friends rather far from the neighborhood where all my son's friends were, it was the best choice for him.
Leaving my son and the house I'd made into such a beautiful refuge of a home for all of us those 10 years was very, VERY hard.
Following me during this trying time was a dark and serious cloud -
in December 2005 I was diagnosed with cancer, (cervical).
My DR was getting exasperated with me as I kept putting off surgery to tend to the tough details of my impending divorce. She began calling me incessantly and finally, after I'd left my beloved home to move into a room with friends, which I did in February, my cancer surgery was set for March 26th.
Recovery
The surgery went well, (it was day surgery), and they "got it all". But no way was I prepared how incapacitated I would be in the days and weeks following.
My 85 year old Mother, (who lived In Medford, Oregon), had called me before the surgery insisting that she drive up to Seattle and help me out. I declined, telling her I'd "just fine" and promised to rest up and no over-do. I was positive I'd be up and right as rain in a week or maybe even less.
Well, nothing could be further from the truth.
My recovery was painful, tedious and exhausting. I didn't have much help either and my Mother's intuition to come out and help me was right on the mark, (as usual), but I never told her of the terrible pain I was going through. When she would call to check up on me I basically lied to her and told I was fine and on the mend, getting better every day.
What really floored me were two major infections that I ended up with while trying to heal. I was taking super strong meds to battle the infection and the severe pain. It hurt to sit, it hurt to lay down, it just HURT!
Period.
You'd think with 5 children, 4 of them grown, that I'd be mobbed with help.
No, that wasn't the case but I only have myself to blame in that. Like with my Mother, I told my kids the same thing - "Oh, don't worry about me, I'll be fine!"
And that's what they figured, that I was fine and on with their lives they went.
There was one crucial event that took place while I battled the infections and pain -
I signed the divorce papers.
My ex brought them over and being we'd sat down in February before my surgery and decided item by item what we wanted to gain and share in the divorce, (it was very amicable), I trusted that all was in order and in favor of both of us - very 50/50.
I signed the divorce papers the first week of May a little over a month after my surgery.
Mother's Day came and went in a blur that year.
I was still suffering the painful effects of the infections and wasn't up to anything, but did spend the day on the phone with all my kids. My oldest son, Douglas called and offered to take me out to an early dinner. I passed on his generous offer as I was just too uncomfortable to go anywhere. I have come to regret that choice more than you could ever imagine.
There was one thing that was rather odd that Mother's Day -
my Mother hadn't called me that morning, which was her usual practice every Mother's Day and when I called her there was no answer. I was a little bit bothered by that, but figured she had her new husband had gotten together friends to take a road trip or something. One thing about my 85 year old Mother, she was the picture of health!
She walked 2 miles every morning, golfed avidly and was on a water volleyball team.
Her energy and vitality was endless! Most people guessed her age at 65, NOT 85.
Finally late that evening she called me.
It was a short conversation and her voice was weak, sounding far, far away. She told me she'd been on a trip that day, (as I figured she was), with her husband and friends. After traveling for hours and hours in the back seat of a car she was exhausted and couldn't wait to get into bed. She wished me a Happy Mother's Day, thanked me for the flowers I'd sent and told me she loved me.
I hung up from her missing her more than usual and tears came to my eyes.
My Mother was my best friend in the whole wide world and my blessed Angel on Earth.
Mother's Day was on May 12th in 2006.
By Memorial Day weekend, the end of May, I was feeling better but still battling infection and I was getting cabin fever being stuck in the room I'd rented at my friend's home.
I decided I need to get out and be a part of the world again and after one of my after-care check ups with my DR I decided to take myself to lunch and so a little shopping.
My plans were a bit too ambitious and I only made it to lunch and made a quick run through the drugstore. I just wasn't well enough and once I got home that afternoon, I had only the strength to flop on my futon and fall into a deep, deep sleep.
My cell phone sounded hours later waking me with a jolt.
It was my middle son. He stammered through some idle chit chat regarding nothing specific and I finally asked him to tell me whatever it was he was working so hard at NOT telling me. My words to him were followed by a long silence and then a big sigh.
"Mom", he said, "Micha got hit by a truck today,...he...he...he didn't make it"
Micha was my big and beautiful 2 year old Chinook Sled dog that my oldest son was keeping for me. I wasn't able to bring him to the house I was renting a room from and my ex already our other two dogs, (a springer spaniel and a mini doxie), so my older son took him in being he was renting a house with a fenced in yard. Some friends of his came by to visit that day and left the gate open.
Whatever new-found strength I thought found that day left me as my heart broke over the news of losing Micha.
Not actual pix of my Micha-
but these are identical to how he looked.
I took the loss of Micha hard and felt quite guilty over his death. My son, Douglas, who was taking care of him for me was also consumed with guilt since Micha was in his care. But accidents happen and I never blamed my son or his friends that left the gate open.
It's NEVER easy when we lose one of our four-legged kids, but in time we do let go of the grief and embrace the happy memories our pets gift our lives with.
Enter June
Right after Mother's Day my Mother and her husband flew to Germany with a group of friends, a trip she had been looking forward to for a long time.
I didn't get any phone calls from her while she was there but the post cards she sent me delivered me smiles and I was so happy that she was able to go to Germany and from all she shared in her notes on the post cards, she was having the time of her life!
She got back June 5th and called me the next morning on June 6th.
I don't think I've ever heard her sound so tired, (jet lag I assumed), and she also told me came back to the states with some a real bad "tummy problems".
She chalked it up to the German food and all that goes with traveling out of the country.
I agreed with her, but it worried me. When I was 16 she almost died from a bleeding ulcer. But that was quite a long time ago and her stomach hadn't given her any trouble since.
The women on my Mother's side were blessed with good health and they lived a long, long time - most till they were in their late 90's. My Mom was 85 and healthier than most women in their 50's! I wasn't used to her having health problems so her not feeling well upon returning from Germany worried me and I told her to call me that night.
And she did call me, not feeling much better. She assured me she was "okay" and just needed to get some good sleep and recover from her trip.
June 9th
I got a call early that morning that my Mother has collapsed and that "it was bad".
I was told I needed to get to Medford, Oregon ASAP!
Not knowing what was happening I made the 9 hour drive to Oregon.
I found my Mother in a hospital bed, (in a medical unit in the retirement community she lived in), and I rushed to her side. She looked at me with relief in her eyes, comforted that I was there. She could barely speak or hold her head up but she gave me a puzzled look and said, "Can you believe this?"
No, I couldn't believe it and my mind was reeling with fear not knowing what was happening to my beloved Mother. Her husband, a wonderful man that she had married 4 years earlier, sat next to her bed holding her hand. His daughter and husband were also there. I didn't know them well, but found their gentle, kind demeanor to be very calming.
Nurses were coming in and out, friends of my Mother's popped in quietly with shocked looks on their faces and all I could do was look at my Mother and tell her everything was going to be okay. Finally a DR came in and asked me to talk to her outside in the hallway.
I don't remember the DR's actual words but what she told me was the worst news I have ever gotten in all my life.
My Mother had cancer, pancreatic cancer that had spread to her liver, gall bladder, colon and part of her stomach. There was nothing that could be done, my Mother was dying and they gave her 48 hours to live.
e.
No comments:
Post a Comment