This is Me, Emptying My Mind

I am on my way to Richmond, it's 7:20am, Hurricane Sandy is approaching the East Coast.  It is almost the one year anniversary of mom's passing and I am going to see my dad and go visit mom.  Robby is driving and I am watching out the window, looking at the thick, dark clouds this "nor'easter" is bringing, the changing leaves on the trees, the deer in the fields and thinking about mom's last days, and writing down all of these thoughts as we drive.  This will be my blog post.  Not a pretty one or happy one.  But this blog started as a place for me to empty my thoughts out into the universe, and this is one of those kind of posts.  So please, bare with me.

This would have been a Friday last year and I would have been on my way to work, so happy it was Friday finally and looking forward to spending the weekend with my boys.  Mom would have been home, having dropped dad off at dialysis.  Probably reading the paper and having some coffee, enjoying some alone time.  Or did she have a feeling her days were nearing an end?  Could she feel the clot forming in her brain which would soon explode, causing so much damage instantly that she would no longer know how to breathe on her own?  Daddy said she did a lot of extra cleaning those last few days, fretting over small things and needing everything to be perfect.  So typical of her if she thought people would be coming by the house.  Their house is always clean and picked up and super organized, but daddy said she was really going over and above normal.  Why?

I am perfectly aware that it is morbid and of absolutely no use for me to dwell on these types of thoughts, but it is how my mind works.  And NOTHING can make it not work this way.  It is where my mind goes when I am not occupying it with some other productive thoughts.  Riding in the car is the worst!!!!  The 45 minute drive to work and then home from work and this 2 hour and 15 minute drive to Richmond.  My mind is free to think about anything, and this is what it thinks about.

I don't remember if  I talked to mom that Friday or Saturday.  I do know that I spoke to her on Sunday evening, as did Evan, Trevor and Robby.  Mom sounded tired, but not alarmingly so.  I remember after she died, I kept asking Robby if she sounded different to him?  Did she say anything strange or unusual?  Did I miss something in her voice that should have let me know that something wasn't right and I should have done something?  His answer was always the same, "no."  But how could she have been 12 hours away from dying and us not know it?  How could she not know it, or did she?  Was her head hurting and she wasn't saying anything about it?  I have SO MANY QUESTIONS and NO ANSWERS!!!!! That makes me crazy.  I have always had a knack for figuring things our, investigating and snooping around until I find out what I need to know.  But that is useless in this case.

As we are driving, I am looking up to the sky and wondering if mom can see me looking for her?  Can she see me writing this all down and does she see that when I have dreams with her in them, that I can never see her face?  I just know the person in the dream is her.  Why when I was in the cave in Montana, was that the only time that I could see her completely?  She was right beside me, resting her head on my shoulder because she is shorter than me and her arms were wrapped around me.  Holding me so that the black darkness of the cave would not frighten me.  Why is that the only time in a year I have been able to see her face?

How does my dad wake up everyday and want to go on?  His life consists of dialysis 3 days a week and then being home alone, for the exception of my one brother who comes over on his lunch break 5 days a week and another brother who comes once a week and the occasional visits from my other brother and I.  We both live 2 1/2 hours away and don't get home as often as I am sure we would both like to.  How can my dad bare the evenings and night time?  Where does he find the strength and desire to want to go on?  I admire him so much for carrying on though I know his days are tough and very hard on him.  I talk to him twice a day because it is all I can do, but it's not enough.

I can't help but think about my nephew who I will see today.  He came to Richmond on that day with his mom and dad.  He was only 15 at the time and he had to be there with us in the hospital, in mom's room, watching a machine breathe for her while we waited for my dad to return from his dialysis treatment that had been put off for 10 hours.  All the while knowing that when his Papa came back, we would be taking his Nana off the machine that was keeping her body alive.  He had to watch his dad, his uncles and his aunt go through the pain of losing their mom.  Me, the aunt he associates with happiness, silliness and laughter, unable to do anything other than hold her mom's hand, caress her hair and beg her to please open her eyes and not leave me.  No 15 year old should have to witness all that, but he never said a word or left the room to be alone.  His courage and strength was steadfast.

So, now I am here.  I find odd comfort here.  I wish that I lived closer because I would come visit everyday.  I could sit and talk to mom for hours.  I never get to come by myself to see her and just sit and talk about my life and thoughts.  I have new flowers to put on her marker for the Fall and the one year.  We will all come back here together today to do that.  I really wish the sun would shine because it is so pretty here when the sun is out.  The birds chirp and fly from tree to tree, the ducks fly onto the pond and an odd peace comes over me.  But on days like today, there is just gloom and darkness.  I can't come back here on Wednesday because I will be back at home and at work.  My mom lost her mom on October 31 also, 10 years earlier.  I wonder if October 31 of some year is when I will see the both of them again.  Maybe that will be the day I get my answers.  Or maybe then, it won't matter anymore, I will instantly understand it all.

I love you and miss you with all my being.