One Week Later
You are darlings. Thank you for your kind emails -- they mean the world to me. They ARE hard to read sometimes, though, because you're SO nice, so you understand why I closed comments on that last post. Would have made it too easy for you to be kind, and I just couldn't bear all that. The emails were wonderful, though.
It sucks. That's what it comes down to. It just sucks. I've hit a point where I have decided bed is the best place to be. The memorial is this Saturday, and I have to go back to work in another week, and I'm looking forward to rejoining the human race. However, for now, while work is paying me to be bereaved (a civilized idea, really), I am lying in bed all day, knitting and watching ANTM and Brothers & Sisters on the computer. Brothers & Sisters, a fine show, is very hard to find illegally on the internet, so hard that I have LEARNED HOW TO TYPE IT IN CHINESE. Or at least, I've figured out what it looks like and then I have copied and pasted it into Chinese TV sites, and voila! There my season 2 episodes are! Free of charge, subtitled in Chinese. A valuable talent, I know.
THINGS I HAVE LEARNED THROUGH ALL THIS:
1. Family is all-important, and I have the best one. I hope you think I'm wrong, that yours is the best, but I'm not wrong. Even missing the sun of our solar system, the planets are still spinning (I almost minored in astronomy -- I understand the physical implications of that and I'm ignoring them for the sake of the metaphor) and there is much, much love. So proud of them.
2. Sorrow does not preclude joy. That one's a shock -- I didn't expect to laugh on the very day she died, let alone every day since. I'd been so lucky that I'd never suffered a major loss until I was 35. But I thought when it happened it would change me, make me into a sorrowful person. No. It's made me sad, and at the moment, depressed and lethargic and only able to identify with stupid TV, but I'm still me, and I still take delight in the same things I always have. They just have a low-pitched humming underneath. Salted caramel ice cream is still so good I want to cry, only now sometimes I do.
3. Greeting cards. Let's talk. This is something I didn't know, and it seems so obvious, but Lala says she didn't know it either, so maybe you don't. Now, I'm only talking greeting cards, not the lovely emails and comments I've received from you, my readers. Internet notes to friends online who have lost a loved one (or are going to) -- you've done everything right. Even the ones earlier that didn't quite understand Mom was dying (and how could you? I was vague on the point for a while), those made me feel loved.
But the mailed cards. Oy. It got to a point where we screened every card, and only read Mom the good ones, or left out the maudlin words as we read. We stuck the other ones up on the wall, but only after we showed them to each other and rolled our eyes. So many wonderfully-intentioned people wrote treacly cards, invoking the Lord's mercy, telling Mom to Feel Better! The Lord has a plan! Get Well Soon! Listen, if the family has invoked the word Hospice, the patient WILL NOT GET BETTER. You telling us miracles happen in a Hallmark font does not make us (or her) feel better, it pisses us off.
You know what helps? A card, written by hand, remembering things. One of my aunts wrote, "I remember when Danny brought you home. You were so beautiful, and you both sat on the porch and sang the washing-machine song, and the shearing song." Another friend from New Zealand wrote, remembering Mom's "beautifully fringed eyes and abundant hair," and the fact that no matter how hard she studied, she could never catch up with Mom, always head of the class (natch).
Mom loved this kind of card, called them the most Christian of the bunch, and smiled when they were read to her. And we loved getting them, hearing about her, people remembering specific, wonderful things about her.
So when you write these sympathy cards, if the person is on hospice, just recall the good things, the things that make that person unique and special. Send them love. Later, to the family, write more memories, of funny things that happened, or things specific to a time and a place and a person. People will be so grateful. We were.
4. Wacky Hijinks! Lala does everything she can to cheer me up, including what she did at 3am this morning (which was exactly one week to the hour since Mom died, but I didn't realize that then).
She normally sleeps like a rock, so it startled me when she sat straight up in the dark. She said, in an alarmed voice, "UH-OH!"
I sat up with her and said, "What is it?"
She said, extremely worried, almost panicked, "I can't see!"
I reached behind me and turned on the light.
"Oh!" Ultimate relief in her voice. "Wow!"
I laughed so hard that I had to put my head down, but apparently that sounded like crying, which confused her, and then her look of confusion slayed me even more. Good stuff. She doesn't remember a bit of it this morning.
5-100. I have learned way more than this. But I'm done typing. Valuable ANTM time is slipping away as I write....



XOXO
Posted by: Shannon B | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 10:33
You're grieving but you're healing, too, even if you don't know it yet. You'll learn to live with this loss but there will be moments of extreme sadness while you do. I'm thinking of you, my friend.
Posted by: Carole | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 10:33
It's good to hear your voice again, Rachel. I'm very sorry for your loss. Your eloquent writing about your family's journey has been both moving and informative. Thank you.
Posted by: Rhonda from Baddeck | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 10:34
LOVE you, girlie. Lala, too.
Posted by: caroline | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 10:37
Knowing that your family is wonderful is about the best thing you can hope for from a situation like this.
{{{{{hugs}}}}
But my family's still the best. :)
Posted by: Janice in GA | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 10:55
big virtual hugs and may we someday hug in real life :) i am glad you are home safely.
Posted by: Inky | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 10:57
So, does LaLa have a sister? A gay sister that happens to live in Washington state? Or how 'bout you just clone her? I'm single and would love a LaLa of my own! :)
Big hugs sweetie.
Posted by: Carry | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 10:58
Thanks so much for the advice about what to send a grieving family. It's great; so helpful and specific, and I usually have no idea.
I am so sorry for your loss, and hope you are feeling better soon.
Posted by: Andrea | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:00
I totally expected to cry through this whole post, but no... you made me smile. Your amazing.
*hugs* *hugs* *hugs* so many hugs I can't even type them all here in this silly little comment box...
Posted by: jessica~ | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:06
Hugs and loving thoughts to you and your family. Your helpful advice about greeting cards etc is very welcome - it's tough for people who have no experience of terminal illness and bereavement to know what to say and your comments really help.
Allow yourself a bit of self indulgence and take care xxxxx
Posted by: Denise | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:09
A few weeks after my father died, I dreamed that he called me. I had all these questions I needed him to answer, but what he told me was that he was so proud of us, of how we were taking care of my mother, and of each other. And how he was so proud of all we had done to honor him, and how he was OK, and he knew that we would be OK without him. He could see that we were going to make it beautifully.
I didn't know your little Mama, but I know she must be so deeply proud of all of you for loving her so beautifully in her last days, and for loving each other and holding each others' hands on this journey through this terrible place.
There are no words, but Rachael, I'm so very sorry.
Posted by: Liz K | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:12
Number three is some of the best advice to the friends and loved ones of folks at the end of life I have ever read. Thank you so much for explaining that to so many people.
I am so sorry your wonderful Mom is gone, but so glad that you loved her so well, and she loved you so well, and that you have great memories of her to cherish.
Posted by: lanea | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:17
You're a lucky woman to have such a loving family. Truly.
I lost my mama when I was 35 too. My heart aches for you.
Posted by: Kathy | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:20
Hugs and lots of them to you and your family. Just take it one day at a time, and know that we are all here for you.
Posted by: Deborah C. | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:32
The memories are so important. It's what we all have to hold on to.
Remember, you don't have to say that you're doing fine when people ask. It's OK to say that you're not fine.
Much love to you, Lala and your family.
Posted by: Emma In France | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:40
So good to have a post from you, thanks a million. And thanks for the pointers as we sometimes forget when we go a while without a big loss.
I'm still sending virtual hugs to you and yours and I say get down with your grieving period from work. Knit, stay in bed, read, watch tv, blog, whatever the heck you feel like doing.
OH and I'm so glad Lala regained her vision!!!!!
Posted by: MX | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:41
Glad to hear you're hanging in there - and that bit of Lala's had me laughing, too. I think it's especially good to have loved ones around in times like this, and even more so when they can make you laugh for a bit.
Posted by: Kathy | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:53
Rachel, thanks for posting that about cards. What's Digit up to? Watching TV with you and holding your pattern steady? Don't forget to keep up with the LOLcats and LOLgoggies.
Posted by: auntiemichal | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:58
I'm so, so sorry.
And you're right on #1... but I *do* feel that way about my family too. And I'm right too. And we're both so lucky.
Posted by: Kathleen C. | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 11:59
Hallmark makes me so angry when it comes to "sympathy cards." I did the same sad hibernation when Nanie died last year. I still cry some days, am still angry, but less so now. I wish the same for you, in the right amount of time.
Posted by: TheBon | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 12:09
Missed you and Lala and assorted critters from your blog. Glad you're posting again. Your genius on how to get Brothers & Sisters is a stitch. Soooo glad you use your powers for good, not evil.
Even though you've been quiet here, we've been sitting with you, albeit from afar and online. Still are. And will keep doing so.
Peace,
b.
Posted by: Barbara | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 12:38
dear rachel,
you don't know who i am. i used to have a knitblog some years ago and i quit writing after my divorce - maybe at that time i wrote some comments and you happened to visit my site. but this is not important... i read your blog every day, i think since you started it.... and i developped a special sympathy for you, maybe also because you love venice and i was born and grew up in verona, italy, not far away... anyway, i was very sad last week as i read about your mom and...just wanted to tell you that i have often thought about you in the last days, waiting for you to post again.
anyway..not so important, i just wanted you to know that even someone who lives so far away (actually in germany) sometimes thinks about you. hugs, marta
Posted by: marta | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 12:41
Good thoughts and squishy hugs, on their way to you.
Posted by: Dani | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 13:11
The comments were closed, and I didn't send a separate email figuring that was just my way of making my own comment section...but I just wanted you to know that I've been sending a little love and light in your direction each day. Take care. ~bonnie
Posted by: TheAmpuT | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 13:20
You are absolutely right about the memories from other people. It's always neat to hear how your mom changed someone's life. Especially if you never met them before but they have this amazing recollection of your mom.
I'm so sorry.
Posted by: Nell | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 13:28
Lala is even cracking ME up. Goodness, that was funny.
Posted by: claudia | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 13:31
My deepest sympathy for you and your family.
I have been thinking of you every day and checking your blog to see when you were ready to be back. I’ve been trying to think of something to do that felt worthy of your request to do something in your May 27 "Peace" entry. Every time I’d think about it, I found myself being selfish, wondering how your mom raised her family to be so joyful and loving. Well it’s been three weeks and I just could not ever get away from that and finally decided that I'll try to be a little more patient; I rationalized that my whole family would benefit even if my motives began selfishly.
I’m glad you’re finding moments of joy in your sad days. I remember those moments when my mom died, I still grin at the thought of our outbursts of laughter through tears.
Posted by: KnittingInMind | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 13:48
My sympathies. Until you have gone through the loss of a parent it's hard to imagine what it's like. The thing I miss most is no one will ever tuck me into bed quite the same way as my litte Gran did. But no one will give me the same wonderful memories and stories, either. Hang in there.
Kate
Posted by: Kate R | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 13:59
Number 4 is priceless.
Still thinking of you all.
:)
Posted by: Micky | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 14:20
Glad you're back. We suffered a loss last week, too. Missed the memorial, and will have one of our own next weekend. They do help. Hugs and more hugs (since they help too)...
Posted by: Julie | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 14:34
I am so sorry for your loss, your occasional stories about your Mom were so sweet she sounds like she was a lot of fun. A week after my Dad died my Mom sent me to the video store to get movies, The Lost Boys and Dirty Dancing hold a special place in my heart they were stupid mindless escape movies that let us forget our grief for just a couple of hours. I mostly lurk and very rarely comment and have been thinking of you and your family for the last couple of weeks, have a peaceful, restful weekend.
Posted by: Toni | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 15:14
Oh Rachael. I am just so sorry for your loss.
Posted by: kathleen | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 15:38
Love to you and your family in this time of loss and celebration. It's sad to lose a mom, six months before I lost mine, two very dear friends lost their 19 yr old daughter. That's tragedy. It is sad to lose the mamacita you've known and loved all your life. You will miss her, but you will soon find that she lives on in you. You will hear her advice in your mind, feel her hand guiding yours when you cook; you will find her in your own voice when you are moved to offer some bit of advice she once gave to you. This is how we carry on our mothers' legacies.
Celebrate her life and her love for you.
BTW, a friend of mine was a hospice nurse. 50% of her patients actually survived the hospice period of 6 months. Some even recovered fully once they had pain relief and their families around them. My dad survived 8 hours after being signed in to hospice, but I knew he was that close to going before signing him in.
Posted by: Maddy in NC | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 16:04
As my aunt often says to me in the tough times, "I've had you in my pocket this week." I've been thinking of you often in the past week and have been sending love to you and your family. Take good care of yourself and keep finding the laughs where you can...
Posted by: Mandy | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 16:20
{{{Hugs}}}
Posted by: RandomRanter | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 16:27
Wow! So not the post I was expecting after ages away. I'm very, very sorry for your loss what I remember of you writing about your mom was always good. I'm sure you miss her.
I am glad that you're still able to laugh and smile and love. That is so important.
I remember those "God has a plan" cards from a few years ago when it seemed like every six months or less I lost a relative. I *hate* those cards. I *hate* the callousness that people have when they tell a grieving sibling, friend, relative "Well, God has a plan, everything happens for a reason." In their super cheery voice. No one wants to hear that (unless they're uber religious, I suppose), "I'm sorry" is just so much more... everything.
(((Hugs))) for you all.
Posted by: Lady Keetes | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 16:44
I deal with death almost every day at work. I see families who never seem to want to let go, I see families who are too eager to let go, and then I see families who, while saddened, are healthily assisting their loved ones with a gentle passing. It sounds like your family did a fabulous job with your mother, and it soothes my heart to see such a kind, gentle death. Blessings to all.
Posted by: ayla | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 16:59
Love ya - hugs to your whole family. Glad you're blogging again. I totally know what you mean about the greeting cards, and you are so right - the messages that mean the most are the ones that recall something wonderful about the person - a shared memory or such. The rest feels so insubstantial, it just doesn't matter.
Which is what life feels like "after" - losing and living and healing leaves you lighter - a lot of life's annoying stuff just falls away, and good stuff stays.
Posted by: Catherine | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 17:08
Of all the blogs I've spent time reading over the past few years, yours is the one that has touched me the most deeply. I know I speak for many when I say that I have laughed and wept tears of both joy and sorrow with you. You are such a remarkable woman with such a strong voice. I came here because of the knitting, but it is the warmth and wit that have caused me to stay. I am so sorry for your loss. After my beloved grandmother died a few years ago someone sent me this Dr. Seuss quote that actually helped me through some of the hardest times:"Don't cry because it's over. Smile because it happened." You are blessed to have such a wonderful family and we are blessed that you share so much of them with us. Thank you, Rachael.
Posted by: Eve | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 17:14
Welcome back.
Posted by: Monique | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 17:23
You're the best. My sister wanted to make the end of each parent's life a Hallmark card complete with scrolly font and flying happy @#$%^ing butterflies. I still miss my folks, and probably will for years to come, but... Thank you for sharing when it's appropriate and locking out our sappy hugs and comments when it's time.
Posted by: Kelly M | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 17:29
This weekend I'm going to be volunteering at a grief camp for children who have lost someone special to them this past year. It's sponsored by Hospice. I'm a "buddy" to a 9-year-old girl who's Grandmother died of cancer this year.
I know I'll think of you often this weekend, Rachel.
Posted by: Teresa | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 18:25
Glad to see you back! Love to you from Alaska!
Posted by: Suzanne | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 18:49
Thank you so much for #3. Who knew, and I have seen my fair share of death. (I mean, about Hallmark I knew.) Maybe it's a New Zealand thing, or a Herron thing, but I'm gonna make it my thing.
I wanted to send you an email, but you don't even know me and it seemed intrusive. But like other commenters I was hoping support for you.
Posted by: em | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 18:59
(((((((((((hugs))))))))))))
Posted by: Beth | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 19:09
Boy, I have missed your voice but have understood your need for some time away from the noise of all of us. I lost my mother to cancer nearly nine years ago, and although we weren't close at all until she became ill, I still feel the lack of her presence every day... especially those moments when I go to the phone to call her to tell her something you would only tell a mom and I realize I can't call her! But God has had a wonderful way of moving delightful women into my life to fill that void for me... my mom-in-law, my best friend's mom, etc. And while they will NEVER replace my own mom, I love that they each represent having a Mom still in my life. So, no, it's not easy. But I am so happy that you can feel both the sadness and the joy and that you have so many wonderful memories to treasure. Soldier on, carrying her in your heart and soul.
Posted by: Kimberleigh | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 23:26
Rachel,
I am glad to see you are posting again. I also spent my time in bed. Still wish I could spend my time in bed. It was nice not dealing with the world for awhile.
Thank you so much for you lovely email.
Mother's are special people. I was lucky to have the best mother in the world.
I'll be thinking of you on Saturday. We had a great send off for my Mother and I am so glad we could do it for her.
All my best to you and your Family.
Posted by: Dympna | Thursday, June 19, 2008 at 23:39
*Hugs* It sounds like you've got a great support network to help you through this time. I hope your wonderful memories will bring you comfort at this time. *Even more hugs*
Posted by: Jennifer | Friday, June 20, 2008 at 02:53
Will continue to keep your family in my prayers. I'm so sorry for the huge loss in your life. Do recognize that this exhaustion and need to take to your bed is just part of the cycle of grief. When my grandmother (whom I was very close to) died, I slept non-stop...it is a great form of escape.
Small steps...be kind to yourself and know that many of us are praying for you.
Posted by: Estella | Friday, June 20, 2008 at 03:42
{{{{{hugs}}}}}} from the ♥
Love to you + your wonderful family xxx
Posted by: Annarella | Friday, June 20, 2008 at 06:46