2 nights before my mother died, my husband, my father, my brother, my sister, a trusted friend (who is a doctor) and i sat in the den (in my parents' house) talking about my mother's fate. all seemed resigned to her dying. imminently. all except me. in fact, i think the reason for the meeting in the den that night was to somehow get me to let go of my mom.
and our friend the doctor listened to my explanation of why i thought we could stop the progression of the disease. he listened to my non medical opinion of all the ways we could try to reverse what had happened to her. and then he debunked my theories one by one, lovingly. assuring me that we did nothing wrong in how we cared for her. and i can pretend that after that meeting in the den, i understood and i let go. but that would be a lie.
i didn't let go until my mom did. and i am still not at acceptance. crazy.
8 months later (march 8th will be 8 months later) i am looking at pictures from that time. and i came across one of my mother and me. this was about 2 weeks before my mom died. (while i was NOT believing it was the end).
denial does remarkable things to one's mind.
some days the denial is still here and it tricks me into not remembering, not thinking about her, not wondering where she is now that she's gone.
but other days, i can't stop thinking about my mom.
today is one of those days.
here is my mom early on in treatment...laughing with my sister and me.
i think it is better to focus on the happy memories.
far less haunting although just as sad.
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