Letting Go

I had no idea that Halloween would be the last holiday I would spend with my mom.  I vaguely remember it.  It was a Friday.  I carved a pumpkin on the kitchen floor while my mom watched Regis and Kathy on TV.  They were having a Cher look-alike contest.  Later that night I went out with my friend Nicole.  That's it.  That's all I remember.  I had no idea that a week later my mom would be gone forever.  

She went into the hospital Monday night because she was having trouble breathing.  She had pneumonia.  It was a result from the radiation treatments they had been doing on her chest area.  We visited every evening that week and on Thursday night when we left the hospital, it was a snowing and oddly peaceful.   The next morning I went school and was on my free period when I saw my dad walk in the building.  He didn't see me so I went to him. He says to me, "Les, your mom requested a morphine drip and the doctor said that if she goes on it she'll fall asleep and probably won't wake up."   My heart started pounding and It felt like I had a huge lump in my throat. I ran to my next class to tell my teacher I wouldn't be in class.  I started crying as I told him " I won't make it to class today cause my mom is dying.".  He told me to calm down and wanted to make sure I wasn't driving myself.  I assured him I wasn't and left.  I cried most of the way to the hospital.  

When we arrived at the hospital there were no close parking places so my dad decided to try the valet parking.  Unfortunately there wasn't a valet there to take the car and as we were about to pull away my brother opened the door and asked me to go up with him.  He didn't want to go up by himself and I didn't either, so we went up together while Dad parked the car.  

Grandma Helen, my two aunts Dana and Jenette, and Jenette's friend Fred, were all in the room with my mom.  I immediately started crying again and after hugging everyone, I went over and held my mom's hand.  She had and IV in her arm and an oxygen mask on.   

My mom kept calling for my dad because she wanted him there when they put the morphine drip on.  He showed up and so did my Aunt Jill and Uncle Phil, but it seemed like an eternity before the nurse came in and hooked up the morphine drip.   After the nurse left, my Aunt Jill went over and held my mom's hand.  She opened her eyes, looked at Jill and said "goodnight".  I broke down in tears once again and kissed her on her burning hot forehead.  

The morphine didn't work the way Mom wanted it to.  It took away the pain, but she still couldn't relax enough to breath easier.  So Dana stood by her side and talked her through some relaxation techniques.  After a while, the doctor came in to see how she was doing  and then told the nurse to give her a shot of something to help her relax.  I don't know what it was but it helped and she was finally able to get some sleep.

Friends and family came and went, each of them saying their good bye's. Mom woke up enough to see some of them and I'm sure she knew the rest were there.   At one point I went with Dana to the gas station across the street from the hospital.  We kicked through the autumn leaves that were on the ground and even though we were sad, it was fun for a moment.  

After a while some of the crowd left and we all relaxed in the quiet.  All I could hear was the bubbling water hooked to the oxygen and an occasional person passing by.  I memorized the signs on the door and above her bed.  They were bright yellow and read:  Do not use right arm for BP, IV, or LAB.  Around 10:00 pm I left with my brother to try and get some sleep.  We went to his friend's apartment because it was closer to the hospital.  Dad and Grandma stayed with Mom..

After watching a couple movies I fell asleep on the couch.  About 5:15 am on Friday November 7, 1997 the phone woke me up and after fumbling around in the dark I found it and tossed it to my brother's friend to answer it.  It was my dad telling us to get to the hospital because she had passed just five minutes earlier.  We were the first to get there.  

At first I didn't want to go in the room so I waited in the lobby area while everyone else went in.  I was afraid to see what she looked like dead, but after people telling me that it looked like she was sleeping I decided to go in.  The oxygen mask and IV were gone and she looked so peaceful.  She was no longer struggling to breathe and the room was so quiet.  After her siblings got there, we all gathered around her bed holding hands       

and the chaplain said a prayer while we wept.  Then we said our good bye's and left.  

Dana stayed behind to watch over the body until they took it away.

I remember being so tired and relieved.  I didn't want her to be dead but after fighting cancer for two and a half years it was good to know that she would no longer be in pain.  Thirteen years and nine months later I miss her just as much as I did that day and it still hurts like hell.  I've just grown used to it.