One Year Ago Today

So, this post has been a long time coming. The words have rolled around in my head for months...not sure how to get out. Greiving can be a long and hard process...and sometimes you still grieve even after you think you're done. I think that has been my problem. I'll start at the beginning.

Exactly one year ago today, September 13th, at 6:30pm I received a call from my father. I was holding my then 3 year old daughter. His words were something like this, "Everything is okay, and she's going to be fine, but your mom is in the hospital. It's no big deal." I wasn't concerned at first, he said she was fine. "Your mother's had a heart attack" (I swear it just took me two minutes to type that and I have tears in my eyes). Of course, I said "What?!" and tears filled my eyes. My body physically went weak, and I had to tell my husband "take the baby", and I practically dropped her as I handed her over (she was 3 after all and not a baby). It turns out that my Mom had some chest pain earlier in the day and then her jaw started to hurt. She was short of breath and her chest felt heavy. She recognized the signs right away, and asked my father to quietly take her to the Emergency Department. My brother was living at home at the time, and he thought they were just going out for a walk. By the time they arrived at the Emergency Dept. the pain had subsided and she felt fine again. Of course, they rushed her in and put her on the all the usual machines and ran the usual tests. There was no damage to her heart and everything seemed normal. Just to be sure, the Emergency Room doc (who told my mother, "you won't even be staying the night) called on a locum who is a Cardiologist at his "real" job in Calgary. This guy wasn't with my Mom 10 minutes when he told her "you have the Aortic Valve of a 90 year old" and then things started happening. They were sending her for test after test and she was being admitted.

You have to understand something about my Mom and I. We are so very much alike it hurts, and like any good kid, I try so hard not to be like her because everything I dislike about her is what I dislike about me. On top of that, we sat beside eachother 5 days a week, 8 hours a day at work. I see her 3 - 4 days a week when she's visiting my house and my kids...it would probably have been cheaper if my parents just moved in, but I digress. My mom was such a big part of my life...I saw her and talked to her every single day, about everything.

About an hour after my Father called, I went to the hospital to visit my Mom. Now, I hate hospitals as much as she does, so this was doubly bad because I was visiting my Mom. I brought her a Green Tea. I felt so useless and silly, she'd just had a Heart Attack and I was bringing Green Tea. My brother was there, but quickly left. My dad hung around for a few more minutes too, and then he left. They moved Mom to a "holding area" for people who were waiting for rooms. She looked the same as the last time I saw her, just the night before. We chatted normal chat, about how my Dad was going to be a basket case, and what kinds of things I would have to take care of at work on Monday because she would be off for a few days and silly things like what did the kids do today. And here is where my life changed.

I had to leave.

I have never felt so alone in my life...like things would never, ever be the same...like I was losing something that I couldn't get back...like I didn't have a choice.

I had to walk away and leave my Mom alone in that hospital. I couldn't fix this. I was a good kid, I was strong. I didn't cry. But damn it, I hurt. My whole body hurt. I felt lost.

They kept my Mom in the hospital for 2 weeks and then a week later we flew to Toronto and she had her Aortic Valve replaced. I remember my husband asking me why I had to go. My Dad was going with her. Silly as it sounds now, I needed to be there for my Dad. When they wheeled her away from us and into surgery I chickened out and went the bathroom. I couldn't even look him in the eye...he was bawling. That made me cry. So, we cried. He admitted that it was the first time that he cried about this whole damn situation. I admitted that I cry every time I'm alone...in the van on my way to work...scrapbooking...doing laundry...on my way to pick up my kids...on the airplane on the way down...I had spent the last 3 weeks crying. I was grieving. I had lost my mother, as I knew her, and I knew it.

This post is a long enough, and I'm tired from crying...I'll continue again another day. Thanks for reading.