Wednesday, January 25, 2017

The Final Hours

Its 3:26 am on January the 14th 2017. I'm sitting in a hospital waiting room waiting, not so patiently, for the MomUnit to pass. We took her off life support at 8:00 tonight. She's being her typical stubborn self. We've all told her she can go, but something is still keeping her here. The doctors say it won't be long. UPDATE: 5:19am: Just went back to see mom. She's still holding on.

The family and friends have come and gone. Each saying their personal goodbyes to a woman we all loved so dearly. She truly knew no stranger.

As a family, we've spent the last 3 days sitting vigil by mom's side. We literally "took over" this waiting room and had, at one time, 20 people standing around talking to each other. People from differnt arms of mom's life. All here with one very sad purpose, to say goodbye.

Mom was never alone in the back until we all left for the night - usually around midnight. During the day, someone would be back there just sitting with her. Just showing her the love we all felt for her.

And now? Now it's silent. Just me and the tapping of the keys. It's too quite and now my brain has started to think. And I find myself starting to do what I do every time I'm about to begin something I know nothing about.

Truthfully, I'm a procrastinator when it comes to doing a task that I 1) don't know how to begin and 2) really don't want to do. And the task in front of me, closing Mom's estate - fits both those criteria.

So I start researching. Typing into the Googles "checklist to follow when a loved one dies". I'm not sure why I think there's a "manual" for this, but sure enough...there are tons and tons of sites.

And as  I sit here with my clouded brain just glancing at the pages, and nothing really sticking I find that my thoughts travel through my life with the MomUnit.

I thought, "What's my first real memory of Mom?" Do you have one of your mom? I have a few jumbled memories which I'm not sure are "real memories" or memories given to me by photos or stories. I can't really pin point the first. Instead, many more come flooding in.

March 1985
We're leaving Quartz Hill to drive to Seattle Washington. We're moving...again. I'm 16 years old, leaving all my friends and the boy I was sure I was going to marry. We danced, ONCE, to Careless Whispers and I made it "our song". He, of course, had no idea.

Pulling out of the drive way I asked mom if I could put in a song. She said yes. As the opening chords of Careless Whispers begins I burst into tears. I cried for the friends I was leaving and my "one true love." I cried and I cried.

I rewound the song and played it another 150 times crying each time on our trip to Chowchilla (stopping to see the grandparents).

EVERY time either mom or I would hear that song we'd call each other and say, "Listen!"

April 1986
Mom met me in Geneva. Dad was already in Saudi and she was going to meet him there. I had already been at TASIS for 4 months and we were all flying to Saudi. Mom and I were in a hotel. It was about 2 am in the morning. Mom got up to pee and couldn't turn on the bathroom light. She woke me telling me this...and said, "Mom, they're sleeping."

Why she and I giggled like school girls over that I'll never know.


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