The day has finally come today it’s mums funeral, I say today as it’s 1:21 in the morning and I can’t sleep, so technically it is today. But, when I finally sleep I pray mum comes to me in my dreams again. It’s been comforting the last three nights as mum has been in my dreams, she appears as she was before the illness showed through, and gave her the glazed dazed look. Instead she’s younger, smiling but doesn’t talk, I hope that will change.
For tomorrow her funeral will take place at the crematorium, I don’t think there will be many people, a few family members and a couple of my friends. It sad that at the end the mourners are few, but that’s due to age and our transient life. Both Kim & Jazz are reading poems, I would have liked to but I think I will be an emotional wreck, so my super daughters in-law have stepped up in the true Mrs Jones style, bless them I love them both dearly.
I hope Seb is not to upset as I know he loved mum so much, Alex will keep his emotions tucked away to be played out in private, but I know they loved Boo as much as she loved them.
Give me strength tomorrow to breath ....... and be the best daughter I can be, and do mum proud.
Love you mum xxxx
Wednesday 20 December 2017
Monday 11 December 2017
Time runs away
How many times do you hear people complain that once they retire they just don't have enough time, well Im totally in agreement, so much for ladies that lunch, shopping trips idling round craft makes, its full on. Not once have I sat on my bum and watched loose women, not a bad thing you may think but that was my plan. So whats happened since I last managed to write anything, soon much.
Another sad time
Well so much has happened since my last blog, yes I know it was over two years ago but I’ve been busy. Cycled from Lands End to John O’Groats, became a grandmother twice, and looked after mum.
And that’s were I’m at now, mum passed away yesterday Sunday 10 December at 9:50. It was horrific and touching all in one. Let me explain.
I had a call that mum had a chest infection and the doctor agreed not to give her any antibiotics and let the infection run it’s course, as this was mums will, no medication once she was at end of life. Not easy to choose this route, but it’s what she wanted, and to be honest she had deteriorated so much. Most of the time she was in a doozy state, yet sometimes yelling incoherently. So this was a positive step in the direction of her finding peace. How could I not support that?
So on last Tuesday I was told it was getting near to the end. I moved into the nursing home and slept in a chair watching over mum, holding her hand, moistening her mouth. It was comforting to know I was helping her but horrific. Her breathing was erratic, noisy and laboured. Her mouth became dry, cracked and bleeding, her tonge became as dry as a crisp, and she made the most horrible gurgling sounds. Oh my poor mum, at times when she looked at me through her watery glassy eyes, with no life in them, the sparkle had gone. I will never forget that look, a blind pleading stare, begging for help. Well that’s how I comforted myself believing she was looking forward to a peaceful passage and an end to her suffering. At night her breathing was loud, laboured and haunting, I can still hear it when I lie in my bed, while I wait for each breath, not knowing if there would be a next.
By Saturday night she was fading, all the grandchildren, children and great grand children and Dad gathered in her room. I felt she enjoyed the throng of the sound of family chatter but became agettated, her breathing became noisy and rapid, so I asked everyone to leave. During the night her sounds became louder, I knew she was slipping away from me.
In the morning her face looked haunted, hollow cheeks, sunken eyes and a waxy glow about her, but her hands were so hot. I held them tight and stroked her face. My fingers felt the outline of every bone on her face, she was fading fast. The radio was playing love songs, songs she would have liked. When the song golden slumber came on I dissolved into tears, choking back my sobs I said I loved this song but it always made me cry. At that point tears rolled down her cheeks, it was as if she too could hear the lullaby and shared my sadness. She then took her last fleeting breath.
That morning it snowed, the first time in years, and so heavy Richard couldn’t be with me for three hours. So I sat next to mum. She was laid out on her bed becoming colder and colder, her face growing paler and paler. I watched her, I couldn’t believe she had gone, I was sobbing so much and through my misty tears continued to tell her how much I loved her.
Now I’m alone in the night, can’t sleep, the darkness and silence makes me relive the horror again and again. My emotions are shattered into tiny shards of varying feelings from guilt, love, sadness, anger and loss.
I’ve lost mum twice, 5 years ago to dimentia, when the illness really showed its ugly face. And now.
Oh how I long for this to be over, but how I’ve longed for the end to come.... to give mum peace and end the suffering. To release me from this turmoil. But I’m not sure I’m strong enough to live with this pain..... I know it was only yesterday and time heals, but it hurts really hurts.
Oh mum I love you, please don’t let me forget, but rest in peace xxxxxxx
And that’s were I’m at now, mum passed away yesterday Sunday 10 December at 9:50. It was horrific and touching all in one. Let me explain.
I had a call that mum had a chest infection and the doctor agreed not to give her any antibiotics and let the infection run it’s course, as this was mums will, no medication once she was at end of life. Not easy to choose this route, but it’s what she wanted, and to be honest she had deteriorated so much. Most of the time she was in a doozy state, yet sometimes yelling incoherently. So this was a positive step in the direction of her finding peace. How could I not support that?
So on last Tuesday I was told it was getting near to the end. I moved into the nursing home and slept in a chair watching over mum, holding her hand, moistening her mouth. It was comforting to know I was helping her but horrific. Her breathing was erratic, noisy and laboured. Her mouth became dry, cracked and bleeding, her tonge became as dry as a crisp, and she made the most horrible gurgling sounds. Oh my poor mum, at times when she looked at me through her watery glassy eyes, with no life in them, the sparkle had gone. I will never forget that look, a blind pleading stare, begging for help. Well that’s how I comforted myself believing she was looking forward to a peaceful passage and an end to her suffering. At night her breathing was loud, laboured and haunting, I can still hear it when I lie in my bed, while I wait for each breath, not knowing if there would be a next.
By Saturday night she was fading, all the grandchildren, children and great grand children and Dad gathered in her room. I felt she enjoyed the throng of the sound of family chatter but became agettated, her breathing became noisy and rapid, so I asked everyone to leave. During the night her sounds became louder, I knew she was slipping away from me.
In the morning her face looked haunted, hollow cheeks, sunken eyes and a waxy glow about her, but her hands were so hot. I held them tight and stroked her face. My fingers felt the outline of every bone on her face, she was fading fast. The radio was playing love songs, songs she would have liked. When the song golden slumber came on I dissolved into tears, choking back my sobs I said I loved this song but it always made me cry. At that point tears rolled down her cheeks, it was as if she too could hear the lullaby and shared my sadness. She then took her last fleeting breath.
That morning it snowed, the first time in years, and so heavy Richard couldn’t be with me for three hours. So I sat next to mum. She was laid out on her bed becoming colder and colder, her face growing paler and paler. I watched her, I couldn’t believe she had gone, I was sobbing so much and through my misty tears continued to tell her how much I loved her.
Now I’m alone in the night, can’t sleep, the darkness and silence makes me relive the horror again and again. My emotions are shattered into tiny shards of varying feelings from guilt, love, sadness, anger and loss.
I’ve lost mum twice, 5 years ago to dimentia, when the illness really showed its ugly face. And now.
Oh how I long for this to be over, but how I’ve longed for the end to come.... to give mum peace and end the suffering. To release me from this turmoil. But I’m not sure I’m strong enough to live with this pain..... I know it was only yesterday and time heals, but it hurts really hurts.
Oh mum I love you, please don’t let me forget, but rest in peace xxxxxxx
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