My life has changed: Part 4

Part 4....

I'm telling y'all, being in that sanctuary for "my mom's" funeral and celebration of life was surreal.  It's still like a blur.  Again, I put on my happy face and hugged folks. The service was beautiful and point on regarding my mother.  My cousin sang two songs, one of which was "Wonderful, Merciful Savior".  That got me.  That one was of the songs we listened to every single day at the hospital.  The cemetery was tough.  Tough. Tough. 

We have worn "Keep the Faith" bracelets for over two years now for mom.  Those came off and were placed in top of her casket at the conclusion of the service.

We left and headed to my house.  There were 50+ people roaming around, eating snacks, and drinking coffee in my house. The majority left by 3:00.  My two best friends from high school came from Hattiesburg for the funeral and to spent the night.  That was some good therapy.  

So here we are now.  Today.  All the days since mom went to her forever home.  The rest of us are stuck here without her. I'm not mad.  I've never been mad that mom was sick or that she died.  I've been sad.  I've felt hurt.  I've wondered if God would heal her.  I prayed for complete healing a ridiculous amount of times.  She got it.  It wasn't complete Earthly healing, it was Eternal healing.  

The reality hasn't hit me.  I swear mom is on a trip and I can go see her or call her soon.   The first few days I found myself reaching for my phone because I needed to tell her something.  I told her everything I did.  She probably knew if I had just blown my nose.  Not talking to her is hard.  I sent this text to my brother the other day....

"I sure would like to talk to mom today.  I would tell her about all the people who loved her and came to the visitation and funeral.  I'd tell her about the flowers, the food, and the house full of people on Thursday.  We would talk about how Uncle Chico fixed stuff in the house, dad has been cleaning stuff out and his arm feels better.  I would tell her Jamie and Katie spent the night and all the info we discussed.  I would brag about how my friends have given me such thoughtful gifts and Chantay made my boys those pillows.   I would tell her Dad spent the night, I check on him all throughout the day and he told me about what he planned to eat each meal of the day.  She would know that Ford shot (or thinks he did) a goose in the neck with his BB gun, JB shot Annie with the nerf gun a bunch of times so Trey shot him back and made him cry.  I would tell her I have her nightgown from the hospital that I stop to smell when I pass by it because it makes me feel closer to her.  Those are just some of the things I'd tell her.  I hate not having her here, I hate the hollow feeling and the pain that comes with knowing I can't see or call her.  I hate death!"

A dear friend made these pillows for the boys (Annie's is in the works).  The back white part is one of mom's nightgowns.  It says, "remember me with joy and laughter".  That is beyond precious.  

You know I said I wasn't mad about mom being sick but through this process, especially October to December, I found myself mad at HER.  Yes, mad at my mother.  I didn't understand how she could go to the doctor and agree to do what the doctors said and then not follow through.  She wasn't drinking like she was supposed to, and she was eating like a bird.  Therefore, she was physically weak.  I was so frustrated that she wouldn't do right.  Her doctor explained that was part of this illness in the final stages.  I brought food almost every single time I went to their house.  It usually wasn't eaten.  Still I was mad and thought she should do better.  

The last time my mother ate was one week before she died and that was a Special K granola bar.  By Thursday she was having an ounce or two of liquids.  Friday she was pretty much done with all eating and drinking.  She was being fed purely morphine.  

I asked the funeral home to make me a thumbprint necklace.  I love it!!!!!

It hurts that my children won't have the pleasure of growing up with their Gran.  Annie won't remember her and Bitty's memories will fade. I am holding on to the a hope that Ford will always hold on to her in some way.  

I worry about Dad.  They were married over 40 years.  The man is retired and has no hobby. Literally.  He worshipped the ground that woman walked on.  He's lost.  I worry about him being alone.  He's already stayed with me twice.  

I wanted to call mom the other day to tell her I was so proud of him for making up the bed.  I became concerned about how he'd cut the grass.  She always held the bags to dump the clippings in.  I thought about our annual Anthony family trips to the beach.  Mom won't be there.  She won't be in the family pictures.  My dad will have to drive 9 hours alone.  It all sucks (excuse my language).  

I'm sad that next month Annie will be one.  I've never planned a little girl's party.  My mom will miss that.  

Last Saturday, Ford had his first basketball game. He was super pumped about the game and winning.  Afterwards he said he was sad he couldn't call Gran to tell her all about it.  

I don't want anything new to happen.  I don't want the pain of not being able to share the news with my mom.  I feel like my excitement for life has been stolen.  But I get mad at myself for that because the Devil finds joy in knowing I'm hurting. I'm a good faker I guess.  I'm trying to carry on when all I want is my momma back.  

To add to my already fragile and raw state, the doctor strongly suggested that Ken, my brother, and I have a specific blood test done to see if we have the gene and will end up with pancreatic cancer too.  He and I have made a pack to go swim with sharks if we do.  

So, I hope you're a praying person because I am.  God has to listen to me more than he'd like to I'm sure.  I need prayers.  Prayers for dad as he adjusts to life without his mate.  Prayers for my grandparents since they buried their first born.  Prayers for Ken's family and mine as we learn to move on without our mom and Gran. And prayers for anyone else who is experiencing hurt over mom being gone.  

God bless the fact that SHE'S HEALED and in Glory Land.  She fought the fight.  She finished the race.  She kept the faith.  Well done good and faithful servant.  Well done!

The End.