Thursday, June 7, 2012

Dealing with Death

I know that I've been missing from my blog and social networks for a while.  It just wasn't a focus of mine over the past week or so.  My mom passed away at 130 AM on June 2nd.  She had been battling multiple myeloma for a couple of years now.  She was in and out of the hospital over the past few months, but she checked in, for the last time, the day after Mother's Day.

It was within a week that we learned that it was pretty much a waiting game.  We didn't know when, but we knew that death was inevitable and that the doctors could do no more.  Although it was painful to watch my mom fade with each passing day, things were made a bit easier to know how many people loved her.  She had tons of visitors and got to benefit from the love from so many people whose lives she had touched over the years.

To me, that was the true meaning of a legacy.  A legacy isn't leaving children behind or having some statue built in your honor.  A legacy is leaving people with a part of you that they will keep with them forever.  My mom passed away with family at her side and that's what anyone should want.  Not some phone call saying something unexpected happened, but to be able to actually say "goodbye."

I feel a sense of pride of how wonderful of a lady she was based on all of the people who have come by to visit my dad.  How could one person have touched so many lives in 69 years?  I know that the strength and pride that I feel today will stay with me after the funeral.  The services on tomorrow will be "closed casket" at my mom's request, so yesterday's viewing at the funeral home was my last time seeing her.  The tears I shed on yesterday were not because I was feeling sorry for myself or asking "why?"  They were tears of gratitude of me saying "thank you."  "Thank you" for keeping me in line when I was a child and for never stop being my mother after adulthood.  Even though I'm dealing with death, the memories of the life lessons that you taught will still guide me going forward.

I ask that my readers understand that I don't plan on responding to any comments on this post although I do appreciate them.  I need to get past this feeling I've had.  It's not healthy.  After a few days of feeling lost, I'm slowly returning back to my everyday self.  That's what my mom would have wanted.  For me to be me.  For me to be the strong one and to take care of my grandmother and my father.  To do that, I have to have the strength to move on...

...And Momma didn't raise no punk.


  1. Q,

    First let me offer my deepest condolences to you and your family. I too have had to deal with the loss of my mother. September 2nd will make 7 years since she left her Earthly home and returned to her heavenly one. Having been where you are right now, I know it took a lot of strength to be able to write this. That indeed shows that "Momma didn't raise no punk". I pray for your strength and your family's strength.

    With Love,

    Your Brother on The Airwaves, Derrick

  2. I am so sorry to hear about your mum. It's never easy to lose a parent, no matter what. Truly, sorry and I send you peaceful thoughts for you and your family. Be patient with yourself. It takes as long as it takes to get through whatever comes up. It takes a lot of courage to even share it with us, so I thank you for doing that.

    Sending you good thoughts and peaceful dreams.


  3. We all deal with grief and loss in our own way...

    For Father's Day last year, I did a post on my Father in Law who died in 2008, only 5 weeks after my youngest was born.

    That man was my rock, and I considered him to be my real dad. I visited him in the hospital a few times, but I mostly played the support role. I let my wife be there to grieve and mourn in the hospital while I took care of the kids.

    She thinks I did it as a way of hiding and avoiding. I did it because I wanted his daughter to be there for every moment she could. I did it out of love and respect, and it's still held over my head.

    I'm actually tearing up a little while typing this...

    Mourn. Grieve. It's healthy. But like you said, life goes on, and your mama wouldn't want this to devastate your life. Just do it in your own time, in your own way, and don't let anyone else try to force you down a path you don't want.

  4. So sorry to hear of your loss Q. This is a beautiful tribute, and you're so right that your momma didn't raise a punk! You do her proud!

  5. I am so sorry for your loss. There is no right or wrong way to grieve, no timeline to follow. Listen to your heart and be kind to yourself.

  6. I'm so sorry for your loss. Even when you know it is imminent it doesn't make it any easier. So glad you are celebrating the wonderful woman she was with this post. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family.

  7. Even when you know its coming, death is never easy. I am so sorry for your loss.

  8. I'm so sorry for your loss! This is my first visit to your blog, I saw the post on Twitter and was drawn to the title because I lost my Dad to cancer on May 30th. It's hard and I send you good thoughts, vibes and prayers. The best advice I've received is that the process is ongoing and normal is whatever your process needs to be. Some days are good, some days are bad. Some days I feel grateful and some days I'm just pissed. Others I just want to cry. Some days I still don't believe it happened. It just really sucks and I'm sorry that you are going through it and have lost your Mom. Much love.

  9. I'm so sorry for your loss. I lost my Dad to a 4 wheeling accident when I was 27, so I understand the pain. I also understand the instinct to take over as caregiver, but make sure to take time to mourn. I didn't and it created an anxiety in me that took years to shake. Take care.

  10. Wish I had come by sooner. My sincerest condolences for your loss.


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