We all go through phases in life. Well, I don’t know about you, but I do anyway. Long hair/short hair. Country music/ pop music. I even go through phases with the type of clothes I wear to work. Right now I am into very classy looks: flowy pleated skirts, navy slacks paired with pearls, black pants with a striking gray striped top. Very clean and fresh. Next month, I may be on a vintage type kick, who knows.
I said all of that to say that I have been going through phases with my mom’s illness. We went to visit her this weekend. And, she isn’t well.
When I first learned of her having cancer, I was angry that she hadn’t told me sooner. I was angry that she hadn’t been a mother to me for so long and now we may never get the chance to redeem that relationship. I was angry that she got to duck out of my childhood and blame it on drugs/alcohol and angry that she gets to duck out once again and blame it on cancer. I am still angry about most of it, but I also went through a rekindling phase in that I wanted to make everything better. I know that isn’t possible but during that phase I was hell bent on us having an instantly close to perfect mother daughter relationship. Boy, did I put the breaks on quickly. Though it was tough, I reminded myself that will never happen. There is entirely too much history between us for things to be “picture perfect”.
I wish we could do things together and share things that a mother and her adult daughter do. I want so badly to, excuse the wording, send her out in style. I wish we could spend her last days here together doing things like going to the beach and drinking coffee on the back porch and taking the boys to the park, or have her come stay at my house so we can sew and scrapbook and laugh together. I want long, leisurely evening walks together talking about… anything. But we can’t do that. So that phase is over. Those of you who do have a mother to share things with- don’t take it for granted.
Then there was the phase when I was convinced more that ever that she is lying about all of this. I worked myself into believing she was using drugs. (and she very well may be) I over processed and picked apart every detail until I found plenty to suggest that it- SHE, was a scam. She has done it before. She lied about having cancer when I was 12. She was actually fighting alcoholism and drug dependency during that time. Her motive? I’m not really sure. I talked to my friend (a cop) about drug use and what to look for. I talked to my friend (a nurse) about chemo patients and talked to my friend (a cancer survivor) about breast cancer itself and what to expect. Her story doesn’t add up sometimes. But, that isn't for me to focus on and determine.
Of course, simultaneously during the I-think-my-mother-is-a-liar-phase, was the guilt phase. I mean, really, how much of an asshole can a person be? My mom is dying of a terrible disease and all I can do is try everything within my power to prove she isn’t. Sometimes I feel horrible for even thinking this way, much less voicing my opinion (which I haven’t done much of- I’ve only shared this with a select few). Over the years, I have programmed myself to protect my loved ones and myself from her. All of my life, she lied to and hurt us. Now that I am old enough to mentally and emotionally defend myself, it is hard to turn that switch to “off” sometimes. Because of her, instilled in me is a very high level of suspicion towards the majority of the human population. Guilty until proven innocent in my book. I get intense gut feelings about people when they are lying. But, I think, also deep down inside of me is a
longing for her to be lying about this.
I really need this to be a hoax or a ploy to get me back in her life-Because, to me, deceit and trickery is far more desirable than pain and death. I’d rather be fooled once again than to have my own mom in pain and dying.
The conclusion I have come to is this: Regardless of what phase I am in, my mom is sick. She is going to die. I know this. Judging from her appearance and behavior yesterday in comparison to when I was with her on Mother’s Day- she is deteriorating quickly. She looks terrible and has lost even more weight. She barely eats anything and sleeps all the tieme but it still fatigued beyond belief. She walks with a cane, mostly using it on her right side but I noticed that sometimes she puts it in front of her as to suggest she needs it to support all of her weight instead of just one side. It is obvious that she is in a great deal of pain pretty much all day and night. I hate the thought of that- HATE it, and ache to fix it. Most of you know that I am a fixer, but I can't fix this.
The months ahead will unquestionably be the hardest in my life. My mom is dying. I am not prepared for that even though she has never been constant in my life. Even when she wasn’t around, I knew she was somewhere and would pop in soon or call. I battle with all of this everyday. I had a fancy sounding closing in my head but it has left me so I will stop writing now. Maybe later in the week I can gather my thoughts a little better and complete this post.
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