Hello Steemians!
I’m a bit later to post today… and that’s partly because what I want to post about is a bit gnarly and pretty personal. But it’s something that I’d like you guys to know about my world right now, as there’s no doubt about it, it colours a lot of my days, my decisions and my dreams.
This morning, I feel hazy, not unlike this photo I took in autumn 2016 just outside the office I work at for the day job. It’s not a bad feeling, not a good feeling, it just is. It makes it hard to focus, hard to make decisions, hard to see ups and avoid downs.
What Has Happened
I know where this stems from, and that, in itself is a good thing. In March, I lost my mum. She was only 60. She had been admitted to hospital in November complaining of severe indigestion. Very long story short- it turned out to be a recurrence of the breast cancer she was originally diagnosed with 5 years previously. A tumour had grown and blocked just below her stomach. The hope was that they’d be able to do a bypass so that her digestive system would work again and then they would treat the cancer. It took 3 very long operations and almost 3 months before the digestive surgery worked. We were told treatment would give her a couple of good years. The next day, this slim hope was taken away. No treatment could be done, and she had just 2 weeks to live.
I went straight to my parents home- 4 hours away, and as per mum’s wishes we managed to get her out of the hospital and home, and my father and I nursed her until the end. These were the toughest two weeks I have ever know. And the most precious. And heartbreaking. And scary. And real. And honest. I saw her last breaths and was holding her hand when she died
I wouldn’t change my decision to be there for anything, but the recovery is slow and harder than I could imagine.
Afterwards
The grief from losing her is huge, of course. There was also the intense tiredness from the nursing and physical aspect of this. I didn’t cry much after it happened. I wasn’t holding back - I think I was just too tired to react. Now, on occasion, it wells up and spills over. I miss her at strange moments, but never forget the joy that I have had such a wonderful um in the first place- a gentle, loving, giving soul who was always there for me, and I know she still is- just in a way I don’t and won’t even try to understand.
So yes- that’s why I feel a little hazy at times. I don’t put this out there for sympathy - I simply wanted you to know, as there are various things I want to post about in the future, and they’ll relate to this in small ways… and without having spelled it out somewhere first, it just wouldn’t make sense.
Everyone’s grief is unique and personal but I wanted to let you know that if you’re going through this now, or have been through it, or are approaching it - you’re not alone.
Eveningart x