Dear Mom,
Last year, at this time, I was sitting with you in the ICU. We all were.
Hanna, Cousin Angela, Dianna, baby Noah, Heather, Steve, Crystal, a friend she had brought that you knew but I can't remember her name, Dad, Britt and me... We filled your room with stories of when you were young; stories filled with laughter and love and hope and youthfulness... Stories of you.
Then everyone left and it was just us four again. Us four, and the beeping of the machines that kept you breathing. The machines that kept you with us.
We had been at your side for almost 30 hours, reluctant to leave you because, as the doctors said, you could go at any minute. We didn't want to miss your farewell. Magda, your night nurse, came in and turned off your machine, allowing you to leave us peacefully. I'll never forget the moment the room filled with silence. Then you took a breath. Your own breath. Even as you were leaving, you were stubborn. We stayed by your side. We refused to leave. We touched your hands and stroked your face. We played you your favourite songs and didn't care if the nurses were sick of the music.We said we loved you over and over again because once is never enough. We knew you could hear us and that is all that mattered. You could hear us telling you we loved you and that it was okay for you to go.
At around 6am, the room turned arctic cold. Angela had stated that when it was almost time, the only person who would come to get you was your best friend... Grampa. The main who loved you more than his own life would come and get you and as dawn approached on the morning of October 17th, we believed he was there. The room froze, we had goosebumps all over our arms and we were sure that he was coming to take you with him. The emotion in the room rose, and an hour later at 7:22am, you left us.
People say all the time that the hurt fades with time. "You never forget," people tell me," but the hurt fades." I say that that statement is complete bullshit. For the last year, nothing has been the same. It has not stopped hurting, not for one bit and I know I shouldn't feel angry but I do. I would do anything to have you come back and be with us again. I would do anything to have you waiting for me to come home with your big, goofy grin; to laugh at the stupidest jokes even if you didn't get them. To be able to say that you were proud of me for standing up and doing what I need to do for the family even if it crushes me day in and day out....
"I miss you," is not a strong enough statement....
Sunday, 16 October 2016
Sunday, 18 September 2016
September 18th
Dear Mom,
I went all day without thinking of the day you passed away. I think that's progress. As much as I miss you and wish you could share in everything I do, I know you are aware of my progress and I know you are proud.
I went into work today just to see if I could make a phone call to get a sale. I was off the clock and the RTA told me I couldn't do it because they were over-staffed, so I just stayed and helped out with the others on the phones. In doing this, I found that one of the managers, Ashley, had submitted my name in so I could help coach the new hires that are hired. I was ecstatic, since that is what she was doing before she became manager. That is what I want to do there; be a manager. I want to run my own team, I want to be able to be off the phones and helping people make more money. I want to be something other than just another agent on the floor. And I think I can do that.
I came home and I was so damn excited, I couldn't even explain it if I had to. I've been in a good mood ever since, and I'm so damn proud of myself. I haven't been proud of myself before.... It's a strange feeling...
I went all day without thinking of the day you passed away. I think that's progress. As much as I miss you and wish you could share in everything I do, I know you are aware of my progress and I know you are proud.
I went into work today just to see if I could make a phone call to get a sale. I was off the clock and the RTA told me I couldn't do it because they were over-staffed, so I just stayed and helped out with the others on the phones. In doing this, I found that one of the managers, Ashley, had submitted my name in so I could help coach the new hires that are hired. I was ecstatic, since that is what she was doing before she became manager. That is what I want to do there; be a manager. I want to run my own team, I want to be able to be off the phones and helping people make more money. I want to be something other than just another agent on the floor. And I think I can do that.
I came home and I was so damn excited, I couldn't even explain it if I had to. I've been in a good mood ever since, and I'm so damn proud of myself. I haven't been proud of myself before.... It's a strange feeling...
Wednesday, 14 September 2016
September 14th
Dear Mom,
Today was the first day in a long time where I didn't cry when I was on the bus going to work. I thought of you. I thought of my anxiety at work and how I would love to just tell you everything, even if you didn't really understand. I miss how you would just listen, nodding along to make me feel like you really got what I was saying, even though you didn't.
I didn't get suspended at work, and I think its because I found that they really need me at work. They really appreciate me and the hard work I do, so I can't complain about what I do. I wore a dress and my best lipstick to work, made a statement and got the job done; the main goal.
I say this every time, but I miss you. I don't think I will ever really stop missing you. The hole you left, the space that was created when you left is vast and dark and cold... I feel like a part of me is empty. I try to fill it with distractions, but it never really works.
I hope wherever you are, whether you're watching, hanging around, what have you... I hope you're proud of me.
Today was the first day in a long time where I didn't cry when I was on the bus going to work. I thought of you. I thought of my anxiety at work and how I would love to just tell you everything, even if you didn't really understand. I miss how you would just listen, nodding along to make me feel like you really got what I was saying, even though you didn't.
I didn't get suspended at work, and I think its because I found that they really need me at work. They really appreciate me and the hard work I do, so I can't complain about what I do. I wore a dress and my best lipstick to work, made a statement and got the job done; the main goal.
I say this every time, but I miss you. I don't think I will ever really stop missing you. The hole you left, the space that was created when you left is vast and dark and cold... I feel like a part of me is empty. I try to fill it with distractions, but it never really works.
I hope wherever you are, whether you're watching, hanging around, what have you... I hope you're proud of me.
Monday, 12 September 2016
September 12th
Dear Mom,
In one month, you have been gone a year. It's starting to weigh on me that you're gone. I can't just come home from a day at work and have you here to say hi, to ask how my day was, to just occupy the room with your laughter.
I'm struggling at work and I'm honestly trying to keep it together, but it's becoming more and more difficult to do so. I got a phone call today from my manager who says we need to discuss my attendance... And I'm scared of being suspended.
In the last month, I've been late several times and I've had spurts of tears on the floor which made me need to leave work... I don't want to be this weak person anymore. I want to be the strong girl you raised. The stubborn girl you brought into this world and it's just becoming more and more difficult to hold myself together.
I have thought about what my life would have been like if I had just told you to get to the doctor at 6am when you came and showed me your leg. Would you still be alive? Would you have had to lose your leg? Would you have gotten really sick? These questions run through my head every single day of my life, especially when I get my paycheque and see $500 sitting there.
I'm honestly trying to take care of everyone, and I'm forgetting to take care of myself...
In one month, you have been gone a year. It's starting to weigh on me that you're gone. I can't just come home from a day at work and have you here to say hi, to ask how my day was, to just occupy the room with your laughter.
I'm struggling at work and I'm honestly trying to keep it together, but it's becoming more and more difficult to do so. I got a phone call today from my manager who says we need to discuss my attendance... And I'm scared of being suspended.
In the last month, I've been late several times and I've had spurts of tears on the floor which made me need to leave work... I don't want to be this weak person anymore. I want to be the strong girl you raised. The stubborn girl you brought into this world and it's just becoming more and more difficult to hold myself together.
I have thought about what my life would have been like if I had just told you to get to the doctor at 6am when you came and showed me your leg. Would you still be alive? Would you have had to lose your leg? Would you have gotten really sick? These questions run through my head every single day of my life, especially when I get my paycheque and see $500 sitting there.
I'm honestly trying to take care of everyone, and I'm forgetting to take care of myself...
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