There isn’t much in life that I take seriously unless absolutely necessary. I’ve always felt that only things that need to be taken seriously should and that has served me well for a very long time. The way I normally deal with problems is that I try to either ignore them or become emotionally detached, but it’s never meant that I don’t care.
When I laughed upon hearing that my mum has cancer it wasn’t due to a lack of empathy, it was that I’d thought I was about to hear she was dead. Anything else was an improvement. The truth is that I have no idea how to deal with such a thing myself, let alone deal with other peoples feelings.
She hadn’t been eating much recently yet went to Queensland over the new year anyway and was submitted to hospital while there, during which time a test showed that the cancer has spread to her lungs and spine. When talking to her yesterday, now that she was back at home, she mentioned her fear in between wracking sobs that she might lose the ability to walk and it was this moment that finality of her death turned into a reality for me.
Sure I knew all along that there was a chance she could die, but I guess I’d always hoped that my mum would be one of the lucky ones and she’d make it through to live many a year more. I know now that isn’t going to happen and I try not to dwell on the thoughts of the details to help me keep it together.
I’ve warned Oui that, should she survive long enough for us to see her when we move back, he should prepare himself for how dramatically different she will look and in saying so I know that no matter how prepared I try to be, I’m not going to be able to control my emotions when faced with how the cancer will have destroyed my memory of her.
Phew, that was hard to write.
I’m sorry to hear that. Sadly, I can empathise. I’m not sure what help I can can be, but I’m happy to chat some time if you like.
Thanks Michael :)
I have just been through Kim’s mums death over a period of months and it was very exhausting – I shared very similar concerns that I wouldn’t be able to handle things, but I surprised myself and my wife was amazingly strong. I learned awhile back that to cry or be vulnerable at these times is not something to fear.
We found that we just tried to provide everything that could give comfort, and it really brought the family together in ways I won’t forget.
As for the physical deterioration, it was of less concern – you sort of get used to it after awhile. Unfortunately even in good hospitals and care units there is a certain loss of dignity and you don’t really have a lot of choice but to accept it.
I have some great memories of her mum and they are still very strong. Nearly every day I think of her and it seems amazing to me that she is gone. We are still a little stunned. You will be fine Ben.
She’s your mum…no reaction is inappropriate.
Those who make us feel – in grief – that we must “perform” are not worth concerning yourself with. Just be you…it’s horrid & it’s sad & it’s unfair…& later, remember & move forward & KNOW that not one single reaction, not one single tear, not one single laugh, giggle, thought or spoken word was “wrong” or out place.
Thinking of you both :)
Sorry Ben
It hit you sooner than I thought, I’m always here when you are back, dont forget that!