I had barely completed my last post when I got a call from my dad: come home now.
Within 9 hours I was walking off a plane in Florida into the arms of my dad and sister. As we hugged in the airport they told me the sad news: my mom had passed away.
The small blessing is that this all happened so fast that she didn't really suffer. When she drove into the hospital on Wednesday, she thought she would be coming home once they fixed her breathing. She was sedated when her heart stopped, so for all intents and purposes, she died in her sleep.
I admit, it hasn't really sunk in yet. When we were driving today around making funeral arrangements, I kept forgetting that she wasn't at home waiting for us. When we were filling in the details for the obituary and I thought "my children will never know their grandmother" it was still an abstract kind of thought.
I don't know when it will fully hit me. This isn't really something you can study and prepare for. But I do know that I am grateful for the relationship that I had with her, and for all the wonderful and loving people who will help support me through this. My mom was a loving, creative, strong woman and I will miss her for the rest of my life.
Rebecca Jane Cantwell
March 25, 1953 - December 3, 2008
Wake: Sunday, December 7, 2008 from 6PM to 8PM
Funeral Service: Monday, December 8, 2008 at 10:30am
3 comments:
I cried for hours after talking to your sister. I still can't wrap my mind around this, and as much as I can express my deepest sympathy, I can't imagine what you are going through right now. As such a close (and practically lifelong) friend to you and Joy - I've been able to share so many happy and wonderful moments in your lives. Now, when I want to be with you the most - to hold your hand, hug you, share your tears, I can't - and it tears me up. There's only so much you can say over the phone. Please, please know how much I love you girls and your dad, and my heart is aching with you right now. I know there is physically nothing I can do, but please know that I love you, I'm thinking of you, and my heart and soul is with you now and always. XOXOXOX.
I also just have no words. I've had other friends who have lost their mothers, and my mom lost hers at about our age. So I know this is something you will be grieving for the rest of your life. And, no matter how much we want to take the pain away, there's nothing any of us can do but just let you know we're thinking about you and we're here for you. If you need to talk, to complain, to get away . . . whatever it is, just let us know.
And now, because there's nothing else I can do, I have a really bad joke for you:
A man was walking down the street carrying a desk on his back. In one hand he held a chair, in the other was a wastebasket. A policeman saw him and asked, "What are you doing?" He replied, "Impersonating an office, sir."
Skye, I am so sorry that you must walk this journey of grief. I can't imagine how difficult it is. As the reality sets in and the pain come, please know that you have an ear here if you need one. You and your family will continue to be in my thoughts and prayers.
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