Following Agnostic Antichrist's lead
24th April 2004 1.45pm

In many ways I now consider myself to be very fortunate. On many levels, firstly to have been loved by such a wonderful, kind and gentle person. Secondly to have been privileged to have been able to help look after her at home for the final few weeks (it was very much a team effort).

We were all there - Dad, my 3 sisters, me and the dog. All sat around the bed where my mum lay dying of pancreatic cancer. Bit of background - 10 years or so previously Dad had had cancer himself and had retired from general practice. Subsequently he went to work for McMillan as such he was able to ensure that Mum was able to stay at home for as many of her final months as possible.

There is a lot a other stuff going on at this time (me made redundant in the same week as being told of mum’s illness, my relationship breaking down a few weeks later). Still, all in all it meant that I was free to be with my family for the time that I need to be.

Right back on subject – 24th April, 12.30-ish, all in Mum’s room. Dad suggests a drink, I volunteer to put the kettle on; not what he actually meant. 15 minutes later, we all have very large gins inside us, which helped. Still watching, Mum’s breathing getting more and more laboured and shallow. Eventually, finally it stops and she just settles - silence only punctuated by gentle tears from us all. We all file downstairs leaving Dad to say goodbye. After a short time we have all taken our turn to bid our individual farewell.

Attention turns to what do we do now? Dad knows about these things; there is a need to call the GP and a few local relatives. This is duly done. Nothing left to do other than to retire to the garden and toast Mum. By the time that the undertaker arrived, we had toasted Mum - a lot. Best thing we could have done. In fact I still have an empty champagne bottle from that afternoon on the windowsill in my bedroom.

Regrets? – that she knew that my then relationship had broken down and that she never met my wife whom I met a few short months later (she is a nurse who used to work with Dad). I also am saddened every time I have a reflective moment with my 1 year old son – she would have been the best grandmother.. ever.

However the bit that really gets to me is that Mum always said that she didn’t want to be an old lady and be unable to look after herself – be a burden on us. She died at 63, just as she and Dad were about to start to enjoy retirement.

It just makes me think that you should be very careful what you wish for – her wish was granted

Apologies for lack of funnies, it being my first post ‘n all.
Now re-read AA's post again as well as some of the other responses I have found this whole QOTW thingy very cathartic. I think about Mum virtually every day, especially when something happens that I would like to have shared with her - marriage, birth of boy etc etc. There are often times when I want her advice on stuff.

I am acutely aware of the fact that there are many other folk here who have had it far far harder that I have - lost parents at a far earlier stage for instance. However, I am now a very different person to that which I was nearly 4 years ago. The final lesson my Mum taught me was not to waste time worrying about the inevitable - carpe diem
(conanow, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 11:19, 6 replies)

Well done.
It takes a lot of guts to write about this. I'm glad that you were able to all be there at the end, it's a blessing of sorts.

And that's the best way to think of it all, her wish being granted.

(EDIT: *click)
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 11:29, closed)

.
Oh wow.

I had to fight to hold back a tear or two then... That took a lot of balls to write that out.

*click*
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 11:58, closed)

similar ...
my Mum also died from pancreatic cancer but she was in a hospice and I wasn't there with her. It was funny how as she got worse the more I hoped she would hurry up and die, the end was inevitable but I just wanted the suffering to stop.

When I came back down (from Scotland) for the funeral I went to see her in the funeral home and found it very difficult to see her but desperately wanted to say good bye. The undertaker left a net veil over the coffin which made it feel much easier and I stroked her hand through the veil to say goodbye. Back on to topic this is the only dead body I have seen and being 34 it is a bit surprising, however I am sure it will allways be the worst.

I apologise for potential rambling but for some reason felt I had to share. Death is not always bad but sometimes a relief when you see someone suffering so badly alive.
(Studentken is looking for motivation on, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 12:50, closed)

StudentKen
I know percisely what you mean about wanting her to hurry up. By accepting the inevitable earlier on it helped me with the aftermath in that I was already well down the grieving path when she actually died. She had accepted it as she refused to take any chemo etc

Also, I can't emphasise enough how fortunate we were to be with her at home
(conanow, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 13:07, closed)

Jeeping Christ
this QOTW is going to hit some people hard. *gets all teary again*

As previously mentioned, my mum bought the farm when I was six; so she never saw my school plays, my exam results, my graduation, my engagement, wedding and birth of my son, not to mention being the gran with the sense of humour - my missus' mum doesn't really 'do' funny. I'm agnostic and not really into 'the next plane' concept but I so hope there is one, just so I can see her again.
( Fathter Puddytat Kill Kill dat widdle boid is mine on, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 14:24, closed)

Carpe Diem indeed
Thanks for posting that. I lost a Sister not quite two years ago. She died resulting from treatment associated with breast cancer. Your experience is almost identical to mine, except she passed in the hospital. There is not a single day that I dont think of her and miss her.

Thanks for that post.
( Citadel Because the world needs less morons, Thu 28 Feb 2008, 18:12, closed)