Friday, November 19, 2010

It's harder than I thought...

No "Beck Boy" pictures mesmerisingly staring back at you this time. I'm not in the mood.

I was going to blog on my thoughts on the new CHI, but I've put that on the back burner right now as my earthly life has forever changed this week. And though I somewhat expected this day to come, it still doesn't matter how much you prepare yourself or anticipate the day when you lose your parents, it still isn't enough to adequately prepare you for the ache I now feel.

I have worked through the obit and the funeral services yesterday and this morning and made all the arrangements (which has been a blessing in its own way) and have tried to be "patriarchal" (being the only son)helping my sisters through their pain and tears, but right now it is hitting me really hard, and I can't work, and I don't feel very good about things and I don't particularly feel very patriarchal.

I don't want to celebrate her life. I don't feel like celebrating much at all. Of course she was a great elect lady, a truly amazing source of love and devotion to me, and she led an amazingly wonderful life. So much of who I am and how I feel and why I feel the way I do comes directly from her impact on my life.

I know she was suffering and didn't want to be here anymore. I know she wanted to go, but I didn't want her to go. I selfishly wanted her to be better and return home to her life as it was before and that everything would just continue on.

On Sunday she was doing well... a bit lethargic, but still okay, so I took off on a business trip, coming to find out that soon thereafter she began slipping away. I managed to get to her bedside in the ICU by Wednesday afternoon in time to see her, to have her see me and recognize me and to acknowledge that she knew I was there, and then... within an hour or so, she was gone...

I know that in and of itself should be enough of a tender mercy for me to hold onto. She did care and wanted me to be there and did all in her power to make it so and was "granted" that wish that we both had... it still sucks!

I have seen others die before, but never my mom... watching her slowly, slowly stop breathing. It was the most heart-wrenching experience I have had to do. Of course she is "better" on the other side, and is free from the pain and suffering and so why should I linger over the idea that I still want her here? Let her go!

I have blogged that I firmly hold a belief of strong hope in "the Plan". I feel I grasp the concept of eternal life and families lasting forever. But watching her spirit leave her body, witnessing her last breath and finally feeling her last heart beat and then coldly nothing... it's hard! It's really, really hard. It is harder than I thought it would be.

I have regrets. I regret that I was worried more about my next job and next trip and next obligation than in spending time holding her hand or running my fingers through her hair. I regret that I wasn't the supporting son that was always there for her - sure, I was there, but she wasn't my top priority. She was always going to get better and so there was nothing to worry about, right?

Mom never "knew" about me. I never felt the need for her to "know". Yet, she knew. She knew I was different and she loved me for who I was and never questioned my feelings or motives. I guess I should have been strong enough to have told her, but for what purpose? I already knew she accepted me for being me.

Just a few more days to be the "strong one" and the patriarch of the family, and then I can have my true breakdown... right about time for Thanksgiving! Wow, what great timing!

I feel like an orphan. I don't care if I'm not a dependent child, but I still feel so alone and orphaned. Being parentless leaves me empty.

Family is so over-rated! :(

I don't know why I'm blogging... I probably shouldn't. You don't know me and you never knew her and so why am I sharing my emptiness? I just need to write some things down to myself about my thoughts and memories, but I can't bring myself to doing it...

All I want is some pathetic pity...

Does it get better from here? Where's the "it gets better" sound bite in this one?


Ned said...

I am so sorry, Beck. I know you loved your mom so much and that she was such an influence for good in your life, a life she and you father made possible. My heart goes out to you and I pray that as you seek comfort you will find and accept it.

After the death of my mom a lot of people told me the ache will always be there, but two people told me something a bit more comforting. One said grief will eventually grow less burdensome but your healing will continue the rest of your life. The other said when someone you love becomes a memory, the memory becomes a treasure. To be honest, I doubted both of these at the time, but now the truth of them is starting to dawn on me.

I hope you will someday find the all the truths that brings healing and comfort to your soul and to your loved-ones, but for now I just want to give you a big Beck-like hug and say thank you for your friendship my dear brother.

MoHoHawaii said...

I lost both of my parents at a younger age. I've had that orphan feeling for 15 years now. All I can say is that life includes joy and profound loss. Love and loss can't be separated.

The anger you feel right now will pass. Many of your readers do know you, and we care about you.

robert said...

I went through this myself a year ago. It is the most profound emptiness I have known. It is more than sadness for the loss of a is a loss of self as well. Nothing can return to replace that which brought us to this life. No amount of thinking can change the fact. An eternal plan. Wow. I cannot imagine such a thing truly exists. Life seems in the moment of death perfectly finite to me. I cry with you...and make of this time the best of this we can. Deepest touch to you, dear Beck

Invictus Pilgrim said...

Dear Beck - Sincere condolences to you on your loss. It *is* a loss, and you should allow yourself to grieve.

Based on my own experience losing my parents and watching someone very close to mem die, I offer the following thoughts:

We all experience regrets in our lives; allow yourself to feel your regrets, but do not let them overwhelm you. Certainly try not to let regret turn into any feelings of guilt. Perspective will come in time and help you to sort out everything you are feeling right now, and you will become stronger as a person through what you are now passing through.

I wish you strength during this difficult time, as well as the ability to give compassion, forgiveness and love to yourself.

Mister Curie said...

Hugs to you, Beck! I am thinking of you in your loss and sadness.

Neal said...

My heart and prayers go out to you, Beck! I know the anguish you're going through. Know this - your Mom will always be a part of you, and you of her. We are joined together more than we know. That part of her that is part of you can never be taken away - its there for you to call on any time.

The pain will diminish in time. Your memories and love for her will not. Cherish them.

Public Loneliness said...

Sweet Beck,
I'm sorry to hear about your mom; I hope that the love and care she gave you are a lasting memory that will help you be strong.
((Sending you big hugs)),Miguel

naturgesetz said...

My Condolences in your sorrow.

Knowing that there is a plan, knowing all the other things you know in faith, does not take away the fact that you have suffered a big loss, and your emotions are unavoidable.

Whatever regrets (justified or not) you feel for not having done more or done differently, should not diminish the realization that at the end you were there and she knew it.


Scott N said...

My Mom died when I was thirteen--a few weeks into my eighth grade year. I don't remember much from that school year... I was in a numb haze for at least those nine months, and possibly into the following summer.

But life does go on, and the good tends to outweigh the bad if we allow ourselves to see it. Now (23 years later) I scarcely remember the pain, and have a nice collection of happy memories to keep my Mom alive.

It gets better.


Gay LDS Actor said...

My deepest condolences, Beck. I'm sure I will feel much the same way when my own mother passes.

It is never easy to lose a parent. My father died when I was serving a mission 18 years ago. Words are never enough.

It does get better, though. The wounds are fresh now, but in time you will heal and, more importantly, you will see your dear, sweet mother again.

My thoughts and prayers are with you during this difficult time.

Rob said...

My mom left us a little over three years ago, after a long terminal illness. I understand everything you're going through.

I also agree with much of what others have said. The wounded feeling of loss will become less raw and sharply painful as time passes. Your life won't ever be the same and you shouldn't expect it to. But Scott's right, eventually the sweet memories will outweigh the pain.

Living parents are an emotional barrier between oneself and one's own mortality. When they're gone, we feel more exposed to it ourselves somehow. Not much we can do about that. MHH is right, love and loss are inextricably intertwined. But the love is worth the risk of loss I think. You'll be in my prayers.

Adon said...

I'm sorry to hear about your Mom's passing. I lost my mother this spring and father about 6 years ago. With both my parents, I felt like they had already left before they actually died. Thats pretty common with older folks.

There are no words that change the feelings you have. Your role in life changes when your parents are gone.

Try to focus on the love and good times you had with them...So sorry...

Beck said...

Thank you everyone for your kind and supportive words. I know I was begging for an outpouring of pity party condolences and I end up getting sound and loving support and kind and sensitive advice.

This is an example of what a great community of fellow bloggers we have here. I feel you are my friends and I thank you.

The viewing and funeral went very well and I feel at peace. I've learned a few things and gained some insights that I might share in the coming days.

Meanwhile, just a big Beck hug and thanks to each of you!