Friday, April 6, 2007
I scream, you scream, we all scream.
Let me first warn you that this isn't going to be the usual laugh so hard you'll smack your momma posts. It aint always hookers and blow at The Disco.
The past few weeks have been a bit of an emotional rollercoaster for me. My girlfriend recently found out that her friends' mother has cancer and the outlook is decidedly negative. On top of that, the mother in law of another friend also passed away due to cancer. We also thought that she (my girlfriend) may in fact be pregnant (which turned out negative by the way). The death of any human being would be cause for sadness (with the exception of some), but these deaths served to dig up some painful memories.
My mother Irma died from cancer several years ago. She was a dynamic woman who, though not perfect and with her share of skeletons, rose from the ashes of her past to provide a better life for my brother and myself. She did not reveal to us, her family, that she had cancer until she had progressed further along in the stages of cancer. She fought it as long as she could but I think there came a point where she realized that she could not win and could only do her best to make her departure as painless as possible for everyone involved. I cannot describe to you how difficult it is to watch someone who used to be so strong and fearless forget where they were going, or ask you to take them to a chinese restaraunt only to realize that she couldn't remember where it was, to sit up for hours at night moaning in pain with you powerless to do anything about any of it. During her last moments I lay in what would be her deathbed next to her, holding her hand as her breathing machine was turned off and watched her take her last breaths. As most would tell you about me, I'm one to rarely let it be known when I am upset or angry. All that gets tucked down into a ball deep down inside me. But not at this moment. Watching the life leave the person I loved most in this world after my own daughters was too much. I screamed. I cried. I broke down into the kind of body wracking sobs that only a son losing his mother could know. I sobbed until there were no more tears and my throat had gone dry. The woman that had molded me into the man I was and the father I am today was being taken from me
I felt alone. For all of the "We're here for you" and "Call me if you need anything" I felt alone. No one could reach inside me and fill that void that was left. But what was I to do? I had two daughters to care for, a house to maintain and a job to worry about. I didn't have time to mourn. So there I went, pushing those feelings down into that little ball that wasn't so little anymore. I was happy Manny again. Never a frown on this face, no sir. So I soldiered on, not really facing those feelings of loss, anger, of halving several worlds on my shoulders.
Needless to say, this was a lot to come flooding back, so my disposition has been somewhat lacking in the sunny department. For what it's worth I've offered myself as a source of comfort or at least a reference for how to deal with some of the issues that arise from dealing with a loved one that has cancer.
That's all for now. Maybe I'll pick up this thread again later, maybe not. It just felt like time to put some of this away.