The Journey Part IV

Trying to pick right back up where I left off, but it feels like it was so long ago. The words are failing me. I’m not sure if there is a right or a wrong way to do this. But putting myself out there is supposed to be healing to the soul. It is supposed to make me feel better. The tears roll down my cheeks as I type. Just blabbering on and on so the words can start to flow. So this madness that I am trying to write can become a solid mass.

…It was the last day of radiation and a surprise visit on November 17th. Things were looking up as far as I knew. We knew we couldn’t beat this thing, but Mom gave it all she had, she wanted to be here.

As we prepared the house for Thanksgiving, painting and cleaning and trying to get everything in order for mom’s visit. It was November 18th. I can remember exactly what I was doing. I remember exactly which wall I was painting, what was cooking in the crock pot and who was at the house. The phone rang. I knew deep in my gut that it was nothing good. Nothing can come from a mid-day phone call from your aunt. The conversation was short.

“Jordy, its not good. You better come home now.”

Those 9 words and I broke down into an uncontrollable mess. Not only were things not looking well, we still had a 2 hour drive back home. It felt like the longest drive of my life. Even though we have taken that trips more times than I can count, it seemed like we were driving it in reverse. Faster, faster I screamed. Sobbing uncontrollably.

We facetimed along the way, just in case things went really sideways. I just wanted to be there. Mom spoked to me. “Honey, I just can’t do this anymore.” I knew her wishes but they were not mine. The car wasn’t moving fast enough. Hurry, I need to be home. The facetime continued as the priest came to give mom her last rights. Although I grew up Catholic, we weren’t church goers. Mom had faith but we didn’t put much more into it than that, until now. I am not sure where the strong surge to be closer to a higher power came from, but it gave me relief to believe that mom was going to go somewhere beyond this world. Somewhere, where there would be no pain. Where her family would meet her.

We were finally pulling up to the house and the car was still moving as I just jumped out. I needed to see her. I needed to tell her that I was there. I needed to tell her how much I loved her. So many times I wanted to disregard her wishes and just call the ambulance. Take her to the hospital. Let them work their magic so that I can have more time. I knew that it was so selfish, but I wasn’t ready. We had so many plans coming up that I showed excitement for.

I laid by her, crying and holding her tight. Listening to the horrible breathing. Listening to her heart beat. Knowing that even though this is what she wanted, it’s not what I want. I don’t want her to leave me. We were surrounded by the whole family. As the day turned to night everyone started to move on. It gave me time to be alone with mom. To tell her my thoughts, my fears, my absolute last words. That day plays in a constant loop in my head. I have to close my eyes and just feel the moment. I used to fight it, but now, I know that I cannot fight what is already done. I cannot undo it, as much as I try to.

“I love you so, so much” with a bop on the nose. Those were the words that I will never forget. Those last words.