Loss.

I miss writing on my blog, so here I am.  I'm warning you right now before you start reading, that this post is ramblings of what's going on in my head, and will most likely not follow any logical writing pattern at all.

I've been trying to figure out how to get back into this, and it hasn't been easy.  I have been through the biggest losses of my life this year, and I've been grieving.  I know there is no right way to grieve.  I know I have to do whatever feels right to me, but sometimes I just don't want to figure out what feels right.  I just want to stay in bed.  My parents died 204 days apart from each other.  Sometimes it's hard to think about anything other than that.

I have had friends or acquaintances lose parents in the past.  Until you go through it, you just don't understand.  Nobody understands.  Everything that has gone through my head to write down here just sounds SO cliche.  Like I've heard it a million times before from other people when they've gone through this.  But I didn't understand.  There was no way I could have.

Cancer sucks.

It's not fair.

This happened to MY mom.

It all happened way too fast.

I want more time with her.

I want one more hug.

Did that all really just happen?

I don't have ANY parents anymore.

I would give anything to sit at another chemo infusion or blood transfusion with her.  Sometimes we'd sit in silence and knit together, and sometimes I'd listen to her little things that were so annoying at the time.  How she had to tell every single nurse her whole story about her power port, or how she is getting over pneumonia, or the story behind the dishcloths she was knitting.  We'd always end up laughing though, and I never took one minute for granted.  She gave me a hard time for pushing her wheelchair into the elevator forwards instead of backing in, like Erin did.  I'm sorry, mom.  I should have backed in for you.  I'm sorry when I left your tea bag in your cup too long.  And I'm sorry for hitting the pot hole at 10th Ave E and 4th St EVERY time I drove you through that intersection.

Sometimes I wonder about the people at the cancer center that were so nice to us.  I wonder if they ever think about mom.  Is there like a staff memo that comes out to let them know if a patient doesn't make it?  Or do they just have to assume if they don't ever come back?

The lady at the check in desk has a steel trap mind.  She knew every single patient that she checked in.  Mom never had to tell her what her name was, except when she needed her to recite it out loud with her birthdate before she put her wristband on every day.  She was so nice and funny.  Ironically...  I can't remember her name right now.  Dumb, isn't it?

And I wonder how some of the other patients are doing that we'd see there often.  We didn't ever really talk to any of them, but it doesn't stop me from wondering about them.

Lordy, I don't know where I'm even going with this blog post.

I guess I should use this post as a thank you to everyone for being so kind to me through all of this.  I probably haven't been the very best friend, or fun to be around.  I'm still not.  I'm doing my best, and as I dig myself out of this hole I'm in, thank you for being patient with me and noticing when I need help digging, or when I just need a day of digging by myself.  Sometimes I just need to sit down and stop digging.  It's an evil battle that I'm fighting.  Some days I feel like I've lost.  Other days I feel like I have more energy to keep on fighting.

I have gained a new perspective on so many different things in my life through all of this.  I'm really trying not to write one big cliche here, I promise.  But I guess I don't know how else to feel right now.

Dad, I miss you very much.  I hope the strawberry shakes in heaven are even better than McDonald's.

Mom, I think about you every day.  I am hurting, but I will be ok.  It has been almost a month since you left us, and I still can't really believe that it's true and that it all really happened.  I'm glad you are finally not sick anymore.

Thank you both for what you've taught me.  I hope I am making you proud.  We are taking good care of Sami for you.  I know she misses you both very much too.  Thanksgiving sucked without you, and Christmas will suck worse.  We will do our best to keep on with your traditions, and start some of our own.  We ALL miss and love you!

I'm so very, very ready for 2013 to be over, and to start over with the new year!

XOXOX

NH