Jump to content

DaughterOfAnAmazingMom

Contributor
  • Content Count

    33
  • Joined

  • Last visited

1 Follower

About DaughterOfAnAmazingMom

  • Rank
    Advanced Member

Previous Fields

  • Your relationship to the individual who died
    Daughter
  • Date of Death
    12/23/2015
  • Name/Location of Hospice if they were involved:
    Hospice Visions

Profile Information

  • Your gender
    Female
  • Location (city, state)
    Idaho

Recent Profile Visitors

The recent visitors block is disabled and is not being shown to other users.

  1. Glad to hear it. I hope Emmie helps your heart heal a little faster and brings more love into your life.
  2. Sorry for your loss and that you had to watch your buddy suffer. I don't think you should feel weird about loving her so much. I've been just as sad losing my cat as I was when my mom died. In some ways, I think I also loved old Stinky a little more than my boyfriend. (He always joked that the only reason he ever came to my apartment was to hang out with Stinky, too. She was the best!) The only advice I've heard about adopting so soon is just that you have to make sure you're not getting another cat hoping it'll be like the one you lost. I've heard people suggest that you look for a different breed and a kitty with a different personality so that you don't find yourself expecting your new furry friend to be like your old one. That can make things even more difficult. Hugs your way. ❤️
  3. I'm sorry for your loss. When I can separate myself from the situation for a minute, I know it's probably better that she just went super fast and didn't have her life prolonged by meds. At a certain point, their quality of life goes down in that situation and you have to watch them suffer before deciding the suffering is too much. That must be terrible to go through. I'm glad Stinky was "healthy" to the end. I kept thinking I should take her in a for an exam, but knowing how much she hated the car and the vet made me think I could just keep a sharp eye out. My boyfriend said he thought the same thing with his Marie, but she and Stinky went down the same way... suddenly after less than a day of symptoms. I just wish I'd been with her when she died. It kills me that I wasn't. I live alone, too, so I understand. Things get so quiet, don't they? You're used to furry chatter and some fluffy company, and the nothingness that replaces it is heavy! You should get another cat if you think you're ready. I've had a lot of cat people friends tell me they've done so fairly quickly after a cat dies. It's not replacing them, just opening their heart up for a bit of love to help the healing process. I think I'm at the stage where all I want is my Stinky, so it'll probably be some time before I decide to get another one. I don't know if it's harder because she'd been my buddy since junior high. She was almost like a furry sibling. (She was only two years younger than my sister.) I hope you do find a buddy that helps your heart. Just go and see which one seeks you out. Cats like to pick their people.
  4. Thank you for the reply, Marty. You're always so good with that. ❤️ Knowing things are normal is why I appreciate this forum. There's always someone to reply to let you know you aren't alone.
  5. This forum was such a boon to me when my mom died all too soon of breast cancer several years ago. It was unbelievably helpful to join in on the chats in the parent forum because it was the only place I could find other 20-somethings who understood. I find myself facing this awful grief again, and I hope someone can relate. After my mom passed away, I ended up taking in our old family cat. She was 14 when Mom died and was closing in on 18 here before she died. She had lost a bit of weight recently, but her behavior was the same so it didn't really register. She seemed perfectly healthy otherwise. I got back from work Wednesday, and she did her usual scolding greeting that I had left her for the day and she hadn't had her dinner yet. Then she followed me around while I made dinner and sat with me in the living room while I ate. Nothing out of place. Then around midnight, she started yowling in fear, and I went to check on her. She was clearly having issues seeing and kept walking into stuff. Then she started having trouble moving. My boyfriend's old family cat suddenly died a few years back after showing the same symptoms. I was super scared but tried to sleep because I couldn't do anything until morning. After a while, her scared yowls really got to me, so I held her for hours until we could get in to the vet. I thought I'd have to put her down, but they said she was experiencing thyroid and kidney issues, which was totally treatable. They'd just keep her for a few days and get her started on the medication I'd need to give her. Fast forward to Friday morning, they called to say she'd died that night. I'm a whole mess of emotions for so many reasons. First, I wish I'd taken her in for a checkup or something so we'd caught this sooner.I was her person. That was my job. Second, I am absolutely heartbroken that she died without any of her people with her. We owed her that. Third, I was in junior high when we got the old kitty. We had just moved and I was having a very hard time adjusting. She helped me through it. She was my furry buddy in high school and breaks from college. I moved back in for a bit after college, and I was there when my mom got her terminal diagnosis. Stinky's loving companionship helped my sister and me through that. (Sister is 12 years younger than me) After Mom died, my old kitty became my roommate and was absolutely indispensable in helping me get through things. She'd been my furry roomie for several years at this point. She was unbelievably sweet and talkative and loved to be held. She followed me everywhere and chatted while she did. She definitely loved me in whichever way a cat can, and I loved her to bits and pieces. She just made my heart warm and made me feel so needed and loved. I just got back from running, which I made myself keep doing after my mom passed, too, and I'm just sitting here so sad because Stinky always greeted me at the door when I got back and followed me to my room to "help" me finish my workout. That generally included trying to sit on my feet while I did lunges or laying next to me while I planked like she was planking, too. Now, there's just a silent apartment and no faithful furry companion to join me. I'm just devastated looking at her empty kitty beds and toys, that she was using in a completely normal way just three days ago. My work let me take personal days Thursday and Friday, and I've basically just been crying in bed. I am absolutely broken-hearted and crying just as much as I did when I lost my mom. I was not expecting Stinky's ultimate death to impact me like this. It feels the same as when Mom passed. I basically lost the two "people" who loved me the most, and my heart feels like it's had a huge chunk removed again. 😕 I don't know if anyone will reply, but I just had to get it out there. My little furry support system since 2001 has been suddenly ripped out of my life, and I'm just left with a sad, empty apartment that used to reverberate with loud, loving kitty meows.
  6. I don't feel the same at all. It's been about six months now. I'm 29, and I'd imagine the next 50ish years (if I get them) will always include a gaping hole in my heart. I feel like as a woman, if your mom is a solid person, that will probably be your best relationship. I look at so many of my friends, and I see that, whether the daughter is married/in a committed relationship or not. It was there with my mom and me. I was closer with her than I am with my boyfriend! There's unconditional love and support on both sides. Your mom understands you more than anyone ever will. She knew you when you were just a growing parasite in her belly. And as you become an adult, she can share things with you, like she couldn't when you were growing up. So, essentially, no one knows you or loves you better. And in many cases, you don't love anyone more than you love your mom. Throughout anything, she's there. She's also a counselor. She helps you through parts of your life that she's already gone through. Moms are especially important in that regard when you have kids. You can ask her for advice and she'll probably give it even if you don't ask haha. For me, knowing that I won't get to share that with my mom absolutely breaks my heart. I haven't had kids yet. I'm still a young adult. There are still so many stages of my life that she was supposed to be here for, that she was supposed to be around to guide me through. Now I've got to live most of my life without the person I could always count on, who I shared the deepest connection with, and who helped me navigate my life. How do you get over that? You can't. You spend the rest of your life with a hole torn in your heart. It's just the way it is. You just have to find ways to honor your mom and to somehow keep her memory alive, years after she's left. You shouldn't feel guilty about smiling or laughing. The best way to honor your mother is to be happy. That's what mothers want for their kids, isn't it? My mom kept admonishing us to laugh and smile when we thought of her after she passed. Among the relentless sobbing, we have. It's hard, but if she's watching, it warms her heart.
  7. kayc - I definitely believe in it! I feel like I had a little bit of it when I was younger, but I've become a skeptical Christian the older I've gotten. Maybe it faded away.
  8. I think genetics can play a role. My mom always used to say, "I'll die when I'm 80. All the women in my family do." That was pretty much the case! Grandma was 80, Grandma's mom was 80, Grandma's mom's mom was 80, Mom's dad's mom was just shy of 80, and her dad's sister was 80. The only exception I can think of is my grandma's paternal grandmother. She died in the 1920s at about 50 due to diabetes. (There weren't many treatments back then.) So I guess my mom is now the second exception, dying at 59. Both of my mom's sisters are in their early 60s and really solid healthwise. On the other hand, the men in Mom's family all basically dropped dead waaaay too young. Mom's brother was 48... esophageal cancer. Grandpa died from the same illness at the age of 52. Grandpa's dad died of a heart attack when he was in his late 30s. Grandpa's brother was killed by a drunk driver at the age of 21. Grandma's dad died in his late 50s. He apparently had health issues related to his time in the trenches during World War I. It was assumed that played a role. My grandma's brother did live to be about 80. He was the exception there. Then on my dad's side, his mom's mom lived well into her 90s and his half sisters (same mom) are both in their 80s and totally healthy. Grandma died in her 70s of a heart attack, but she was a heavy smoker and drinker. It definitely contributed. Grandpa also died in his 70s of a heart attack. Same lifestyle. He had five younger sisters and they all at least lived into their 80s. Two of them are still alive. One's 93! Man, this seriously sounds like a doctor-patient family history interview haha. I guess the point is that some families just have longer-lived people and some don't. There's got to be something at play there! I just find myself hoping that I take after the long-lived females of the family. I'm scared I'll die of breast cancer, too. I guess I'll probably be more vigilant than my mom was since there was never any reason for Mom to be concerned. It wasn't in her family. But my risk is double the ordinary risk since my mom had it. I have a one in four chance of getting it. :/ I also find myself hoping that my brothers don't take after my mom's side of the family. I guess there's no use in worrying, but I don't want all of them to die before they're 60, as well. I guess I sort of like them...
  9. My mom was very strong in her faith and had a bit of a sixth sense. She said she knew when the phone rang to tell my dad that his parents died that that was what it was going to be. Two different calls, ten months apart. There wasn't any warning they were about to die. It was a heart attack for both of them, and they were in their early 70s. Her father also died when she was 20. He used to visit her in her dreams just before something bad happened. He appeared before her mom died and before her brother died suddenly at the age of 48. The time before her brother she said he seemed REALLY sad. Like something absolutely awful was going to happen. This was in 2010. My mom's younger brother died soon after. The following year, her older sister's husband was diagnosed with stage four cancer. In 2012, Mom got the stage four breast cancer diagnosis. The following year, my aunt's husband died from his cancer. In 2014, Mom's cancer came screaming back after treatments went so well in 2013 that she was essentially cancer-free. Then she died in 2015. Grandpa had reason to be weighty then. My mom and my dad both said they frequently smelled their dads, too. Their main scents were cigarette smoke, and it was always in our home... where nobody smoked and there was no reason for it to smell that way. A few weeks before my mom died, she told me she was having a recurring dream where a little boy was leading her through a maze. She said after a while, she realized it was her little brother. She said, "Maybe when I get to the end, that's when I die." Maybe my uncle was helping to lead her to the other side. I wish I had the kind of messages Mom always used to get. I'd love to hear from her, but I'm not sure that I have. The only thing that seems like it could be is that I keep randomly hearing the song "Kokomo" by the Beach Boys. I was obsessed with that song when I was a little girl, and our home videos have so many clips of Mom telling one of us to sing it. She thought it was funny. A few times, it's shown up completely out of the blue. One time, I was thinking, "I wish I knew if you could see or hear me, Mom," and suddenly my sister started singing it in the other room. I'm not sure if it means anything, but I like to think it does.
  10. How often do you go the grave site of your loved one? Or maybe where their ashes were scattered? I want to go more than I do, but I completely and utterly lose it whenever I look at my mom's headstone. She was 59. She's not supposed to have one yet. It should have been another 20 or 30 years before she did. I've gotten to the point where I don't cry every day and my stomach doesn't feel like it's being twisted by a vice grip in multiple directions, but when I go there, it feels like the day she died all over again. Does anyone else have the most difficult time visiting the cemetery?
  11. Hi Andrew. Hugs to you. My mom died December 23rd. I'm 29. It seems like you've had much worse cards dealt to you because your relationship with your father was so tough and riddled with addiction issues. I was fortunate in that my mom was sober and it was impossible to have a strained relationship with her. I can't even imagine growing up with what you had to grow up with. It's got to make your father's death sooooo much worse to deal with. I did want to say that I get the friend thing, though. The only people who spoke to me about what happened after the first month or so or who don't seem to think I should just "move on already" are the other people I know who lost a parent at a young age. You and I are kind of screwed in that most of our peers don't have the slightest idea how we feel. Sub-40, most people still haven't gone through it. They don't understand that it essentially breaks your family and takes away your childhood, as well as completely tinging happy childhood memories with sadness. They don't understand what it feels like to know you have another 50 years ahead of you without your mom or your dad. Like you, it hurts me that my mom won't see some milestones, either. If I get married, she won't be there. If I have kids, they'll only know my mom from my stories. If I have some awesome career milestone, she won't be there to be proud of me. Even if the relationships are strained, parental relationships are some of the most important in our lives. What are generally more important? Spouses and kids. We don't have those yet, so we've lost our most important people. Our peers who haven't experienced this loss and won't for some time just flat out don't get it. I try to give them a pass because, really, there's no way of knowing. They'll understand when the time comes. You and I? We can be the friends who understand in the future, the few who offer comfort, just from our own experiences. We'll be there for them, even if we aren't getting that sort of support right now. The only people who keep up with me and my feelings are the others who went through the same thing, losing a parent in their 20s. I only know a handful and some I actually know from Twitter, as weird as that is, but if you can find any, they'll be helpful. They're the only ones who can grasp it. You can't look at your regular circle friends for understanding, as much as that stinks. On a personal note, this fact bugs me even more because my mom was 20 when her father died. She would have gotten it and been one of the understanding hearts, but I can't talk to her about it. Keep your head up, hold close to the good memories and know that you are not alone. There are lots of young people mourning the loss of their parents and feeling completely lost without them.
  12. I hope you ladies handle this day okay and are filled with nice memories of your moms. Hugs! Kayc, it is nice writing to our loved ones, isn't it? I like to think they can read it, too.
  13. You're a wonderful mom. The fact that your kids are so kind and caring shows the job you and your husband did as parents. It's also thoughtful of you to want to spare your daughter from having to become a caretaker. Even if you're able to do that, she sounds like she loves you a lot and will still find a way to be with you all the time. If my mom got to old age and was around, I'd do my best. I remember I always figured my dad would go first; we all did. My mom's mom moved into a garage apartment in my aunt's family's house when she was in her early 70s. (Grandpa died when they were in their early 50s.... esophageal cancer) She helped them buy the house, so it made sense. I always thought it would be nice to have mom live with me if she ended up being widowed. Now, maybe I'll have to try to help out my dad that way. I don't like the idea of him being all alone once my teenaged sister moves out.
  14. I've only posted in this forum a handful of times, and it was always about my dad dealing with my mom. I do read it all the time, though. I'll continue to just read and not post. Honestly, I think the reason why those of us who feel compelled to at least read or sometimes post here when we haven't lost a spouse is that we've lost the most important people in our lives. I lost my mom, who was my very best friend in the world and the person I love the most, and I lost her a good 20 years before I should have, if not more. The people who post in the parent section mostly fall into two categories: those of us who are really young and don't have our own families and people who were basically caretakers for their parents. I've read that my generation is closer with our parents than past generations because we tend to move back in after college (which I did for a few years) and we're postponing families if we have them at all. So it would make sense for a 20 something to consider their mom or dad the most important person in their life. That being said, if you're a caretaker or an older person who didn't end up becoming a parent, it would make sense that you'd be closer to your parents than usual for the same reasons as millennials: You've lived with them in adult life or you don't have your own family. With some people, their sibling is their favorite person because they've been playmates and confidants forever. You lose a part of your soul when a close sibling goes. This forum resonates with us because we've lost our person. When your loved one who holds the biggest piece of your heart goes, a HUGE part of you goes with them. Your life is completely changed. Lots of people aren't all that close with parents or siblings, so when one of them dies, it isn't an earth-shattering thing. If they mean the world to you, though, it's a lot different. I don't think I'm as sad about my mom dying as anyone would be about losing their spouse or their child, but it's the worst loss I could personally go through. The other non-spouse grievers are probably the same way, I'd imagine.
  15. This is a letter I wrote to my mom, getting all my jumbled emotions into words as I've struggled this week. Ads for "gifts for Mom" everywhere and emails about Mother's Day sales. I just want to climb under a rock. And I shouldn't do that! My mom was always telling me that one of my great great grandmothers was part of the effort to make it a holiday. It should be a day I appreciate. Anyway, this is what I wrote. It may resonate with some of you who have lost your mom and are reminded of it right now. Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I find it really tough being without you so soon. You got shortchanged by 20/30 years. It really isn't fair. We've lost the best part of our family. The woman with the biggest heart in the history of the world is gone. Billy Joel was obviously right. Only the good die young. You were too wonderful to make it to old age. It breaks my heart thinking that I have to get through the rest of my life without our inside jokes, our deep conversations, our silly nonsense conversations, and the unconditional mother/daughter love that we shared. You always poked fun at the fact that I wasn't a huggy person. Unless I'm with a significant other, that's true. Stay away from me! But I would kill for a mom hug right now. Just one more. Since I was a little girl, you pretty much always had the biggest chunk of my heart. You got me. I got you. When every thing else failed, you could always be counted on. You were a refuge. As I reached adulthood, you became my buddy. We could talk for hours and I wouldn't get bored or have to subtly check my watch. It was just fun to be with you. Ever since I was little, I loved picking out the perfect gift for you, making you something, or creating a silly little card. After you died and I had to look through your stuff, I realized you'd get kept all of them. My tears brimmed with love when I saw everything that you saved. I'm so happy that they meant as much to you as they meant to me while I made them. It broke my heart more than I can say that you died two days before Christmas and didn't get to open my present or the stocking stuffers I tried to pick out the day before you died, when we really thought you'd make it to Christmas. It breaks my heart even more knowing that I can no longer make anything for you, pick out a silly card, make a silly card, or buy you a funny present that would make you laugh. I can only leave flowers at your grave. You're not supposed to have a grave yet, Mom. I've cried every day since you left us. Every day. Quite often, it's been an all day thing. It even happens now, and it's been four and a half months. You told us not to cry and be sad when you died. Well, then, Mom, you shouldn't have been so amazing. As I cry those tears, though, I am filled with so much gratitude. You were so kind, so loving, so selfless, so strong, and you always did the right thing. It is impossible for me to have had a better woman to look up to. You were so pure-hearted and oozing with love. You put everyone first. You laughed through your four years of awful cancer treatments and side effects. You found the bright side of everything and tried to help everyone else do the same thing. You loved making complete strangers smile and laugh. So Mom, what's the bright side of all this? I had you for 29 years. You taught me what it is to be a woman, to be a loving person, to care for others, and to keep going with a smile and a laugh. I'll keep going with a smile and a laugh as I hold close to all of your cards, notes, homemade blankets and other lovely things you've made for me. I'll hold your memory close to my heart. I'll try my very best to live with love and kindness like you did. If anyone deserved heaven, it's you. I hope you're having a lovely Mother's Day with Grandma and your grandmothers. Just remember if you see us cry down here, it's because we love you so much. And that will never, ever change. You mean the world to us and always will. I love you, Mom. Thank you for giving your all to dad and the six of us.
×
×
  • Create New...