Denouement

My mom died a few days ago after a year knowing she had cancer and sort of fighting it, but at the same time fighting every person trying to help. Afraid but showing only anger, ugly ugly anger, she lived this past year teeth bared, snarling at everyone around her - most especially those closest to her - Alison, Stephanie and me.

It all started, as they say, with a fall she had and the 24 hours of agony she endured crawling to the phone to call for help. She had the hip fracture taken care of but in the hospital a mass on her neck was noticed and after unbelievable days of wrangling and coercing her to DO something about it, the doctors were able to take a biopsy and found cancer of the squamous cells ( the lining of the throat). I won't go into the year-long treatment, the uncertainty and the relentless march of the cancer - I think that story has been told and her cancer treatment was not unlike others.

I stopped taking my mom's calls last fall after she phone stalked me for weeks with ugly ugly messages dripping anger. Stories of the way she acted over the past year sound just like a two-year old, but with the manipulation, opinions, and command of nasty, foul language of an adult. Brutal.

Her cancer was treatable and "would not be the thing that kills her" the docor said last spring. But she resisted and delayed treatments and refused to stop drinking or smoking that caused her throat cancer. She was clear- in the extreme- that she would absolutely continue to do these things. Just as she was clear she would continue to drink and smoke during the years and years when people around her tried to point out the issue, tried with every tool society has to compel her to stop, get her to see.

People have very rightly wondered why, my mother having just died, I am not in deep grief. Well...the thing is, of course I have times of tears but they are brief - mostly I reflect on not wanting to die myself right now :) so as to enjoy my family and friends - my plan is live to an old wrinkly, need a walking-stick age! But back to the thing is...over the years, like 20 or so, I have already been through so many cycles of grief. There were so many times when her illness (depression, alcoholism, or combination or maybe something else) shone in bright light - when she seemed just CRAZY - her priorities so whacked out. Many of my middle of the night awakenings were spent thinking, worrying-and grieving really- for my mom. At some point, I had to tap out, move forward and so gradually that did happen and there was a weird, calm acceptance of her craziness. A way to deal, to provide some things for her without huge, emotional toll all the time.

The grief now brings the same feelings, thoughts and images but those brain paths are so well travelled that there is not such enormous overwhelming pain there - it is muted. Tears prick rather than pour down. I have had the same cycle of feeling so many times, I even recognize the images my mind brings forth, the feelings each evokes. I have in my mind a picture of her as a little girl face in her hands and the thought always of the potential of children and the hope and optimism- and how it all turned to hell. Those are heart crushing. The could-have-beens are other thoughts that bring on painful feelings of regret, frustration - just so much frustration. Like could have enjoyed her grandchildren kind of thoughts, would have enjoyed visiting Italy with us...those kid of - she missed it - thoughts. The thoughts you might have of someone who died prematurely - WEIRD huh? I have certain pictures in my mind too of her in her work clothes in the kitchen, or all of us Christmas mornings- just our regular life as kids with my mom that are those that kind of balance out the whole picture a little bit.

Nobody around her can figure out what happened, why she became the person she did - was it depression, innate personality, stifled upbringing in the 50's.. I cannot myself figure out though I have spent countless hours trying to tease an answer out. It really is just too complicated, too gray, unsubtle. She stopped being "vital" years ago - that is she stopped living, she lost vitality, she did not grab hold of anything, anyone. I guess maybe that was my grief over all those years, so that her actual passing was simply her denouement.