Happy Birthday Mom!

Well, once again it's the day my mom should be getting a year older. She should be 51 today, instead she's 48 always, and forever. This is her third birthday that has passed without her and yet today isn't any easier then the first or the second. In fact her first birthday that passed without her I was still in the blissful state of semi-denial so it didn't seem nearly as bad. I want so badly to pick up the phone, hear her voice, tease her about being another year older, hear her laughter but I can't. And as much as I've tried to shove them in the back of my head the feelings of loss, emptiness, and whatever else have had me on the edge of tears all day. I hate to cry, it makes me feel weak and yet the tears keep threatening to overwhelm me.

Almost Birthday time again

Ever since September hit I have been depressed (even more so) and missing my Mom. My birthday is a little over a week away. There's something about celebrating the day of my birth when the person who gave birth to me won't be here to celebrate it that really sets me on edge. It will be my third (wow) birthday without my Mom. I can't believe it's been 2 years and 7 months since she died.

I can't see that time is healing anything, if anything lately I find that I miss her even more. Maybe it's my birthday or maybe it's, I don't even know. All I know is I don't seem to be coping all that well. I miss her terribly, there's nothing I wouldn't do to have my Mommy back. Yeah, OK so those are my depressing rambles for the day.

Thoughts & Ramblings

For awhile everyone asks if you're OK,
But nobody prepares you for the pain that sets in
once the denial has faded away.
For awhile everyone asks if there's anything they can do
But by the time you can think of anything everyone else has moved on.
In the back of your mind, realistically, you know that Mothers are not immortal.
But you don’t expect them to die so young.
You never expect to be the one left behind to try to pick up the shattered pieces,
To do as everyone tells you and “move on” because there is no moving on.
Maybe it gets better, I still haven’t figured that one out yet.
Maybe, as everyone says, time heals; but when? How much time?
My mother taught me so much in life but now that she’s gone,
I realize there are so many things she never taught me.
She didn’t teach me how to deal with the pain of losing her,
She didn’t tell me about the huge hole that would form in my heart,
or the void that would fill my soul.
She never prepared me for all the things she might never be here for.
We always talked about “When” I graduated college
“When” I got married and had kids, and her grandkids.
But those things will never happen, oh well they’ll happen but she won’t be there.
She didn’t tell me that when I wanted to talk about her constantly
or to share my pain with someone, anyone, that understood; that no one would.
She never taught me how much it hurts when the rest of your family starts telling you that you should be “over it.”
How do you get over it? How do you even get to a place where you can be OK?
I never knew how much I would miss the little things, her hugs & kisses, her voice, her laughter, her smile.
And I certainly never grasped how much I would miss the bigger things, her wisdom, her advice, just being a shoulder to cry on when everything seemed to be falling apart, her unconditional love .
I still don’t know how I’m going to face the rest of my life without her in it.
And there are still so many days that I don’t even want to try.
But I know I have to go on, to continue to make her proud;
And I hope she’s looking down on me and smiling, watching over me.

My Mom's death

I have been thinking that I should do a post on how my mom died, etc. I've been mulling it over for a while trying to figure out how to word it, etc.....


"My mom was way too young to die she was only Forty eight (I'm only twenty five)I feel like she (and I) got cheated out of so much life. She will never see me get married, never see me finish nursing school, never see her grandchildren. AND even though I know life isn't fair I can't help but think how much it totally and utterly sucks. I wonder what the point of living is when the person who brought me into this world is gone. When the most amazing women, my biggest fan, my biggest defender, my best friend ever, is gone?

On November sixteenth two thousand and four my Mom went into the hospital to have gastric bypass surgery. Mom lived in Maine and I in Florida, I flew "home" to Maine to be with her "just in case" not really anticipating that it would, more as a precaution and to get to see her since I hadn't seen her in six months. We waited for hours, four hours longer then the surgery was scheduled to take. FINALLY we got the page that the surgery was over and the doctor would be to talk to us shortly. Instead of coming to talk to us directly like he was supposed to he called on the phone. There had been complications during the surgery, he had had to make a smaller then usual stomach pouch because there was a hole in the BACK of the gastric pouch (stomach) there had also been some leakage from the intestines but they believed they had it all patched up and she would be fine. We had to wait three more hours to see her (even though we were supposed to be able to see her in half an hour). The nurse explained they had had trouble keeping her oxygen stats where they should be, she was on ELEVEN liters of oxygen (norm is two to three liters after surgery), My Mom had never smoked a day in her life and yet she told me a few hours later that her oxygen stats were only eighty% a non smoker should be ninety nine to one hundred%) before the operation!! For the next four days ( she should have been home in four to seven days) my Mom could barely wake up let alone get up and walk. They had her soooo over-medicated that she could barely respond to me and was chewing on her oxygen tubing at points. They ended up dropping her twice, cracking her spleen (which we wouldn't know until later). I tried desperately to get the nurses to understand HOW over-medicated my Mom was. They wouldn't listen to me when I told them she was extremely med sensitive and barely took anything stronger then aspirin.

It has been four days and yet the whole time I have yet to see the doctor who preformed the surgery (mind you I am there pretty much twenty four seven other then getting my dad from work and bringing him into the hospital or going home to get four hours of sleep bring Dad to work and then go see mom. On the fifth day My Dad and I go in to visit first thing in the AM, we walk into Mom's room and she is not there, the bed is made and no sign of my Mom!! I walk to the nurses station and start to freak out on them, they explain my Mom had to be transfered to the ICU, I am irate that no one called but she says they just did it an hour ago and tried to call half and hour ago, probably so as it takes half an hour to get there. That afternoon my Mother's doctor FINALLY shows his face. My mother is on a CPAP (machine which is providing continuous air pressure for my mom to breath easier, only diff between that and a vent is that the tube is not down the throat so it can be taken off) nearly comatose, yet the doctor DARES to tell her that it is all HER fault she is in the ICU because she has not been up and walking like she was supposed to, he pretty much calls her fat and lazy and leaves the room after I give him hell that it is HIS fault he didn't check on her and realize she COULDN'T get up and walk because she is SOOOO over-medicated. I see the doctor again the next day and he says a few things then informs me "that my mother is not a small women" don't I know. I am spitting and he is lucky he is standing on the other side of the bed so I retort "really do you often do this surgery on barbies?" he mumbles a few more hurried excuses for their incompetence and leaves. By this point it is day six and I had only scheduled one week off, I am supposed to go home and back to college the next day but I can't leave my Mom in this condition. I stay another week, it is touch and go but by the time I leave my Mom actually was doing well enough to sit up and play a few games of cards with me and hold a normal conversation. The last day I got to spend with my mother ALIVE (even though she didn't pass away until= Feb ninth, two thousand five) was thanksgiving two thousand four, in a hospital room, hooked up to IV's and a CPAP at night. I left for the Airport Thanksgiving afternoon, saying goodbye to my Mother not realizing it was REALLY GOODBYE, like goodbye forever

She gets transferred back to the regular floor two days after I leave and then three days after that she is transferred back to the ICU. She has pneumonia now, they put in a chest tube and collapse her lung. She spends three weeks on a ventilator, they talk about putting in a tracheotomy (a surgical procedure performed on the neck to open a direct airway through an incision in the trachea (the windpipe). Luckily she improves and a few days before Christmas she is taken off the vent. In January she is finally transferred to the rehabilitation wing. While there she must regain her strength and also goes through another surgery, she had gotten a blister on her back as an allergic reaction from some iodine that hadn't gotten wiped off, the blister started out as the size of a large half dollar but requires THIRTY some stitches! She spends until February fifth there and then is finally released to go home. During her stay in rehab she has been on blood thinners because clots have been found in her legs. She is sent home on NO blood thinners, but still I breath a sigh of relief to have her home.

Four days later while babysitting my two and a half year old niece we do the daily ritual of "call, talk Aunt Mer" there is no answer and I leave my Mom a funny sarcastic message about how she is not allowed to be out of the house yet so why isn't she answering my call. Half an hour later I get the call that brings my world crumbling down around me. My little sister calls and tells me that mom had been having severe shortness of breath and the ambulance took her to the hospital. I start to ask if they brought her back to the hospital but Megan interrupts and says she didn't make it. I am too stunned to process this information and ask my sister what she said. She tells me Mom is gone, I must have asked her another dozen times before the reality of what she is telling me sinks in. BUT why now I want to scream! I talk briefly to my father to find out which family members he wants me to call. I call everyone except his mother and my mom's side of the family, who happened to be visiting when it happened.

I used to believe that everything happened for a reason but this, this I can't find a reason for. WHY did she die after getting better and coming HOME? WHY make her suffer those additional months only to take her from us ANYWAY!!!

And the GUILT, if only I had NEVER encouraged her to have this surgery. If only I had done MORE research before encouraging her to have it. I know you're going to say that she was an adult and made her own decisions. BUT she genuinely called to ask my opinion before she even began the long process of getting accepted. You see I was enrolled in nursing school and she was always telling me how proud she was of me for doing this and any time after that that she called me and had a medical question she would say "So nursie" even though I was not (and have not yet finished) my degree for nursing. She took my medical advice VERY seriously! AND later I would find out that she REALLY didn't have all the required tests done she was supposed to to make sure she was a good candidate. I should have been making sure that this was being done, they lead her to believe she had had all these tests done. They let her think she had been tested for sleep apnea; that I now KNOW is the number one complication in gastric bypass surgery and could have told the doctors from her symptoms that she had, which they hadn't.

I'm sorry that was so long I just had to get it off my chest. I just don't know how to continue on without her. I want her back so badly, my heart physically aches for her. I just feel so lost, so hopeless. Like there is never going to be an end to this sadness because I will never see her again (until I die that is). I'm just so tired of hurting this way, of the guilt and of the new bitterness that has crept into my soul."

So that's the whole long, awful story of how my Mom died.

Nursing School Part 2

Well, I just found out that nursing school isn't going to be happening for me in August like I originally thought. Due to miscommunication, the school being jerks. So looks like it will not be until November when I get in.

I am so disappointed by this turn of events and desperately wish my mom was here to help talk me through this. I miss her ear to listen, shoulder to cry on and just general telling me it would all be OK and work out in the end. It's times like this that the painful reality that I have to spend the rest of my life WITHOUT my Mom. I can never again call her for her moral support or share the things in my life with her. She won't be here for the many things yet to happen in my life. And those thoughts leave me feeling sad, bitter, angry, and a mix of other emotions. If I ever underestimated or forgot how cold, cruel and unfair life can be the past 2 years have left me painfully aware of that fact. I don't understand why my Mom's life had to be so short. I guess I'll never fully understand why this happened. I used to believe there was a reason for everything but this is something I may never find a reason for.

Nursing School

So I am completly psyched. I finally (about a month ago, sorry I'm slow) got the acceptance letter from the private nursing school I applied to. It's a relief to know that I am finally on track to getting my nursing degree.I start in August and then one year later I will finally have my LPN. One more year of the bridge program and I'll have my RN.

I've been working on this for the past five years so it's great to know soon it will all be over and I'll have the career i've been dreaming and talking about for what seems like forever=)

Of course despite my joy I am also painfully aware of the fact that I cannot call my Mom to give her the good news. Everyone else in my family of course was informed within the first 2 days of recieving the letter. If only I could share this with her, but I know wherever she is she's smiling down and proud of her "miss nursie"

OK well I know I am missing at least 3 posts but I hadn't saved or posted those on the MySpace blog so I guess they're lost in the eternal abyss of the internet. *shrugs* I will try to keep things a little more up to date from now on.

A little about The special woman I called Mommy

Dec 16, 2006

A little about the special woman I called Mommy

Just wanted to share a little something I had written about how special my Mom was to me.

My mother was the most incredible woman I have met thus far in my life, not to say she didn't have her bad spots and issues (i.e being co-dependent on my alcoholic father, being too over-controlling sometimes, struggling with an ED herself compulsive over-eating, etc) but all that aside she was still an amazing women. She was the kindest, most compassionate, willing to give anything for someone in need, the most beautiful soul I have meet. My Mom struggeled through raising myself and my little sister, often times with little support from my father as he was an alcoholic and would dissapear for days at a time and was often without work. Yet despite the fact that she was often the soul money earner I did not realize we were poor until I was high school aged, because no matter what I needed my mother always found a way to make it work. For example I was in a ton of sports in high school, this of course gets expensive when you have to have warm-up outfits, cleats, other gear, etc. But no matter what she always found a way to get those things for me AND ENCOURAGE me to pursue the things I loved, even join MORE clubs or sports if I wanted.

She was my number one cheerleader, my number one defender, and for the short five years I got to know her as an adult, my best friend! My mother was one of those people who LITTERALLY would have given someone the shirt off her back had they needed it. She always told me that no matter what I wanted to be I could. I have learning disabilities and ADD, this required my mother to be very proactive as far as my schooling was concerened but SHE never made me feel like I was stupid (even if I sometimes felt I was).

I moved to Florida when I was nineteen (she lived in Maine where I was born and raised), even though she did not WANT me to movwe that far away she SUPPORTED my decision to do so. And whenever I was having problems she was always a phone call away; to give me advice or just to be an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on. When I was twenty-one there was a huge family fued amoungst the half of us that lived in Florida and I moved home to live with my parents and little sister. She, of course welcomed me with open arms; and a year later when I decided that I just couldn't stay in Maine the rest of my life and wanted to move back to Florida she supported me, even though she made it clear she wanted me to stay because she loved having me around

When I moved back to Florida and decided to go to nursing school she sent me supplies and money for books, even though she could not afford to. She also told me how proud she was of me for doing this and any time after that that she called me and had a medical question she would say "So nursie" even though I was not (and have not yet finished) my degree for nursing.

OK so I told you that I would probably start rambling but those are just A FEW of the resons I loved (and still do) my mother so much, why she was so incredibly special, apart from the fact that she was my mother

Forever 48

October 15, 2006

Forever 48

Just sharing a poem I wrote for my Mom....

Forever 48

So many things left to do, so many places yet to see;
countless things I should have said.
You should have turned 50 today but
you will remain forever 48.

The day you left this earth still haunts me,
And images of you in that casket flicker behind my closed eyes.
Sometimes I dream you're still alive,
But wake to find it was all a cruel joke.

Too soon you left this earth,
To go to your heavenly home.
I hope your walking on streets of gold
Where you will forever continue to be, 48.

Sometimes I think I hear your gentle laughter on the breeze.
Sometimes the wind feels like your tender touch.
And I long so for your loving embrace,
And the unconditional love only a mother could show.

I know somewhere out there you're watching over me,
And spending time with loved ones gone before.
I hope it's all you dreamed of, until I see you again;
many more birthday's will pass but you will be forever 48.

Happy Birthday Mom

October 15, 2006

Mom,
Today would have been your 50th birthday, you should be here to celebrate it. Instead you will remain forver 48. I wish you were here for me to raz you about being "really over the hill."

RIP
Mary Catherine Lowe (Mom) October 15, 1956 - February 9, 2005

Late Night Ramblings

Sep 23, 2006

It's been a long day and I am completly and overwhelmingly exhausted. Maybe that is why on the drive to my house I burst into tears over a song that wasn't really all that sad. Or maybe it's because yesterday was my birthday and despite all resonable knowings of the fact that my Mother would not call me I still could not help but have this nagging feeling of waiting for her to call. Even after my Dad and lil sis called to wish me a happy birthday (Thanks Dad, for pointing out that I am getting old, lol) I still could not help but have the nagging albeit wishful thinking in the back of my brain that she would call. Even though last year was technically my first birthday without my Mom (she passed away Feb 9, 2005) it was still fresh enough that I could pretend that maybe it was all just a bad dream that I would awaken from. This year it is impossible to do that as I now realize just how unfairly real it all is! I have been dreading my birthday since the beginning of the month andnow that it's come and gone (well I can't even be technically over it because we're having my family "party" tommorrow/today prob. by the time I am done writting this) it was as bad as I anticipated. I somehow fail to see the point of celebrating a birthday when the person who gave birth to you is no longer here to help celebrate.

late night musings

Sep 18, 2006

It's 10:45 at night. I'm sitting at my kitchen table, reborning a doll for a group I belong to, they do a monthly drawing and I am donating this months 2nd prize baby. My mind really isn't on it so I leave it for another day. My birthday is Friday and as it approaches I dread it more and more. Not only because I am turning 25 and my early twenties have just became my mid twenties soon to be my late twenties and in five short years the big 30. But also because it simply seems that there is no point in celebrating a birthday when the woman who gave birth to me is not here to share it. As I sit here typing I look at my profile picture and am acutely aware that there is something terribly wrong with that picture. There shold be FOUR people in that picture and not three. The people who say that time will ease the pain have obviously never lost their mother. As time goes by (It's already been a year and 7 months) the pain doesn't get any better. If anything it only feels the hole in my heart is growing bigger, day by day. Each day is just another day that she's not here to share, that I can't pick up the phone and tell her I love her. Or call her and bitch about my crazy life. It's days like these, when the pain is so intense, so overwhelming that I just wish that life would be over so I could be with her again. I know I have so much more of my life to live but some days it just seems pointless without her here to share my good days and bad days with. As another birthday approaches I am reminded of all the things I still want to accomplish in life but I am also reminded that my Mom won't be here to see any of them. I feel so guilty that I encouraged her to have the surgery. She wanted to do this so she could be here to see her grandkids but where is she now?!?

My first blog, missing my mom, etc...

May 23, 2006

Well, I've never actually "blogged" before but my boyfriend thinks I'd be good at it since I talk to myself alot, lol. Hey at least I don't answer myself yet, besides "I don't suffer from insanity I enjoy every moment of it." I thought I would share part of a poem I started writting the other day with y'all now remember this isn't finished and it's still a rough draft...

Its been a year since youve been gone,
I wonder where the time goes.
How I wish I still had your wisdom to guide me.
Or to hear your gentle voice with which you used to tell me
Everything was going to be ok.
I miss your tender embrace and
that loving smile on your face.

This poem was written for, and dedicated to, my Mom (RIP). I have written a few poems for her over the past year and three months, trying to express the anguish I feel of not having her here. Somehow I thought this would be easier, after all the death I have been through in my life but it is a totally different almost inexplicable loss. How do you go on when the person who brought you into this world has left you at such an early age?

Every day I see mother's with their daughters and this indescribable jealousy, like nothing I have ever felt before wells up inside of me. Or worse yet I hear daughter's speaking ill of their mothers and the only comment I can muster is a biting, sour "Well, at least you have a mother." Is it normal to be this jealous? To be so bitter towards people whose mother's aren't dead? I mean it's not their fault but I still feel this overwhelming jealousy. I want so bad to have my Mom back, or maybe better yet to join her, to be together with her again.

Blogger Issues

OK well, my old blog seems to have been sucked into some kind of internet black hole. I will try my best to restore it and put in the posts I had up but I can't garuntee I will get them all or the accuracy of when I posted them.

Thanks for your patience,
Ari