where was everybody... we were not alone.

My father died alone. I had been with him for hours every day. I got into the bed and snuggled with him. I talked to him. He talked to me too, until he was incoherent. I stayed and stayed. There were others who poked their heads in, constantly. His caregivers were super attentive. My mother had quit coming several days before, she couldn't deal with it, she hid out in her room. So it was only me. I was trying to care for both of them. It was hard. I couldn't be there 24/7. Some people do that. Is that a sign that you love them more? I did what I could, and I was exhausted and finally went to mom's apartment to sleep. He died in the night. The nurses told me, people often do that. They don't want to have their loved ones see their passing, so they wait until they are alone. Happens often, they said.

Now, five years later, my mom just died. I stayed with her too. I knew she was dying. I read to her, I prayed with her, I sang to her, played music, prayed some more. I would take breaks and pack up things. We were planning on moving her to a different room, so things had to be packed up, most of it couldn't go with her. So I would hear her call out, and I would go to her side again. Over and over, for days. It kind of felt like a repeat of my dad's death, except my poor mom didn't have so many have attentive caregivers. Since they knew I was there, they steered clear. Everyone knew that she didn't have long. There were a couple nurses who looked in, but when they saw me, they went out. 

My mother died alone, at about 4 in the morning. I would have been ok with that, but a couple days before, someone had said to me, "well I hope you can be there for your mom when she dies, even though you weren't there for your dad when he died". The comment was not made to hurt me, but it did. It hit me in that spot where I always tell myself I'm not enough, I'm not doing enough, I failed them...

 I am not an only child, but I have been the only child for my parents for many years...  I am the one who stayed fairly close, I am the one who moved my mom near me so I could be there daily...  and I did that gladly for them, I was glad to be able to care for them, to be there for them. 

I don't think my dad OR my mom was alone at the moment of death... God was there, his angels were there to escort them. They weren't alone. I wasn't there for either one when they died, but that doesn't mean I wasn't THERE for them.  

But in the end, it was just me. Ok, I get that. They moved far away. We have never been that close. We've had our differences. I expected that I was going to be the one to care for our parents. 

 I forgive them for leaving everything for me. I  forgive them for just wanting to look the other way and pretend there was no problem. I was the only one there for them for many years. I was rarely angry about that, until ALL the decisions got dumped in my lap... do we stop the life saving procedures? Do we continue with tube feeding? Do we treat the pneumonia again? Should Mom have another surgery? 

There was one crisis that I insisted that my brother come for. My mom survived that one. But for the rest, it was just me. I was the one screaming in the hallways when the hospital refused to admit my father when he had two broken shoulders and pneumonia. I was the one who found them a place to be when they couldn't live on their own. I was the one that took over writing checks, paying bills, making sure things were ok, that they had what they needed.

To my brother's credit, he came to see mom not long before she died. He came to visit for a few days after she moved here. We had a nice visit. She was thrilled. I was ok that he wasn't here for her death, he couldn't do anything, and he was in the middle of cancer treatments. It wasn't his fault.

 I knew that I was going to be the only one taking care of Mom. I knew that I was the only one to cream her legs every day because of the eczema. I knew I would be the one to sit at her deathbed, holding her hand, being her connection to this world, and her encouragement to join the next one. I had forgiven them for not being there. I had no anger about that at all.  Until I heard that. And at first it wasn't anger, it was guilt. I didn't do enough. I failed. I was not enough. . "Well I hope you can be there for your mom when she dies, even though you weren't there for your dad when he died" And then it was anger.

If they were so concerned that either Mom or Dad would die alone, where were they? They knew there was no one to take turns with, I was the only one. Where were they? 

Breathe, forgive, love, be thankful...