Oh how I wish I had all the answers to life's mysteries. I wish I could guarantee my Mom that there is much more for her beyond this place - beyond this life; but it is only because of faith I can make that assumption. After all, faith is the belief in something intangible - something that can't be proven.
Even with faith, I wish I could assure her that it is her faith that is the one that holds the truth; all the other faiths are riddled with faults and inaccuracies; but it is only because of the demographics of where she and I were born do we hold true our faith. If we were born in some other part of the world, we could very well hold true Buddhism or Islam beliefs.
What I can tell her is that I understand her fears. I can relate to is the possibility being ill enough to fear separation from your loved ones forever. Such a real, paralyzing fear it is, for sure. And what I can guarantee her is that we are all going to die; she is just one of the ones who knows by which means and that her time is shorter than she had hoped.
I've heard my mother say many times that she is sick, and tired, of being sick; that she doesn't know why God doesn't just take her. Admittedly, I've asked myself the same about her. I've felt for a long time that she's been living on borrowed time.
I've watched others lose loved ones unexpectedly - tragically - and have heard them proclaim that they wished they just had a little more time to tell them how they felt; that they wanted their dearly departed to know that they were loved. As a funeral director, yes, I've seen and heard that much too often.
My mother found out today that she has incurable pancreatic cancer that has likely spread. Not a good prognosis, by any stretch of the imagination. She asked me tonight how she should react. I told her that anything she was feeling was appropriate. We all have a right to our feelings. She's not sure the news has hit her yet, but I get a sense that it has. I also get a resounding gut feeling that she is somewhat relieved - fear set aside - that someone has finally listened to her, and even though it is all a little too late, she has some resolution...some affirmation.
I'll be helping her make the most of the time she has left. I have not been the ideal daughter. Admittedly, I have had little patience with the choices she's made, or with understanding why she had chosen a solitary and, what I felt, was an unfulfilled life. Complete and utter arrogance on my part. I've always wanted more for her. A healthier lifestyle, a rich and fulfilling circle of relationships, engaging hobbies, travel, even a love relationship. For reasons of her own, she's chosen none of these. Maybe or maybe not those choices have contributed to the situation she is in right now. Who am I to say? All I know know is that she is in the throws of the biggest and most difficult transition she will ever make. I'll be standing there, holding her hand until it's complete.
I won't be blogging much in the close foreseeable future. If I do, it will probably be about the transition I am going through, as well. I appreciate your
Until next time,