The first holiday...

The first holiday after losing a loved one sneaks up behind you...right behind the emotions that you put away so you can do your life, be a mom, be positive, be a partner, a daughter, a sister, a friend who needs you, a doctor...

I live away from my family so I thought this Thanksgiving would be like any other day.  I think about my mother every day so why would yesterday have been different?  The rest of my family experienced such a different holiday than usual--usually lunch is at my parent's house and everyone is there, more than 30 people come to eat.  This year was different, the family did not get together in one place, everyone had lunch in various places, with other family....my mother was in fact the glue.  

Yesterday, I thought about how I didn't know the last time I ate my mom's:

-Japanese egg rolls ("meats pies")
-Fried rice
-Mashed potatoes
-Fried pork chops
-Fried chicken
-Homemade french fries
-Pecan pie
-Pound cake

...would be the last time I ever ate them, the way she made them...she made them the best....I miss her

My mom and I (middle) in the mid 70's, Okinawa, Japan

Losing my mom...

Recently, I spent 1 month in Texas.  I went because my mother transitioned to hospice.  We learned that she had adenocarcinoma of the lung, stage 4, back in February (2017).  I left in a hurry on a Friday; I was not prepared to stay for so long--I took 2 pairs of panties--I thought I'd be back in 1 week given dying can take months.  

I had mixed feelings on the redeye plane ride there; my mother and I fought just one month prior, when I'd been visiting, and I had not felt sad since then; rather I was angry and frustrated with her. I started to wonder what my problem was--how could I not feel sad?  This all melted away when I finally laid eyes on her.  It reassured me that I wasn't some sort of deviant.  

She was so tiny, maybe 75 lbs by then.  She seemed at peace and spunky, her usual.  She still managed to smile and laugh through tears with eyes locked.  I miss her love of laughter (as well as her unconditional participation in gossip).

Watching someone die is fascinated and excruciating; this was my first experience with that.  I have felt guilty for decades because I do not live near my family and so I visit infrequently; taking care of someone while they're dying helps to absolve some of that guilt.

I don't know what's better--sudden loss, unexpectedly, without a chance to say goodbye or slow and drawn out with ample opportunity to say all you want.  Everyday she grew weaker and more fragile which was striking in such a strong woman, strong in every way--even at a previous 110 lbs (when I was growing up), she could beat me arm wrestling.  My mother was a stubborn and tough little Okinawan woman, a jewel really.

As days went by, she became less lucid, less responsive.  Just prior to a significant turning point, she punked my whole family by saying her goodbye/goodnight speech.  This was the most emotionally draining day for us because we really did believe she had decided it was time and she was just going to go to sleep and not wake up; she woke about 4 hours later and stayed with us almost 2 more weeks. Enough time for a 'golden glow' which consisted of a dance with my sweet nephew, an amazing man of only 21 years old.

We slept in shifts, my mother couldn't have had better care:  an RN (well, about 1 year to go in school), a physician (me), a medical assistant, a very brilliant and dedicated niece, and a loyal nephew.  It was amazing to have her entire family about her the whole time.  My dad hardly left her side.  I have a truly amazing family (enormous too).

She passed away on a beautiful Monday morning in May. 

I love my mom and I miss her so very much but when I talk of her I feel happy in my heart for she had a beautiful life with much joy and I am certain she felt loved. She and my dad have left this incredible legacy--family.

My sweet mom